My skin was needy, demanding his touch and more. What was wrong with me? I hated Vinemont. Maybe it was because of what I’d done to myself. Maybe I felt like I deserved some sort of punishment for being so weak throughout my life? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I wanted him to rekindle the same fire in me, to make me burn for him, no matter the cost.
He held out his arm for me again. I took it and allowed him to escort me into the glowing hell of the Oakman chateau.
***
Masked greeters welcomed us and offered to take my cloak. Vinemont declined and swept me further inside the mansion. It was alight with conversation and alcohol. Servers in harlequin masks wove through the revelers, offering drinks and taking already empty glasses.
One whisked towards us, his tray laden with champagne.
“No, thank you,” I said.
Vinemont grabbed two glasses and handed me one. “Drink. It’ll help.”
I took a sip and then another. We walked further inside. Everything was gilded, golden, and sparkling. Dozens of chandeliers lined the high ceilings, and the walls were covered with intricate murals of romanticized scenes from the old South. It reflected a whitewashed history, the lighter paint hiding a bloody and violent past.
I waved my glass at the images of cotton fields and smiling slaves. “This is disgusting.”
“Thank you for your fascinating art critique. Now, drink,” Vinemont urged.
I swallowed another mouthful of the champagne, my stomach warming. And then the delicious liquid was gone. Vinemont handed the second glass to me.
“Finish it.”
I did as he instructed, suddenly thirsty and starving. My lunch at Renee’s hands seemed to have happened days ago.
“Good.” He passed the empty glasses to a particularly horrific server dressed in complete maudlin. His mask was skeletal even as the bells jingled merrily along his crown.
What sounded like a full orchestra began playing somewhere deeper in the house. Vinemont and I fell into the stream of masked strangers, some of them in gorgeous gowns that seemed to have come right off a runway. The men were all in staid black tie, the only things marking them as different were the varied masks that hid their faces. Some were pure peacocks, others in simple black. All seemed eager, almost excited. A buzz was in the crowd, elation at what came next, whatever that might be, creating an expectant energy.
A man plucked the edge of my cape and stared down at me.
I cringed back into Vinemont.
The stranger didn’t seem to notice, or care. “A Vinemont, I take it?”
The hum of the music grew, the whine of violins echoing down the wide marble hallway before the sound coalesced into beauty along with the other instruments.
“Yes.” Vinemont pulled me into his side, forcing the stranger to release my cloak.
The stranger smiled, his eyes lighting behind his midnight blue mask. “There are no female Vinemont heirs. So you must be an Acquisition.”
“I’m just—”
“She’s mine. Back the fuck off, Charles.” Vinemont tightened his grip at my waist, pressing the already tight dress into me even more.
The stranger laughed. “Nice to see you, too, Sinclair.” He stared down into my eyes again. “And I’m very much looking forward to seeing you, all of you, very shortly.”
The floor lurched beneath my feet. The only thing that kept me upright was Vinemont’s arm around my waist. He was a prison made of flesh and blood. My very own cage.
The stranger, Charles, stepped away and whispered something to the woman at his side. She frowned at me, giving me an up and down sweep with a critical gaze, her crimson mask turning her into a particularly vicious foe.
The orchestra was playing some elegant tune, one made for the opera or a symphony, not for this. It was so out of place that I wanted to laugh. I stifled my giggle as I glanced away from the crimson bitch.
I ignored the priceless canvases that graced the walls, and the ornate doors and moldings. Instead of letting the beauty of the house lull me, I stared into the masked faces, many of them now staring back at me as word spread that I was an Acquisition, whatever that really meant. Was I so rare? How many Acquisitions were there?
Though light glanced from every surface and sprang from the bright walls and polished floor, I was in a nightmare. The home was only gilded, gold covering the rotten core. I was surrounded by ghouls, all of them hungering for a piece of my flesh. The glitz and glamour did nothing to hide their true natures. No mask ever could.
The quick beat of my heart resounded in my ears, deafening even the smooth sound of the instruments. Vinemont didn’t stop, didn’t say a word, just kept moving forward. Toward what, I didn’t know. We passed through a wide set of high doors and into a ballroom. The floor was a light oak and shone like everything else in the vile mansion.