“Of course. I would never do that,” I said, feeling glum. I just wanted my sister to be happy. She was such a kind, gentle-hearted person. And after everything she went through as a child, she deserved happiness more than anyone else I knew.
We fell into silence after that, both of us absorbed in the period drama Grace had put on. It turned out there were five seasons, and we’d almost finished the first by the time we decided to call it a night. I loaned Grace something to sleep in then turned off the lights. I wasn’t sure what possessed me, but without fully thinking through the instinct, I reached out to Peter.
Goodnight.
My thoughts kept wandering to him while watching the show. I spent a good amount of time wondering what he’d look like in period clothing, with Mr. Darcy-style sideburns. Silence followed, and I turned over, pulling the blanket over me and closing my eyes.
Then, just as I lost hope that he’d reply, a low voice entered my mind, Goodnight, Darya.
***
“Let’s go out tonight,” Grace said the following evening. It was the weekend, and we’d been cooped up indoors all day. I sensed my cousin was already starting to get cabin fever.
“I can’t. Dad said I have to stay in,” I replied. “You do realise you aren’t obligated to stay with me. I can keep myself company.”
“Correction, your dad said not to leave the house unescorted. Also, stop trying to get rid of me so you can sit around mind flirting with Peter Girard,” Grace shot back.
“What? That’s not—”
“Oh, don’t bother. I’ve caught you grinning to yourself several times today. I know you’ve been communicating with him.” I couldn’t argue because she was right. Peter and I had checked in with one another a few times today. I wouldn’t admit it to Grace, but speaking to another person with only the power of your mind was a bit addictive.
“Fine. So maybe I spoke to him once or twice, but I wasn’t mind-flirting.”
“Whatever you want to tell yourself,” Grace annoyingly chirped as she rifled through my wardrobe. “How do you have so many nice dresses that you never wear?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Aunt Delilah buys them for me,” I said. “Every birthday and Christmas, I get fancy designer clothing.”
“Well, Aunt Delilah has fantastic taste,” Grace replied, pulling out a short, bright pink dress with sheer sleeves. “Look at this one. It’s gorgeous. I mean, personally, I wouldn’t be caught dead in it, but with your colouring, it would look amazing.”
I shook my head. “I can’t wear that.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “It’s far too ‘look at me’.”
“And you don’t want people to look at you?”
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you even know me?”
Grace chuckled. “Okay, true, but whether you want people to look at you or not, you don’t really have a choice because they already do, even when you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.”
Self-consciousness nipped at me. “That’s not true.”
“Darya, you’re the biological daughter of two of the most obnoxiously attractive people I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re going to draw attention out in the world.”
I flopped down onto the bed. “You’re exaggerating.”
“You know I’m right, but I suppose it’s better that you prefer not to acknowledge your good looks. If I wanted to spend time with a vain bitch I’d go ahead and befriend Belinda Williams.”
I barked a laugh. “Ha! She is pretty, though.”
“Her personality negates any apparent attractiveness,” Grace countered.
I scratched my chin. “I don’t know why you’re still looking at outfits. My parents would murder me if I went out tonight.”
“What if we get Rebecca to come along?” Grace suggested like butter wouldn’t melt. “She can be our chaperone.”
“You heard my dad yesterday. Even as capable as Rebecca and I are, he doesn’t want us out on our own.”
“Well, your dad isn’t here now, is he? And he likely won’t be back for hours. We can go out for a short while and be home before he even knows we were gone.”
I sighed, mainly because I, too, was going a little stir crazy cooped up in this house. But I was also frustrated that I couldn’t be out there with my parents searching for the demon. It went against my nature to sit back and do nothing. And I didn’t entirely agree with my dad’s assessment that Rebecca and I weren’t capable enough of defending ourselves against a possible attack. We both had our skills. Dad just saw us as his precious little daughters when, in reality, we were dhampirs. Fighting was in our blood. And if this demon really was after me, perhaps I could lure them out of the shadows by leaving the house.
I wasn’t entirely sure if we could trap them, but if I could just get a look at their face, then I’d be able to identify them when they showed up in the future. There was nothing more frustrating than being marked by a supernatural creature and not having a single clue who they were or what they looked like.