Forbidden Feast

Ch. 8: I'm a fly on the wall.

Jace raised his hands. "I'm a fly on the wall."

This woman was a fortress. She just nodded and knocked on the door, waiting for someone on the other side to open the door. Either Lydia hated noise of all kinds, or this housekeeper didn't know how to open doors. Mathew stepped inside first, immediately hit by the large fireplace roaring across the long room. The windows were sprawling, covered by white flowing fabric and very sparse knick-knacks and fuss.

This sitting room lived up to its name with tufted couches, leather armchairs, and window seating. The vintage pieces were all refurbished and re-coated to look shiny and new. Mathew's stomach rolled. It finally hit him. The uncanny-valley nature of this house that seemed to be from another time, but so polish it all looked like plastic. Mathew felt like he was walking through a dollhouse.

"Mathew!"

A woman stood, and her two companions followed suit.

Mathew immediately recognized Lydia from attending his parents' funeral. Vampires were half-alive. Half dead. Things kept alive by magic but kept humbled by time. They lived in slow motion. Now over three hundred years old, Lydia was just showing signs of crow's feet. Not one blonde hair was out of place in her shiny low bun. She rose in her full length red gown with a top that cascaded into a floor length cape. The silk moved like water, creating a floating effect whenever she moved.

"It's so good to see you," Lydia said in her grand way. She gingerly placed her hands on Mathew's arms, pressing small pecks to both of his cheeks. As she leaned back, she took him in, and Mathew smiled as pretty as a picture. "You're more grown up every time I see you and so handsome. Isn't he handsome?"

She turned, pulling Mathew into the room, and her companions nodded in agreement.

With wide blue eyes similar to her sister Hester's, blonde curls spilled down her shoulder. No need for as much jewelry. She wore an orange gown with a turtleneck, but she had laced the entire thing with a feathered hem. "Well," she said, much daintier than her older sister. "You know what they say when the Ventura comes up in conversation?"

"What do they say?" Mathew said, being as agreeable as one could be.

"That Dante was truly born to be a King," Lydia answered, but her sister, Hester added.

"High society would crumble without Bianca. Anthony and Nino are the most charming princes, but you Mathew—"

"Mathew is the crown jewel of the Ventura family," said the last companion. From memory, Christopher was Hester's twin brother. To match his twin, his brown suit accents were orange.

"Hester," Lydia said, sliding her arm around Mathew's as she led him to the sitting area. Mathew didn't look back, but he could physically feel Jace and him separating, as if someone had used a sharp pair of scissors to cut the string connecting them. The distance felt twice as long as it actually was. Lydia asked, "You attended Anthony and Knox's wedding, correct?"

"Oh, yes," Hester laid her manicured hand over her heart. "It was so beautiful. There's nothing luckier than having love bloom from an arranged marriage. You could tell how strongly your brother and Knox felt about each other. They disappeared immediately after the ceremony. I suppose they wanted to get the honeymoon started." Hester laughed, and the others followed. Mathew forced a few chuckles, knowing the truth was much darker.

"I'm surprised it was an arranged marriage," Lydia commented. "Dante never seemed like the type to set that up."

"He knew Knox would be a good match," Mathew spoke up for his brother.

"What about you, Mathew?" Hester asked Mathew, diverting their attention to the door. As Jace took a sidestep out of the way, a butler arrived with a golden tray of crystal wine glasses. The smell tickled Mathew's nose and his mouth filled with drool. Whatever blood was in those glasses smelled fresh.

Only Hester's voice pulled him out of his thirst. "Would you let Dante arrange something for you?"

"I would definitely trust his opinion..." Mathew accepted a glass and held it carefully, waiting for Lydia's cue. When she took her first sip, Hester and Christopher followed, then Mathew did too. The blood slid down his throat smoothly, and as soon as it hit Mathew's stomach, his body warmed. Not just the smell was stronger, but there was a punch to the taste as well.

"But enough jabber. You came here for a reason," Lydia said and stood on her feet. "Let's chat and walk. I've found the blood digests better during exercise."

Mathew would never argue with a Queen and follow the family. Mathew glanced behind his shoulder just as the housekeeper from before served Jace a small tray with a sandwich and a bowl of mixed fruit.

"What was your question, dear?" Lydia asked. They walked into a hallway that Mathew thought he manifested because it looked exactly like a wing in the museum.

"I'm interested in the histories of covens in this area," Mathew said. "Specifically, around Black Hawthorne."

"It's not a long history..." She took a sip. "Of course, we've held reign in this area for quite some time, but about twenty years ago, there was a small coven."

"Twenty years? You can be that specific?"

"Oh, yes. As the Queen of a coven, I'd be interested in a coven that pops up. It was an odd affair while it lasted. A coven made up of vampires and witches," she said, and those were the magic words. That was when Beatrix worked at the school too. He had a time frame. Mathew finally had something clear.

He took another swig, and this taste hit harder, and the warmth overflowed, spilling out into his muscles and his skin. He realized it was too late. Someone had taken this blood while they were drunk.

"Whatever they were attempting seemed to fail," Lydia added. "They either killed each other or dispersed. It happens with new covens. Sometimes the power to produce new vampires is random and not inherited, but they're leading don't last because they were not nurtured to be leaders."

She stepped through a door and Mathew followed Christopher inside.

"Miss," a butler appeared behind the group. On another tray was a cellphone that Hester picked up. She answered, "What is it?"

Hester glanced at her sister and then turned away from Mathew, but he could still hear her. "I thought her teething was under control..."

"We'll be right back," Lydia said, smiling tight and walking back out of the room. She carefully ushered her younger sister away from the doorframe and closed the door herself.

Silence followed. Glancing around, Mathew met Christopher's eyes and the distance Christopher was closing surprised him.

"This is perfect," Christopher said with a smile. Now, Mathew recognized the worst of people. "I was hoping we'd be alone."