Cloaked | Book 1

Chapter 15

    Time seemed to pass Vivian quickly. Her affair with Eliza seemed to bury itself in the back of the girl's mind, willing to be forgotten. Days bled away and with that, so did Vivian's paranoia. Her meetings with Damian and Lola became a ritual and brought some sunshine back into Vivian's cloudy days. They would talk about everything and anything, Damian only adding the occasional comment.

    And, finally, the day before the festival arrived. The halls of the manor were garbed in cheery bright colors. Yellows and pinks and whites laced the walls in cloth banners or lacy paper. Everyone carried a pep in their step. The maids hummed tunes as they carried the wash and even Damian buried his nose in his book with a tentative smirk.

    "What are you going to do when all of this is over?"

    Vivian sat in the grass, her back pressed against the rough bark of an oak tree. She watched Damian and Theo spar in the heat of the afternoon. In her hand sat a cold glass of tea, shrinking ice cubes floating lazily along. Theo and Damian had discarded their capes and Theo, his shirt. His skin was slick with sweat.

    Eliza had demanded last training sessions before the festival. Lola and Vivian had already fought the raven haired man. Lola had used her magic to manipulate Damian's sword, knocking it from his grasp and pointing her own at his throat. Vivian was far less graceful. Mere seconds into battle, she had gone to trade a final blow, only to be parried and knocked to the ground.

    Vivian turned to Lola, shading her eyes and squinting against the sun.
    "What do you mean?"
    Lola shrugged, brushing her blond hair from her head and tying it up in a pony tail.
    "I mean when all this is over. When we kill everybody who needs to be killed, there will be no use for the Omen. The people will dictate for themselves. We'll disband and...live our lives."
    Vivian hadn't thought about that at all. The fact that, though she had just joined, the group would soon disband. She bit the inside of her cheek, looking at her hands.

    Vivian had grown to love the Omen and had looked to it as a haven from the pain that her parents' death brought her. It was a roller coaster of emotions, and while Vivian had expected to have far more epic battles, she was thankful for the calm and peace.

    She was soon to get the revenge she had thirsted for since her parents' death. It seemed, once they killed Raphael and the President, her goal could be complete. But...she'd never thought this far.
    "I guess...I'd settle somewhere. Maybe here at the manor since the maids and things will probably leave. I'd help any way I can with the reconstruction of Blair and...I don't know, just live out the rest of my life."
    Lola smirked devilishly. "With a special someone?"
    Vivian gave her a playfully shove. "Maybe. What about you? Any special someone you wanna spend your life with?" Vivian asked back and Lola's smile falters.

    Her blue hues floated to Damian, who had raised his sword to strike Theo. They flickered with an unidentifiable emotion before she turned away and shrugged her shoulders.
    "Maybe." She said flatly.
    And that was the end of that. Vivian knew better than to push it. Lola was a viper when angered.

    A growl erupted from the field, and Vivian and Lola turned their heads to lay eyes upon the pair of men. Theo was upon the ground, his sword discarded somewhere. He was propped on his elbows, Damian's sword-tip pressed against his throat.
    "Surrender," Damian ordered, indenting the skin with the cool metal.
    Theo swallowed thickly, giving the smallest of nods. The sword was pulled away.

    Damian offered the brunette boy a hand and pulled him up.
    "You always beat me," Theo complained.
    Damian shrugged his shoulders yet said nothing. The two turned and began to make their way over. Theo laid a gentle kiss on Vivian's cheek and she smiled brightly.
    "What were you two girls talking about?" He asked, wiping sweat away from his brow.
    Lola smirked slyly, shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing."