When I see another curtain being sharply pulled back at the far end of room, my gaze slowly pulls away from the pendent and they land on an older women entering.
My hand snatches back before I turn to face her. Black hair, streaked with grey cascades down her front. Her dress is red and gold velvet, making her look like a timeless beauty.
When she sees me, she pauses and her dark eyes settle on mine, studying me with a depth that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable.
It’s not just curiosity I see, it’s recognition. Like she already knows me, and she’s seen every dark corner of my soul. But I don’t recognize her. I would definitely know if I’d seen her before.
“Madame, I’d like to introduce you to my sister. Arabella.” Harley announces and I can feel the tension in the room shift.
Madame raises a single eyebrow, her face unreadable, expression perfectly controlled.
She moves without a sound, gliding around a massive oak desk, only her dress whispering against the floor. She never breaks eye contact, and I force myself to hold my ground, squaring my shoulders as she stops right in front of me.
Her gaze sweeps over my features. Then, just as she lifts a hand, her fingers hovering like she might touch my hair, she abruptly recoils. Her breath catches and her fingers curl into her palm. And for the first time since she entered the room, something flickers across her face.
Something like fear. I’ve seen it enough since the day I was born on thisrotting, fucked-up earth to know when I see it.
“Your sister?” Madame asks, and Noir stands beside her, facing me.
“Yeah, isn’t she beautiful?”
I cringe internally. I feel far from beautiful. So I don’t react to my sister’s compliment. My body is scarred, bruised, and malnourished, a map of every battle I’ve fought just to be standing here.
But my mind? That’s in a broken league of its own. Shattered. Warped. Twisted into something that barely resembles what it used to be. I’ve got serious work to do to rebuild, to regain, and to become before I carry out what I need to do.
Madame begins to circle me, her eyes dragging over every inch of me like she’s dissecting something dangerous, but I just stare forward.
“Look, Madame, I was thinking—” Noir starts, her voice determined, but Madame cuts her off without hesitation.
“No.”
The room stills, the weight of that single word pressing down like a held breath.
“But…” Noir tries again, but Madame doesn’t budge.
“She’s not staying here, Noir.”
“But why? Please, we can—”
“I said no!” Madame’s snaps, final and firm.
My gaze flicks to Noir and she’s staring at Madame, fire in her eyes, jaw clenched tight.
Madame moves around me again, but this time, I side-eye her, watching the way she moves, the tension in her posture.
“She’s got a very dark energy around her,” she states calmly.
I lift a brow, staying completely silent, but Noir scoffs, throwing her hands in the air.
“What the fuck! Haven’t we all?”
“Noir…” Hell's voice is a low warning from behind, reminding me he’s still there.
“No, Hell!” Noir bites, her frustration boiling over. “She’s my sister. My responsibility!”
“Maybe it’s for the best, pretty girl. I have plans for us. I can set her up somewhere safe.” Hell’s voice follows, deep and reassuring.
I glance at Noir, and I can see she’s clearly getting upset.