Fair
Disclaimer: I don't own Night World, L.J Smith does.
Chapter One
What did you do when everything you knew…changed?
Odette walked into her Aunt and Uncles house-an Aunt and Uncle she had never met before in her life-with a sense of trepidation. She kept her head high though and surveyed it all with a detached eye. The entrance hall was an open affair, full of light and shadows. Large archways led to a huge living room and kitchen/dining area and a wide staircase twisted to the upper levels of the house. The heels of her boots made sharp little clicking noises against the oak floors as she walked further in.
She noticed the shadows mostly. Nothing could hide that this was an old house, with old secrets. They hung in the air around her and whispered to her from corners. There was a story, a hundred stories, waiting to be told. There was history here. His story and Her story and the story of the veru house, which felt alive and sentient around her. She felt the front door close behind her and she felt the wood sigh and the stone of the foundations sing out as if to welcome her home. She felt the shadows gathered in corners, watching her. Odette hated old houses, this one felt like it owned her because of her blood, and it was glad she was home.
"Your room is on the second floor," her Uncle Stephen walked past her and started up the stairs and she followed, not even bothering to take in the rest of the house, "It was your mothers, it hasn't been changed," he added quietly.
"I'm sure she would have been touched at the thought," Odette replied dryly. Her mother had never spoken fondly of her home town of Blackwater, it had the highest population of Night People in any town that wasn't an enclave and it operated under strict rules and guidelines that made the rest of the Night World look like a playground.
"I doubt it." Stephen Albright's voice was equally dry.
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
The room itself was lovely. Aged ivory walls and pale wooden floors looked brilliant in the afternoon sunlight that streamed in through a window that dominated a whole corner of the room and housed a window seat piled high with soft green cushions. There was a dressing table in the other corner, a bookcase crammed with books and French doors draped in a gauzy green material that led out onto a small balcony. Faded pictures were pinned to a notice board, alongside an old calendar and hastily scribbled notes. Stephen hadn't been joking when he'd said it was unchanged. It didn't seem anything like her brisk, practical mother though.
"Before we leave you to get settled in," Stephen said stiffly, "You should know that the only Circle in Blackwater is Circle Twilight. I'm given to understand that you were planning to choose Circle Midnight, like your mother."
"I have chosen Circle Midnight," she said absently, placing the battered suitcase that had belonged to her mother on the solid four poster bed. Stephen set its twin by the door and his wife Rose came in behind him and gently set Odette's vanity case beside it.
"That's alright," Rose's voice was soft and sweet, "you can sit in with Circle Twilight."
"No. Thank you," her voice was just as stiff as Stephen's now, "But it wouldn't feel right." Witches in Blackwater didn't understand the distinctions between Circles, her mother had told her once. They thought Circle Midnight was irrevocably evil. Witches had been banned from acknowledging it in Blackwater for centuries.
They stood there in awkward silence for a while until Rose spoke up again. Odette had a feeling she always spoke sweetly and softly, "We'll sort something out. Why don't you rest for a bit, our son Aiden will be home from school soon and he's so eager to meet you."
The last thing she needed was an overly eager little cousin harassing her, but she smiled politely at Rose and Stephen until they left. Wherein she promptly flopped back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling for the next two hours. She had just had the worst week of her life and she wasn't quite sure how she was meant to react now.
On Monday, she had come home from school to find her mother missing. She hadn't thought much of it, her mother was a busy woman and was constantly in meetings with gallery's to sell and display her art. When she wasn't doing that she was mixing spells, or collecting spells, or collecting ingredients for spells. And Odette was nearly eighteen: she could look after herself. But then day had turned to night and she had worried and called around her mother's friends. They had immediately sent out searches.
On Tuesday, she had stayed at home and waited by the phone, worried now, because something was very wrong. She had tried to scry for her mother and had come up with nothing.
On Wednesday Tobias Marlow, one of her mother's oldest friends and an extremely old vampire had found her body in a wooded area on the outskirts of town. Her car had gone over a cliff and she had died on impact.
On Thursday she hadn't left her room. Hadn't spoken to anyone. Hadn't eaten anything. Tobias had arranged the funeral and answered the phone and left her alone.
On Friday she repeated Thursday.
When Saturday came Tobias had accompanied her to the funeral. It was a small affair. Her mother's family were estranged and no one knew anything about her father. She had stood pale and silent in the small graveyard and listened while Tobias thanked those who attended. Mostly vampires and witches from Circle Midnight.
She had thought it would get better then. It hadn't, of course, mostly she felt empty. Tobias had explained that she was in shock and, when Rose and Stephen had showed up at her door on Sunday and she had slammed it in their faces he had quietly explained that to them. On the porch: she had refused to invite them into the house. A complex series of wards ensured that only she and her mother were able to invite strangers in, and Odette didn't think her mother would have wanted her estranged brother and his wife in her home.
By Monday Tobias had regretfully informed her that her mother's family had every right to claim custody of her until she graduated. She had packed a bag, had his assurances that he would look after the house until she could return, and before she knew it she was travelling to Blackwater with Rose and Stephen in a series of flights and cars.
And now she was here. In the one place she knew her mother had never wanted her to be. The light was fading and casting a muted green glow through the French doors, and somewhere a radio was playing and a woman was singing along. She heard the front door slam and Rose's beautiful voice speaking to someone who sounded light and humorous. She hadn't moved. She didn't see a point to it really.
She didn't move when she heard footsteps in the hallway or a tentative knock on her door or the creak as it opened. She didn't move at the sound of the light and humorous voice from earlier saying her name. She knew how she must look. Still wearing her jacket and boots, her copper hair a wild tangle from not seeing a brush in a few days and her face, blank, and staring at the ceiling like a doll left to lie and gather dust. She knew that if she ignored the boy, presumably her cousin, saying her name then he would eventually go away and she would be spared the ordeal of dinner and introductions. Eventually he did and eventually she slept and dreamt of her mother, but much younger and happier than Odette had ever seen her.