Chapter 19
The dream was too long. It slithered and slipped and gurgled deeply into midnight pools in which I saw my own face peering back at me. It pounded with screams that crashed and echoed despairingly through caverns and then drowned in soft, billowing blackness; it surged with the soft babble of unknown voices, whispering in haunting tones in an unrecognizable language.
I emerged slowly, floating sluggishly upward from the great depths of my own mind. I was still pleasantly lost between the dream and the waking world when my door opened. I languidly turned my head toward the sound, forcing my heavy eyelids to open a slit.
I watched with mild fascination as the blurry figure moved to my bedside and knelt next to me. A gentle hand stroked my brow lightly and against I was falling slowly yet surely back into the sleep from whence I came.
Alex had been exploring the mansion for some time now, and still had not run into anyone. Had Kieran been lying? Were there really that many vampires here? She doubted that they'd all be sleeping, especially if there were really that large of a number. Alex knew that vampires sometimes kept odd hours, but what were the chances that every single one of them would be sleeping at that moment?
She stopped in random places and opened doors, finding some of them to lead to stairs mounting to the next floor above or descending to the floor below, and others to exquisitely decorated rooms. She reluctantly admitted that whoever had done the designing of this place, or what she had seen so far, was really quite talented and had wonderful taste. The rooms were all painted in soft colors, varying from the palest of pinks to light blues to feathery grays. The thick, plush carpets were all done in deeper, richer shades of the walls, with the acceptance of rooms that sported large area rugs, or brightly colored braided rugs. The hallways that she had ventured through all had wood paneling along the top and bottom, the top half of the wall a mellow off-white and the bottom half such a highly polished mahogany that it looked more like large sheets of glass than the wood that it was. The floor was covered in long oriental carpets of rich reds, chestnuts, blacks, emeralds, and creams. Strategically placed artistic lamps provided a soft, oddly comforting glow throughout the elegantly decorated hallways.
As she traveled from one empty room to the next, she marveled at the fact that she had seen no one, and could not sense anyone with her range.
In one room on the second floor (she determined this by leaning out of a window) she found what appeared to be the laundry room/linen closet. There were two long rows of washing machines and dryers running down the center, and along three walls were shelves piled high with bath towels, hand towels, bed sheets, blankets, and any other type of bedclothes and bath supplies she could think of. Along the fourth wall there were rows and rows of little cubbies about one foot square that were neatly labeled with nametags. Most of the niches had neatly folded clothes in them. Looking down at the oversized shirt and boxers that she wore as pajamas, she decided that she couldn't go about dressed as she was, and she was sure that no one would mind if she borrowed a few articles of clothing.
It took her a while, but she finally found an off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse and a tight, black lace-up vest to go over it and a black miniskirt that hung low on her hips. Together with a black belt that sported a large silver buckle, which she had found and fastened loosely about her hips so that it hung at an angle, and a pair of black, thigh-high stiletto boots, Alex felt more feminine than ever before. Examining her distorted image in a cracked and dusty mirror, she was pleased to realize that the outfit clung to her skin in a way that gave her the appearance of being more artfully curved than stocky.
Being the youngest child (her mother had had 2 miscarriages and one stillborn child after Alex) Alex's parents seemed to be clinging to her childhood for as long as possible. Never before had she been allowed to wear anything even remotely as revealing and ostentatious as this; her parents would rather kill her barehanded than let her out of her bedroom dressed as she was. What was the point? Her mother had asked. Human girls showed off their bodies to attract attention from boys, and likely their future mates. Why did Alex need to do that when she was basically already spoken for? She would ultimately have no choice in her marriage proposal; as a witch, she was only permitted to marry a male within 6 years of her age in a corresponding line of witches and hunters, and a man that her parents would choose for her.
Though she was permitted to put off her marriage for as long as she wished, each year the number of males to choose from would shrink. As it was unspoken law that each able-bodied female had to marry and produce at least one child, in order to uphold the remaining lines of witches and hunters, there were virtually no unmarried witches past the age of 25. Many girls chose to marry young, as early as 16 or 17, so that they still had plenty of childbearing years ahead of them.
As Alex bundled her pajamas in a ball, she wondered what she should do with them. She couldn't very well carry them around with her; that would look ridiculous. Remembering her newfound power, she closed her eyes and called up a picture of her bedroom and concentrated on it. After a moment, she opened her eyes to find that she was still standing in the exact same place. After trying a few more times, she threw her clothes in an empty washing machine muttered disgustedly, "What a crappy ability. Can't even use it unless I'm riled up, apparently."
She strolled out the door and strutted down the hallway in the direction that she had been going before she found the laundry room, swinging her hips with a new confidence.
She turned a corner into a hallway that was basically the same, but the carpet ended, and was replaced by polished wooden floorboards. She was lost in thought, only barely aware of the sharp click of her footsteps, when she turned another corner and walked straight into someone.
A/N: *gasp* who is it?! lol, he he he....
The dream was too long. It slithered and slipped and gurgled deeply into midnight pools in which I saw my own face peering back at me. It pounded with screams that crashed and echoed despairingly through caverns and then drowned in soft, billowing blackness; it surged with the soft babble of unknown voices, whispering in haunting tones in an unrecognizable language.
I emerged slowly, floating sluggishly upward from the great depths of my own mind. I was still pleasantly lost between the dream and the waking world when my door opened. I languidly turned my head toward the sound, forcing my heavy eyelids to open a slit.
I watched with mild fascination as the blurry figure moved to my bedside and knelt next to me. A gentle hand stroked my brow lightly and against I was falling slowly yet surely back into the sleep from whence I came.
Alex had been exploring the mansion for some time now, and still had not run into anyone. Had Kieran been lying? Were there really that many vampires here? She doubted that they'd all be sleeping, especially if there were really that large of a number. Alex knew that vampires sometimes kept odd hours, but what were the chances that every single one of them would be sleeping at that moment?
She stopped in random places and opened doors, finding some of them to lead to stairs mounting to the next floor above or descending to the floor below, and others to exquisitely decorated rooms. She reluctantly admitted that whoever had done the designing of this place, or what she had seen so far, was really quite talented and had wonderful taste. The rooms were all painted in soft colors, varying from the palest of pinks to light blues to feathery grays. The thick, plush carpets were all done in deeper, richer shades of the walls, with the acceptance of rooms that sported large area rugs, or brightly colored braided rugs. The hallways that she had ventured through all had wood paneling along the top and bottom, the top half of the wall a mellow off-white and the bottom half such a highly polished mahogany that it looked more like large sheets of glass than the wood that it was. The floor was covered in long oriental carpets of rich reds, chestnuts, blacks, emeralds, and creams. Strategically placed artistic lamps provided a soft, oddly comforting glow throughout the elegantly decorated hallways.
As she traveled from one empty room to the next, she marveled at the fact that she had seen no one, and could not sense anyone with her range.
In one room on the second floor (she determined this by leaning out of a window) she found what appeared to be the laundry room/linen closet. There were two long rows of washing machines and dryers running down the center, and along three walls were shelves piled high with bath towels, hand towels, bed sheets, blankets, and any other type of bedclothes and bath supplies she could think of. Along the fourth wall there were rows and rows of little cubbies about one foot square that were neatly labeled with nametags. Most of the niches had neatly folded clothes in them. Looking down at the oversized shirt and boxers that she wore as pajamas, she decided that she couldn't go about dressed as she was, and she was sure that no one would mind if she borrowed a few articles of clothing.
It took her a while, but she finally found an off-the-shoulder white peasant blouse and a tight, black lace-up vest to go over it and a black miniskirt that hung low on her hips. Together with a black belt that sported a large silver buckle, which she had found and fastened loosely about her hips so that it hung at an angle, and a pair of black, thigh-high stiletto boots, Alex felt more feminine than ever before. Examining her distorted image in a cracked and dusty mirror, she was pleased to realize that the outfit clung to her skin in a way that gave her the appearance of being more artfully curved than stocky.
Being the youngest child (her mother had had 2 miscarriages and one stillborn child after Alex) Alex's parents seemed to be clinging to her childhood for as long as possible. Never before had she been allowed to wear anything even remotely as revealing and ostentatious as this; her parents would rather kill her barehanded than let her out of her bedroom dressed as she was. What was the point? Her mother had asked. Human girls showed off their bodies to attract attention from boys, and likely their future mates. Why did Alex need to do that when she was basically already spoken for? She would ultimately have no choice in her marriage proposal; as a witch, she was only permitted to marry a male within 6 years of her age in a corresponding line of witches and hunters, and a man that her parents would choose for her.
Though she was permitted to put off her marriage for as long as she wished, each year the number of males to choose from would shrink. As it was unspoken law that each able-bodied female had to marry and produce at least one child, in order to uphold the remaining lines of witches and hunters, there were virtually no unmarried witches past the age of 25. Many girls chose to marry young, as early as 16 or 17, so that they still had plenty of childbearing years ahead of them.
As Alex bundled her pajamas in a ball, she wondered what she should do with them. She couldn't very well carry them around with her; that would look ridiculous. Remembering her newfound power, she closed her eyes and called up a picture of her bedroom and concentrated on it. After a moment, she opened her eyes to find that she was still standing in the exact same place. After trying a few more times, she threw her clothes in an empty washing machine muttered disgustedly, "What a crappy ability. Can't even use it unless I'm riled up, apparently."
She strolled out the door and strutted down the hallway in the direction that she had been going before she found the laundry room, swinging her hips with a new confidence.
She turned a corner into a hallway that was basically the same, but the carpet ended, and was replaced by polished wooden floorboards. She was lost in thought, only barely aware of the sharp click of her footsteps, when she turned another corner and walked straight into someone.
A/N: *gasp* who is it?! lol, he he he....