Chapter 3
I peel the nail polish off my fingernails leaving small chips of deep purple to litter the white marble floors. The cold air hitting my now bare nails is semi calming. After prowling the lavish and empty hallways of the château, I now find my self sitting in a large, pale room awaiting the Merovingian to grace me with his presents.
There is no doubt that the small door behind me is heavily guarded from the outside, so that pretty much dashes any chance I would have of escape. I don't know what this room is all about. The walls are so eerily white it seems that they belong more in a cheesy horror movie than a posh château. My stomach knots itself tightly which really is not helping my mood.
My thoughts wonder. I bet Morpheus is in for a few sleepless nights, depending on how long I remain here. He should be satisfied though, I have given him just what he's needed. Morpheus always said we had to infiltrate the château if we were ever going to make any real progress, and surprise! Here I am, waiting in this cold, freaky little room waiting for the Merovingian to show up and do what he dose best.The door behind me slowly opens. There is a rush of warm air then only cold again. I continue to pick at my nails as my head begins to throb.I know exactly who it is before I see him. His overpowering cologne and the sound of expensive shoe heels on marble precede him. He strides into my line of vision, his thin arms folded around his thin body.
The Merovingian leans against the wall and wrinkles his face in a sneer. Ipry my atteintion from my nailsand fold my arms in imitation. His sneer widens. There is a long silent pause as heinspects me.The Mero is finely dressed, as always, in a fitted black suit. His black hair is slicked and plastered to his head perfectly, not a single thin little hair out of place.
I raise my eyebrows in annoyance, awaiting him to open his mouth and get it over with.
"Natalie my dear…" Spits the Mero, with his voice full of obvious fake concern.
"..Ver have you been."
I am now reminded of how much I hate his accent. It is sharp, mocking and further poisons his already spiteful words. I would take so much joy in ripping his sharp little tongue right out of his mouth.
I sigh, and calmly say "What do you want?"
A slight chuckle bubbles up from his throat but makes it no further than that.
"Well, that's a bit complicated and I really don't have the time to explain it all to you now, my dear, but I assure you all will be revealed"
God, I've forgotten just how cheesy he can be.
"But until that time, feel free to make yourself at home. I will have my boys escort you to your rooms"
The Merovingian pushes himself off the wall and steps toward me. Despite myself I tense. The Mero inches closer and with a clammy pale hand reaches and grabs a hold of my chin tightly. He turns my head slowly from side to side inspecting my gashed face.
"And clean yourself up, my dear, I want to introduce you to some clients of mine."
I wiggle my face from his grip and glare.
