Sorry for the wait. Summer is turning out to be a lot more hectic that I expected

Thank you for the support!

Chapter 22: More Divulgence

Beaux was shaking as though the very earth beneath him was crumbling into pieces. His breaths halted altogether when Meliah vigorously pulled his blanched face between her hot hands. Her dark pupils seared his with their violent stares.

"Beaux," she whispered urgently as her palms grew moist with perspiration, "I asked. Is it true?"

"Of course not!" Beaux responded enthusiastically, grabbing Meliah's wrists and prying them from his cheeks. She resisted even when he smiled heartily to encourage his story. "You could never have done-"

A loud, incredulous snort from Vincent cut him off. Meliah twisted her body to face Vincent as he approached the foot of the bed. Beaux glared intensely at his father, who unashamedly, lowered himself to Meliah's eye level and handed her a polished box.

"I'm sure you didn't mean any harm when you tore them apart," Vincent murmured sardonically. He rolled his eyes offhandedly and stood up.

A small but painful whine slipped between Meliah's crimson lips as her eyes widened. "Beaux!" she cried. She fell heavily against the edge of the bed, but her face was desperately determined. "Tell me! It's not true! How could I-?"

"Vincent!" Beaux hissed. His fist flew at the back of Vincent's head, but a high whistling in the air proved that Beaux had missed.

"Beaux!" Cecilia screamed from the hallway. She rushed to Vincent's side and put an arm in front of her uncle to prevent him from retaliating.

"You know better than to assault your own father!" Vincent chastised as he stepped back into the door frame. Beaux tensed but let his hands fall at his sides. "That box-" Vincent pointed. "-was the only thing I found worth salvaging."

Meliah pulled her long hair back and slid her arms around the box in silent resignation. "What do you mean?" she asked dejectedly.

"I mean," Vincent began softly – his eyes growing less mischievous and more concerned, "That your house had been set on fire last night."

"What?!" Beaux and Meliah exclaimed simultaneously. The box slipped gracelessly from Meliah's embrace and unto the wooden floors with a low thump.

"You heard me," Vincent replied as he continued with zealous gesticulation. "I can see the headlines now, 'Lavoirsier Mansion Engulfed in Flames, Killing Entire Family and Staff!'"

"Entire family?" Beaux repeated meekly.

"But I'm alive!" Meliah cried indignantly.

"Not anymore," Vincent answered merrily, twirling a lock of flaxen hair between his fingers. "You were dead, as of yesterday."

"How could you?" Beaux spat. "You burned down her home?" Upon hearing the last part, Meliah covered her ears and gasped. Beaux quickly bent down to comfort her, but she backed away from his invitation.

"Tsk, I just took care of the loose ends. That was a favor. Shouldn't you be thanking me instead?" Vincent cut in lightly, "And a better question would be: how could you?"

"I hate your stupid games!" Beaux snapped.

"Ha! Games?" Vincent let out a serenade of laughter before retorting, "I thought the games had stopped a while ago! And no one should know that better than you. You, tell that girl right now! Tell her everything!"

"I told you to STOP!" Beaux bellowed. Within a second, Beaux was in front of Vincent – his hand firmly pressed over the latter's smiling lips. Although Beaux had expected surprise or even fear in his father's eyes, he was definitely not anticipating amusement. Vincent was looking directly past Beaux's furious countenance and at the pale girl slowly getting her unsteady feet.

Beaux turned around reluctantly and froze when he caught sight of the expression etched in Meliah's small face. There was rage. There was hopelessness. And there was terror.

"It's you! You're the one hiding something!" Meliah breathed. "You aren't telling me the truth!"

"Meliah, there isn't anything you need to know," Beaux blurted. He knew it was a mistake. For a moment, all she could do was look at her feet and shake with her broken sobs.

"Beaux," she started finally, "I killed them? I killed them. Didn't I? I'm possessed. Is that right? I remember An-Andan – I remember him– saying something like that. He told me I wasn't normal anymore…that he could feel it. I'm some sort of monster." Meliah spoke with such misery that Beaux felt his heart give an unpleasant lurch.

A monster?Beaux thought sadly. That's my line, love.

"It's my fault!" Beaux insisted, but Meliah was already shaking her head in dismissal. As she sat cautiously on the floor again, bringing her arms around her knees, Beaux knew what he had to do. He had to let Meliah know that he was not human, but as much as he loved her, he could not trust her completely. She would run…

"If you can't do it, Beaux," Cecilia interrupted suddenly – her voice low and soothing. "I can do it for you. I can tell her." She gently touched Beaux's forearm with a hesitant finger. "I think she deserves that much from us."

Beaux wanted to argue. He wanted to scream at his cousin, convince her that it was not necessary… But his mind was already beyond his selfish wants. Involuntarily, his head dipped in a curt nod.

Cecilia forced on a smile as she moved past Beaux to Meliah's side. With motherly affection, Cecilia pulled one of Meliah's cold hands unto her lap and began to speak swiftly. Beaux could not bring himself to watch the horror that would mar his beloved's mien. He turned away and let his palm slide off Vincent's mouth. Vincent used the edge of his sleeve to meticulously wipe the corners of his lips.

"That was not too hard now – was it?" Vincent sneered. He looked at his niece, who spoke without missing a beat. Unlike Beaux, Cecilia seemed immune to the painful moans and lamentations from Meliah.

Several minutes passed in relative silence save the hushed murmurs from Cecilia and the long interjections from Vincent, who had found it his mission to fill in the missing parts of the story. However, Vincent keenly avoided his role in the entire affair. Hehad slipped a simple sleeping draught in Meliah's drink the day he forced Beaux to take her blood.

When Cecilia finished, Meliah was no longer speaking or moving. Beaux tilted his head a fraction of an inch to the right so he could catch a fleeting glimpse of Meliah's hypnotized expression. She remained immobile for another five minutes before unexpectedly, her hands began to seek out consolation of their own accord as though her body was being controlled by a hidden puppeteer. Beaux took an instinctive step toward her but remained distant.

Cecilia was equally unnerved by Meliah's strange behavior. She stood up abruptly, accidentally knocking over the wooden box near her feet. The lid opened and the entire room was filled with the sweet, tinkling melody issuing from its depths.

"I'm so sorry," Cecilia murmured hurriedly as she bent down to retrieve the jewels and brooches that had tumbled out. Meliah was crumpled in a heap and unable to comprehend a word.

Beaux was fixated on the small book that was laying only two steps away from him. "Your Diary," Beaux said in wonder.

Meliah's eyes snapped into focus and she bolted to her feet, snatching the diary by its brown spine. "You read this?!" she asked furiously as she exhaled in short and rough breaths.

Beaux squeezed his eyes shut. How could he have been so careless? Why could he not keep his tongue still at these times? He tried to apologize but Meliah coldly rejected.

"GET OUT!" Meliah shouted at the top of her lungs. "I don't want to hear any of it! Just leave me alone!"

And Beaux, Vincent, and Cecilia left the room without argument.

Beaux was held hostage by several episodes of dejavu. This had happened so many times, and yet here he was again, listening to Meliah's ragged cries on the other side of a closed door.