Duality
Chapter Two:
Violet woke still tangled in the silk of her red dress, her face smeared with last night's makeup and the lingering taste of blood wine clinging to her pallet. Her tongue felt thick and useless in her mouth.
She stumbled to her bathroom, stripping the skin that stuck to her like snake skin. She had to grip the edge of her sink to keep from collapsing as the weight of last night assaulted her senses. The implication like thunder in her skull.
She emerged from her bathroom to find Rose leaning in her door, the red dress wringing between her hands. Nora , their aged maid hovered quietly behind. Rose threw the dress to the woman and closed the door behind her.
"Nice job, Violet." Rose threw herself across her sister's bed.
Violet couldn't look her sister in the eye. "Is she okay?"
"Oh, mother's locked in her room and she's not coming out."
Violet's shoulders sagged. "Did you call him?"
Rose laughed. "I'm not taking that bullet. Oh no, I'll leave it to you to talk to daddy dear, not that he'd care about the shrivelled old bat and her mood swings."
Violet shook with silent rage. She hated her sister's disregard for their mother, their mother who loved Rose best.
"Get some clothes on." Rose said her expression becoming cold. "I'm going out."
Rose was already walking out of the door and Violet strode after her. "When will you be back?"
Rose didn't respond but disappeared around a corner, the maid Nora a crouched figure hurrying behind her mistress.
Violet returned to her room, slamming her door shut. She tried to busy herself but there was nothing to do at Parkland, her purpose was to take care of her mother but she couldn't bring herself to face the task. Her mother's presence seemed to beat against the walls, her silent sobs ricocheted incessantly about her skull.
Violet grabbed her boots and jacket and headed out. She ignored the shuffle of the servants as she climbed into a car and peeled out of the estate without a glance behind her.
Hours later she stood at the doors of the Black Iris, --.
The squat little creature at the door looked her carefully up and down, nostrils flaring to assess whether she was of the Night. She stood patiently in the pungent dark alleyway waiting to pass through the grim little door to the subterranean fellowship taking place below.
"Apologies, my lady. Enjoy the show." The werewolf growled softly, making a small bow as she slipped inside.
Violet headed straight for the bar and ordered a row of shots.
She wanted to get drunk, she wanted to forget the trappings of her home. The phantom of her mother's wretched sobs scarred her psyche. She took the first bitter swig letting the mix of alcohol underlined with magic plummet to the bottom of her stomach.
Before long she was in the middle of a crowd of cold flesh and wild things, writhing, reaching for the spells weaved by the vampire on stage. As if she were raising offerings to the celestial gods, the small performer offered pain, anger, suffering and it was all channelled through a profound series of scream and whispers.
Violet's addled mind was transported, she was detaching herself from civility, memory, duty.
Hands slithered over her body. Strangers touched her intimately but she didn't care. She was beyond caring. She was at the mercy of the vampire's song, basking in the echoes of her ecstatic breath.
"Time to leave." Someone whispered, lips flicking by her earlobe.
She allowed herself to be lead out carried away from the circus of writhing flesh and bubblegum pink hair vampire chanting on stage.
The night air might help violet to clear her mind. She couldn't feel her feet connect with the ground and as soon as she was exposed to the tainted city air she doubled over and threw up. Pungent alcohol and bile washed the paving slabs and her companion rubbed small circles on her back.
"Whoa, girl, take it easy." He murmured in his lightly accented voice.
"What's your name?" She asked between gags.
"Emmanuel."
She stood, the ground was spinning and she was uncertain on her feet. "Emmanuel, I can't drive like this."
"I have a place we can go." He murmured.
She followed him blindly. She was beyond caring what would happen to her though she saw what he wanted and how many ways he wanted it. Emmanuel put an arm around her, he smelt wild and it was hot nestled beneath his damp armpit.
He led her though a maze of black streets and interconnected alleyways until they had to stop for her to gag.
They stopped behind a club, humans roamed around the entrance, she could hear the bass pumping through the very bricks, beating against her skull, stirring the contents in her stomach. When she straightened up, wiping vomit from her lip her nostrils flared and she picked up a familiar and sweet scent.
"No it's not that way." Emmanuel growled.
"Wait." She held up a hand to command his silence and followed her nose and that delicate scent.
Emmanuel was impatient, folding dark arms across his broad chest. "No way."
"Wait."
She walked around the club, wading through people, pushing them aside invoking their hatred, foul words that seemed to echo as she emerged into a slim, slimy alleyway. There was a persistent rustling, a kicking of garbage cans, grunts and moans of a couple having sex against the wall.
Violet blinked not once not twice but three times in rapid succession, not sure if the alcohol were not playing tricks on her. It was Rose pressed up against the bricks, a human bent over her, kissing her passionately.
Laughter erupted as Emmanuel rounded the corner.
The couple detached and dressed hastily before turning to face the intruders. Rose's eyes met Violet's and Rose's mouth fell open, made dumb by shock just as Violet grew deaf with it.
Violet's eyes went to the young man, desperately searching him up and down to find her first instinct was correct he was indeed human. Flushed, pink and unkempt.
"Violet." Rose whispered her name.
Violet grasped blindly for Emmanuel's arm and began to drag him away from the tableau. He was still laughing when they strode together down the street. "Hold on a minute." Emmanuel tried to slow her pace but Violet was beyond him now.
Her mind was racing into sobriety, she had known her sister slept around but with humans? The very thought made her head ache, her throat fill with bile.
"That chick looked a little like you." He mumbled.
"Emmanuel." She said sickly sweet and dangerous. "Shut up."
*
Still in her dirty clothes, her makeup smudged and hair hopelessly mussed, Violet crawled into bed early the next morning not quite remembering how she had made it home, crawled into the tomb of a mansion and beneath the sweaty sheets still tainted by the experience of yesterdays.
When she next opened her eyes the sun was bright in the sky, though it felt she had barely lay her head on the pillow.
Rose lay next to her, a shimmering vision in her silk night gown. "You won't tell." She whispered.
"I should." Violet's voice was raspy and unused.
"Please, Violet it was a mistake, a onetime thing. I'm under a lot of pressure." Her voice never raised above a whisper as she begged Violet in a way she had never done before.
"You're engaged."
"I know."
"To Calder Marwood-Thorn. What do you want me to do?"
"Keep it a secret."
Violet reached out and held her sister's cool, smooth hand, squeezed her fingers tight, saying yes without having to open her mind or her mouth.
"I have to go away for a while." Rose said. "To think things through."