❝Your secret is a painting?❞ I took a few cautious steps; the hairs on my arms stood on end.
❝Not just any painting.❞ Dorian approached the easel, shadows on his face as he touched the cloth protecting it. ❝It's a dark object, the manifestation of m...
I met up with Vanida at a local bar across the town. With the smoke and music on the air, and the atmosphere of mystery, the Blue Moon was the perfect place for shots and pool. Or just coming clean to your friends.
"You did what?" Van was furious, her frantic signalling . "You promised, Amelia! You said you'd stay away!"
"I know I did, Van, and I am so-so sorry! But he came to me--he needs my help."
"Says who?" Van set her beer on the counter with a vengeance. "If he tells you to jump off a bridge, I won't be there to catch you."
"Van, are you paying attention? I rode a unicorn!"
She snorted. "Apparently insanity is contagious."
"You're the one who said the impossible can't always be explained. What would you do in my shoes? Would you really be able to just walk away?"
"I wouldn't walk. I'd run." Van slipped from her stool at the bar. "So should you." She strutted off to meet her boyfriend on the dance floor; Danny gave me a look over her shoulder, as if he knew I was up to no good.
Sighing, I hailed the bartender and ordered a double shot of Patrón.
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The next day, as I snuck mojitos and wine coolers at my mother's backyard garden party, all I could think of was Dorian's evil portrait. The painting bore his likeness - his every sin and misdeed captured on the canvas for all time. Dorian would stay young and beautiful forever as the man in the portrait grew more grotesque and evil with Dorian's every mistake. Dark Dorian, the creature in the portrait, the man who had accosted me in my dream, would remain alone in the attic, begging to be set free, forever. That night, before I left his home, after I promised once more to keep Dorian's secret, he sent me home with a gift.
"It's a dream-catcher." He pressed the beaded, feathered hoop in my hand. "It will protect you. Hang it over your bed and he won't bother you again. Not if I can bloody help it." A delicate moment lingered between us. I could see in his eyes that Dorian wanted to say more. But the words never fell from his lips; I left feeling incomplete...
"Where's my damn dress?" Alessa found me hiding out near the hedges, as far from Jeff's donors as I could get. I'd only agreed to make an appearance at the fundraiser to make up for no-showing the Fairway. Shaking hands with simpering constituents was no walk in the garden, no matter how many roses my mother planted.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you flutter those fake lashes at me." Alessa stole the cocktail from my hand and took a heavy drink. "Just give it back."
I snatched my drink. "There were... dry-cleaning issues. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'll buy you a new one--"
"And it better be couture! From now on, keep your sticky fingers out of my closet!" Alessa marched off while I stayed behind, praying I wouldn't get more visits. Mom and Jeff shooting evil eyes from across the garden was more than enough company for me.
