Page 19 of Tangled at the Root
I spare a glance at where the front door should be. Like I’d expected, its still not there. The bars in the windows of the guest bedroom had been just as sealed as the rest.
The living room is empty, the curtains still shut. Genevieve must still be in bed.
At the archway leading into the kitchen, I freeze.
Genevieve is just closing the back door, her back to me. Her hands all the way up to her elbows are dripping with red. My reaction is almost a reflex, an automatic incantation that masks my presence in a heartbeat.
Genevieve stills, then spins around.
I’m holding my breath, my heart pounding erratically. The back door gets swallowed up by the wall the moment it clicks shut, melting into it until all I see is smooth, undisturbed concrete painted pastel yellow with a strip of decorated tiles.
She’s covered in blood. It’s soaking her chin,drippingfrom it, and has drenched the front of her tank top and shorts—stained her knees and soaked into her trainers.
I remember my dream, the creature’s sharpened teeth sinking brutally into my throat as it moaned with elation in the voice of my ex-best friend.
And I know, with conviction, that the eshé—mine or the house’s? I can’t be sure—had given me that dream. A warning? A premonition? Fuck, I don’t know. I can’t think.
She stares directly into my eyes, unseeing, yet aware somehow that I’m standing right there despite the eshé cloaking my presence. Something in that desolate gaze breaks my heart.
My throat squeezes. I almost take a step forward, but creep backward instead at the same moment she visibly shakes herself and moves. I barely manage to shift out of the way just as she breezes past me, a hair’s breadth from my nose.
I have secrets of my own, Rosemary.
She’d just gone outside. The house hadlether. Or had she demanded it? Can she control the house? If the place had been passed down to her, then she’s definitely connected to it and it’s connected to her; it would obey her wishes often without her even having to voice them. Had she been pretending to be as trapped as I was?
I think of what I’d hoped was a trick of the light after we’d danced—her standing in the semi-darkness, eyes completely black, fingers longer and darker, nails wickedly sharp. The creature chasing me in my dream; Genevieve’s voice gleefully taunting me torun.
I spin around, wanting to follow, needing to—fuck, I don’t know—
But when I make it to the bottom of the stairs on silent feet, lightheaded with bated breath, the floors start moving underneath me, making me stumble and swallow back a gasp.
I glare up at the ceiling but there’s obviously no response. The marble doesn’t stop moving, pulling me down the corridor and spinning me around until I’m standing in front of the single door I can’t help but feel curious about.
I glance back, toward the stairs, then at the closed door in front of me. The house clearly wants me to see whatever is behind this door.
I put Genevieve and her secrets to the back of my mind for now, and reach out and open it.
6: A TYPE OF MADNESS
Iwake to find myself quietly closing the back door, my hands drenched in something cold—sticky and wet. At first, I’m sure this is a dream. I blink, disoriented, the panic building slow like syrup as I stare in confusion at my bloodied hands, the door disappearing into the wall in front of me.
What—?
Red.Red. So much fucking red.
No.
I swallow. The sharp taste of blood and raw, animal meat snaps me fully out of my daze.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I go still for a moment before spinning sharply around, my chest heaving, eyes wild.
There’s no one there. Rosemary’s scent is fading, like shehadbeen standing right here but had literally disappeared. I stare through the empty archway into the living room, all my senses sharpening, listening for her.
There’s nothing. It’s like she’s not even in the house.
I don’t look at my hands. My lips and jaw feel cold, my clothes entirely drenched at the front. The grief is so intense I nearly collapse to my knees right there.
I practically run out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
