7.3 Cat and Canary

If my experience with the Black-Eyed People had taught me anything, it was that everyone, even the worst of us, needs to feel like we belong. Dark Dorian included. And if that was true, maybe the only way to stop him was to appeal to his cold, dead heart. So I paid a visit to the Talisman, looking for guidance from Danny's grandmother.

Bent from age, her deep brown skin wizened from wrinkles, time had left her bright eyes and full smile unmarred. She walked in a slow, shuffling limp, greeting me with kindness as I approached the shop's front counter.

"I had a dream," she said, with a crooked smile, gnarled hands beckoning me forward. "You were Alice through the Looking Glass."

I smiled back. "Was I chasing a white rabbit?"

"He was chasing you." She chuckled. "Have you come for more answers?"

I nodded. "These last few weeks, I've learned... more than I expected--about myself, and the Village, and..." Even though we were alone, I lowered my voice. "Supernaturals. I used to think it was hard growing up normal. But now I think it's probably a lot harder being something other people would consider a monster."

"There is no such as thing as normal--there is only what we stand for and who we choose to be. My grandson, Daniel, learned this lesson the hard way. He once thought his heritage a curse, but truly it is a gift."

"Does it run in the family?"

"Yes. He must think very highly of you to divulge his secret."

"That definitely wasn't by choice. I put him in that position, and I am so sorry. I hope he knows that."

She bowed her head in understanding.

"Mrs. Begay, the reason I came here is because I need your help. I want to do something nice for someone who's special--like Danny. I want to show him that he doesn't have to be a monster, that the gift he sees as a curse can be used for good. But more than that, I want him to know that he belongs. That no matter where he goes, he'll always have a home."

Even the Black-Eyed People were searching for a home, for somewhere to belong. Maybe Dark Dorian was too.

"No worthier gift has ever been given. Is there anything in particular you are in search of?"

I smiled. "As a matter of fact..."

I had never worked with a canvas so well-suited to paint. The colors on my palette seemed brighter, more life-like, and Mrs. Begay assured me no earthly instrument would ever destroy the canvas, fire included.

"It would take something not from this world to see this canvas fall," she said, sliding the box across the counter. "And, for you, a little something special." She reached beneath the counter, producing a small black box made of velvet.

"A gift?"

"A last resort. Open it when you have nothing left to give but yourself..."

Though the present intrigued me, in an effort to keep my promise to Mrs. Begay, I hid the velvet box under my bed and thought nothing more of it.

I had a painting to finish.

"What the devil is it?" Dark Dorian studied the painting - a landscape which I had hoped he would find familiar, or at the very least a source of comfort.

I walked around the side of his desk, standing beside him as he perused the painting, lip curled in distaste.

"It's a manor. Look, there's even a little table there on the beach--breakfast by the sea."

"I understand what it is but what's the point of it?" He glared at me. "Where are the zombies? The ghouls? The dragons spitting flames?"

I exhaled, doing my best to remain patient. "It's not that kind of painting. It's meant to be... sentimental. I thought you'd like it."

His features softened with amusement. "Ah, yes, it's all becoming clear. He likes it. This has nothing to do with me at all."

"It has everything to do with you. Just take me inside and I'll explain."

Dorian stroked his stubbled chin, considering. "Very well. It's a date."

"It's a what?"

"I'm starved. Are we going or not?" Hands behind his head, Dark Dorian leaned back in his seat, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary.

I stepped outside to make a quick call before we left. My fingers shook as I dialed the number. It had been a while since I had last spoken to Dorian - the night of the kraken to be exact.

"Amelia?"

My greeting was met with silence. "Dorian, I just wanted to say--"

"I'm sorry. If I have pushed you or frightened you in any way--"

"No! Never!" I sighed, switching the phone to the other. "It's me. I panicked. Watching you die, over and over, that will never be normal for me. And knowing that your demon gets stronger with every sacrifice, I can't help but feel guilty--especially when I know you're doing it for me."

"Amelia--"

"I have to stop this. If I can save both of you, then that's what I'm going to do."

"It won't work. He's not decent, he's not moral, he's not anything but a monster!"

"He's you." More silence. And if he's you, then deep down, he is decent, he is moral. And if he can be saved then I have to try."

"Amelia--whatever you're thinking, whatever you're planning, please--don't do it. He'll hurt you--it's all he does, it's all he'll ever do!"

"I trust you, Dorian. I need you to trust me too."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Yes."

"Is it dangerous?"

I hesitated. "Maybe."

"Then you can't. It's not worth it, Amelia."

"What good is a life if you have nothing to die for?"

"Amelia, wait--"

Before he could stop me, before I could change my mind, I hung up the phone.

A castle-like manor sat on the stone cliffs behind us, overlooking the sea. The blustery waves were steel-blue, spray and sea-foam beating against the rocks as sea-gulls screeched in the sunless, pigeon-gray skies overhead. A housemaid showed us to a table on the bluffs, bearing a tray of mimosas with a cloth on her arm.

"Fried eggs, sausages, black pudding--bloody good show," said Dark Dorian, taking his seat and tucking a napkin in his collar.

"It's your favorite," I replied, looking at the good food spread before us with no appetite whatsoever.

"Quite beautiful, this pretty little picture you painted all for me." Eyes twinkling, he picked up his fork, sampling a bite from his plate. "Why are we here?"

I swallowed. "Because we all want a home. We all want somewhere to belong. And I just thought, maybe--"

"Let me stop you right there," he said coldly, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Thinking isn't your strong-suit. If it was, we wouldn't be sitting here, having this pitiful conversation."

"We're having this conversation because I want this to end! Aren't you tired, Dorian? How much longer can you go on?"

"Forever!" Plates and cutlery jumped as he banged his fist on the table. "For as long as it bloody well takes until I have everything I desire!"

"Don't you see? That's why we're here! I'm trying to give you what you want!"

His eyes narrowed. "Is this a trick? Are you trying to trap me here--shut me away forever? Did he put you up to this?"

"O-of course not! No one put me up to this!"

"Lies!"

"Believe what you want. I'm only trying to help."

"Help me? Help--me? I don't want a bloody home! I don't want to bloody belong! I want... I want..." He upended the table with a roar of frustration, food and plates crashing to the ground. "You mock my pain!"

"You exploit everyone else's!" I retorted, jumping to my feet, just as breathless and angry. "You're selfish, and arrogant, and cruel! You only care about yourself--you don't care how your misery affects others! But you know what?" I skirted the wreckage, coming face-to-face, where he couldn't hide from the truth. "Deep down, that cold, shriveled raisin of a heart still beats. Congratulations," I said, poking him in the chest. "You're human!"

"I'm nothing of the sort," he growled. The wind picked up; overhead, the skies were split by lightning and thunder. "And since you refuse to believe it, I suppose I'll have to prove myself. You!" Dark Dorian turned, rounding on the housemaid who had stood by, impassively, as we shouted at one another. "Watch her! I want her well cared for in my absence; you'll see to her every whim! Understood?"

The housemaid curtsied.

"What are you doing?" I grabbed Dark Dorian's arm, pulling him back to me. "Why would you tell her that?"

"You said it yourself--we all need somewhere to belong." His bitter grin was cold as the whipping winds. "Welcome home, Amelia."

Hello, everyone! Just three more chapters to go and the book is complete! If you're enjoying what you've read, please VOTE and add Immortal Sin to your reading list! More Dorian and Amelia ahead 🍳🥓🍽️