Chapter 63
Music Recommendation: The Burnt Orange Hersey theme- Craig Armstrong
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When the siren had opened her mouth, there was a glimmer of cunningness in her snake-like eyes as if she knew Eve was not a human and was ready to tell her secret. For a moment, it had Eve’s heart stumble in her chest, fear forming in her own eyes, which disappeared on seeing the siren’s head being severed from her body.
“Was she your friend?” Vincent casually questioned her while taking another drag from the cigar and blowing the smoke from his mouth.
“We have exchanged a few words in the past. Pleasantries,” replied Eve, softly gulping at the sight of the dead body that the people of the Meadow now surrounded.
Eve watched the guards catch hold of the dead body, and the head of the guard caught hold of the siren’s head, where her eyes had turned opaquely white and her jagged teeth clearly visible.
“I am sorry for your loss,” and though Vincent offered his sympathy, Eve could tell he didn’t mean it. “Was it your first time seeing someone being severed?”
“Yes,” answered Eve. “People of the Meadow aren’t used to death like these, Mr. Moriarty.”
“Mm, I can tell. It is why there is so much difference,” he exhaled the smoke from his mouth, and because of the wind, the smoke drifted in Eve’s direction.
Eve asked him, “What do you mean?”
“The lower-class aren’t used to seeing death the way the higher-class see it. It might be because of the time that we hold,” Vincent pushed himself to stand straight and stepped down from the barrel drum he had been standing on until now.
He continued, “For the people with lower power, they find it unfair that life is being controlled by the people in authority. While some are sheep, some try to resist and go against it. I know you will argue that the siren might be a creature who was someone’s wife, a friend, but when they feel threatened, they will kill you. Just like what happened a minute ago.”
Vincent was right, thought Eve to herself. But at the same time, he was wrong. She wouldn’t argue with him about it, especially when she knew that the siren was going to reveal what she was. The siren had never noticed it before, but today seemed like a different day.
“Was that the reason you were at the river that day? To catch the siren?” Eve asked him.
When Eve placed her foot on the edge of the drum, ready to get down in the same way as Vincent had, the drum shook. She flailed her hands before jumping on the ground while placing one of her hands on the wall. She saw her employer standing in the same place as before, who had made no effort to move from his spot to help her.
“You seem to be getting better in not falling flat on your face or bottom,” remarked Vincent while looking at him with disbelief.
Did this man ever help anyone?
“Mr. Moriarty!”
A man called Vincent from a distance. Eve turned and noticed a lean man with a thin moustache quickly making his way to where she and Vincent stood.
“The siren is dead, Sire! What do I inform the council about it?” the man asked Vincent.
“I will speak to them. After all, they did give me the case. File the report on what happened,” ordered Vincent, and the man nodded. “Tell the head guard to search the remaining houses which hasn’t been cleared. I don’t need unfinished work here.”
“Yes, Sire! I will pass the message to search the rest of the houses searched right away. I think it would be better to have all the houses in the other towns be searched too. Just to make sure,” said the man, bowing his head at Vincent as he left the place.
What happened today was only the beginning, thought Eve to herself. They would need to hide the salts in a better place where no one would ever find out. But it was already hidden.
Eve looked in the direction where the crowd had gathered and slowly dispersed as the guards left. The siren’s blood was on the ground, mixed with the puddle of water near it.
“Did you see how that thing tore the man’s hand?”
“I thought I would never see a siren, but to see it look like that, how terrifying!”
“It would be best to get home before the sun dips down in the sky! Come quick, child!”
“Stay away from the waters,” said another person.
Eve heard the townsfolk speak to each other as they started to walk back to their homes.
As much as Eve was not particularly fond of sirens, she didn’t like how humans twisted their tongues. Most were sheep, whose emotions could easily be swayed, and they wouldn’t look back if they were to find who she was. It was hard to entirely blame the people who belonged to the higher society when people in the lower society were no less to them.
The world that they lived in was filled with greed and hunger, which wasn’t for food but other things.
Vincent took another drag from his cigar, watching the human who now stared at the place where the siren had been killed a few moments ago.
Eve asked, “Have you met any other sirens before this?”
“Yes,” replied Vincent, and Eve turned to look at him. “My work is to handle some of the cases that the people of the Council are unable to work on and needs my expertise.”
“I see,” murmured Eve, and then she asked with a curious gaze, “Is it true… of what they say about vampires?”
“That we like to suck blood from people and then kill them?” Vincent looked amused, noticing Eve pursed her lips, knowing that was not what she intended to ask.
“About the pureblooded vampires. That they hold indescribable power…” Eve’s voice trailed. If Vincent was working for the council, where they took his help, that only meant that he was someone of importance.
For a few seconds, they stared at each other in silence.
“If I told you, where would be the mystery? You should go and get some rest. We wouldn’t want you to be late for your class with Allie tomorrow.”
Eve bowed her head, “Goodnight, Mr. Moriarty.”
“Night,” hummed Vincent, his red eyes glowed that turned Eve wary, and she quickly walked back to her home.
That night, Eve didn’t sleep well. She dreamt of being captured and dragged by the official guards. She woke up with sweat covering her body. Having trouble getting back to sleep, she pushed the blanket aside and made her way down the stairs.
When she reached near the kitchen, she noticed light coming from there. It was Aunt Aubrey, who wore a shawl around her shoulders and poured tea for herself.
“Having trouble falling asleep?” Asked Eve, and Aunt Aubrey raised her gaze.
“Looks like I have company. Do you want some tea?”
Eve shook her head and said, “I will have some milk.” She made her way to pick up one of the bottles in which milk was stored. She poured it into a utensil, letting it heat under the fire. She said, “Feels like the town is back to its usual state, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed, everyone has gone to sleep except for the ones who are worried,” replied Aunt Aubrey in a soft voice. “Which is why I had to lower the brightness of the lamp.”
“Did it never worry you, Aunt Aubrey? Of being caught? For keeping me,” asked Eve, and she turned to look at the older woman, who took a seat on a chair resting in the kitchen.
“Worry,” hummed Lady Aubrey, holding the teacup. “I was very worried when we first got you here. But I remember Mr. Dawson, who once told me that an outcast had saved his life.”
Eve’s eyebrows knit together, whispering, “Sometimes I wonder, if it would be better if I live somewhere else, far away.”
It was only because her presence was not only a threat to herself but also to the lives of Lady Aubrey and Eugene. Sometimes kindness costed way more than being coldhearted.
Lady Aubrey understood how worried Eve must be after seeing what happened tonight. She said, “You don’t have to go anywhere. This is your home, Eve, and do not worry about us. We have survived so far, we will survive again.”
Eve didn’t know what she would do if something bad happened to either of them. They were the only people she knew and who were her family.
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