Author's Preface
The three of them didn’t speak until they were in the parking lot, far from any listening ears.
Beneath the night sky, at the back of the parking lot, and beside Zariah’s Eclipse—Michael yanked Zander to a stop, twisting him around and giving him a searing sort of glare.
“What the hell have you been doing out here?!” the elder sibling chided, smacking his brother on the arm.
“Making money and having fun,” Zander replied curtly, glimpsing over at Zariah, then back at Michael. “What have you been doing out here?”
Michael opened his mouth, then shook his head once and huffed out a breath. “Just—get in the car. We need to get home before Mom and Dad wake up and kill you.”
“Yeah… um… whose car is this?” Zander asked, jabbing a finger sideways at Zariah. “Hers?”
“Um, yeah, obviously.”
“And… I’m getting in this random girl’s car why?”
“Because she’s giving us a ride home.”
“Uh-huh. Do Mom and Dad know her?”
“No.”
“Did Will hire her?”
“No.”
“Okay…” Zander scratched his brow. “Then I’m a little bit lost on why we’re trusting this person.”
Zariah opened her mouth to explain—but Michael beat her to it with a raised voice.
“Because she’s done more to help me in one day than you’ve ever done all your life ,” Michael snapped, rounding on Zander. “And a detective told me today that he’s about to bust everybody in whatever freaking crime ring you’re involved with—so you need to go back home . Now .”
Zander instantly fell expressionless and intense, glancing in either direction, hoping no one was around to overhear.
“Keep your voice down,” he advised.
Michael reeled back with raised brows, scoffing out a laugh and tossing up his hands. “Oh, now he speaks reason. Now he’s thinking about consequences. Well, that is rich .”
“Seriously. Mike. Shut up ,” Zander growled through gritted teeth, giving him a severe look. “Not here.”
“Then get—in— the car ,” Michael ordered, snapping his fingers and pointing fixedly at the Eclipse.
Zander glared at him for a moment longer, then sighed and turned to the vehicle. Zariah unlocked it and laid the driver seat down, allowing Zander to climb into the back of her two-door car while Michael took the passenger seat.
After Zariah started the car, flipped the headlights on, and rolled out of the parking lot—she drove quietly through town, and neither of the brothers spoke for several minutes.
The drive was tense and silent, until the car reached the long, expansive hillside that stretched between the many trees and fields to the northwest of town, cruising down the dark, empty back road with twin beams leading the way.
Zander leaned forward in between the two front seats, his eyes shifting between Michael and Zariah.
“Love the tension. Makes me feel right at home,” he remarked with a laugh, propping his arms along the backs of the seats. “But I feel the need to ask… who are you? And… how do you know my brother?”
Zariah felt the question directed at her, though she kept her eyes on the road.
“She’s my friend,” Michael stated, turning back and shooting his brother a snide look. “And before you ask—yes—she knows about us.”
Zander gave him a double-take. “She kn… oh-ho-kay… okay, so it’s okay for you to be reckless as hell, but fuck me for trying to have my own goddamn life out here…”
“Yeah—see—there’s a difference, because she’s been helping me nonstop and not getting me into bar fights and drug rings,” Michael snarked.
“Um.” Zander tilted his head, his eyes narrowing caustically at his brother. “Pretty sure that fight was your fault, because the guy did mention you by name.”
“ My fault?! None of that would’ve happened if you weren’t there doing all that in the first place!”
“Nobody told you to come get involved, you dumb shit.”
“Oh yeah—sure—because letting you do whatever you want has always gone over well in the past.”
“It’s my life , you arrogant fuck—and I’m not getting in drug rings or whatever the hell you just said. Only reason I’m doing any of that is because it’s kind of hard to get a regular job when I don’t have an ID or anything.”
“Oh—come on—that is the lamest excuse I’ve heard from you since you claimed Will ate VV’s comic books on the full moon. Nobody fell for that stupid the dog ate my homework excuse—and nobody’s gonna buy that ID crap, either. We have all the documentation we need at home to get an ID made. Mom and Dad told us that decades ago. You just didn’t want to come home to get them. You idolize all that crime life crap—and you just wanted to run off and disappear into that. You’re not fooling anyone. Grow up.”
Zander opened his mouth to retort and argue further, but then he drew a blank, plopping back against his seat and releasing an angry cloud of breath.
Michael sighed irritably and turned to the passenger window.
Zariah didn’t say a word, and she simply continued driving until she eventually arrived at the gateway of Voltaire Manor.
As the Eclipse eased to a stop before the rickety gate, the headlights washing over its bars and casting a shine on them, she put the car in park, popped the door open, and stepped out, lying the driver’s seat down and allowing Zander to climb out as well, Michael emerging from the passenger side.
Zander pocketed his hands and strolled off toward the gate instantly, giving Zariah no thanks or goodbyes. Michael, however, wandered over to her and paused there, glimpsing between her and the gateway to their property, which was now slowly creaking open as Zander flicked his wrist at it.
“Ah… well, thank you,” Michael told her graciously. “Thank you for the ride, and for… everything else…”
“No problem,” Zariah replied.
“Um…” Michael hesitated, scratching along his cheek. “Well, you can come inside if y…”
“No she can’t!” Zander hollered back at him without stopping, venturing through the open gateway and marching off toward the manor.
Michael stared after him for a second and sighed with disdain before turning back to Zariah.
“I’m sorry about him,” he mumbled, his tone carrying a hint of agitation. “He’s just…”
“Oh… don’t worry about it. That’s how families are,” Zariah remarked, glancing over at where Zander was slowly disappearing from view. “And… now I’m kinda understanding your stress even more. He seems like the kind of person who’s just really hard to babysit.”
Michael breathed out a laugh. “Yeah…”
They both stopped talking for a second, feeling as if they should say something more, but neither of them knew what.
“Well… maybe I shouldn’t invite you in yet,” Michael realized, frowning at the ground, his brow hardening. “I might need to get my family used to the idea of a new person before I… actually try to bring one inside.”
Zariah nodded, glimpsing down and fidgeting with her sleeve.
“Okay… well, you’ve got your new phone, and I put my number in there,” she told him. “So… you can call or text me if you ever want to. And… I totally still wanna hold you to that movie night thing tomorrow.”
Michael smirked, sparing the manor another glance and swallowing an even heavier sigh. He wasn’t sure how his family would react to a new person—and he also suspected that his mother and father might persist in their efforts to keep him inside, never allowed to leave. After all he’d seen today, and after the new friend he’d just made, the very last thing he wanted to do was remain forbidden to leave the property—but, if his parents attempted to continue enforcing that rule, then perhaps he could simply sneak away tomorrow night.
“I’ll be there,” Michael told her, giving her a nod and starting his trek toward the manor. “Thank you…!”
Zariah smiled and waved him off, watching as he turned and jogged to catch up with his brother, only turning around one more time to make a whipping motion at the main gate—causing it to slowly creak itself shut.
Her brows raised, and she glanced up, watching the gates close on their own.
Then, her gaze ventured downward again, landing on the brothers Voltaire in the distance, who’d both just reached their front door.
Zariah’s eyes narrowed at them, staring fixedly across their property as the gates snapped closed in front of her. It almost looked as if Zander had opened the gateway with some kind of telekinesis—and it seemed like Michael had just closed it the very same way.
“Whoa,” she breathed to herself, slowly turning and sinking back down in her car. “There’s a lot to that family…”
She pulled the door shut, backed up in a slow circle, and drove away from Voltaire Manor.
And just as she did—Michael and Zander pushed their front doors open, strolling inside and closing the doors behind them.
The massive, elegant entry room looked the same as it always had, and, despite the fun and the rush of being outside all day, Michael let out a massive breath of relief as he gazed around the room. Everything in his home was so familiar, so very safe; it was his entire world until now, and he couldn’t help but feel at ease now that he was finally back home, and now that his brother was safe and sound here with him. Now, all members of the family Voltaire were right here where they should be—right where they were always safe.
Still, as Zander began to saunter away, Michael remained by the front doors, turning back around and gazing out their stain-glass windows with a look of thoughtful curiosity.
Today had been his first time in the outside world, the first time for so many things; he’d seen so many new sights, new parts of the world, new faces, new trees, and buildings, and environments—and he’d felt countless new things he never had before. He felt adventurous when he headed into town, captivated by how it looked and operated, terrified when he became too sick from the sunlight and fell unconscious, immensely happy grateful when he’d opened his eyes to see Zariah, who’d just helped him on a whim. He’d felt euphoric with joy when he rode downhill in that car for the first time, and he’d felt a kind of longing he’d never known when he ate a rare, bloody steak. He felt a frightful, urgent anger when he’d discovered Zander in that dangerous situation—and he felt as if he couldn’t wait to see his new friend again the moment he’d returned back here.
It wasn’t as if he never felt anything here at home—but, usually, the only things he felt here were either curiosity or aggravation. He’d spent countless hours in his room during his brief spans of being awake, reading through books, listening to music, and watching old movies, pondering endlessly on what the outside world must have really been like, wanting more than anything to see it for himself, and losing himself to the childlike wonder of the idea. Aside from that curiosity—he also frequently felt agitated at how many thing he had to do here, namely during the times when his siblings simply refused to. Michael was the one to always check in on Mom and Dad during their first few weeks of awake time. Michael was the one to tend to William when he fell ill six years ago. Michael was always the person ensuring that everyone was taken care of, that all the parts of the manor to reveal moonlight were covered up for William’s sake, and that everything remained clean, orderly, and safe.
It wasn’t like he hated being responsible—he even enjoyed it at times—but he couldn’t help but feel aggravated that Zander and Verity didn’t feel the need to bother. Neither of them ever seemed to care about those important sorts of things that Michael was always sure to prioritize. In fact—if Michael himself didn’t always look after his two younger siblings, anytime they were sick, or fighting, or playing a bit too rough—then he doubted if they would have fared very well up to this point in life, because he couldn’t imagine a scenario wherein either of them would look after each other the way he always did both of them.
But the point was—today, he’d felt a magnificent rush of all different sensations, feelings that went far beyond simple curiosity about the outside world or feeling irritated by the things he had to deal with here. His heart was still pounding, and his stomach still felt fluttery, Zariah’s face lingering on his mind. He felt more alive today than he ever had.
Michael flashed a smirk at the doors, turning away and knowing for certain that he’d make his way back out there sooner or later.
But just when he tried to walk forward—a voice halted him mid-step, also making Zander skid to a stop near the bottom of the rounded stairs.
“Michael and Zander Voltaire,” a sharp, stern English voice called out to them from above.
Michael and Zander both glanced up the rounded stairway—seeing their mother standing on the center of them, her hand placed atop the wooden railing, and her small, slender body covered by a sleek black gown with a dark, flowery collar, the ends of her sleeves long, and her gait slow and smooth. She had short red hair of a dark rosey color, parted along the side of her head, and left to swoop in a smooth, silky wave on either side, more one side than the other.
“Aha!” another female voice chimed in, calling out from the side. “They were both outside!”
Michael and Zander looked to the right—seeing their younger sister storming out of the doorway of the lounge, pointing an accusing finger at the two of them.
Verity Voltaire had a petite frame like her mother’s, but slightly curvier, and sporting a much different outfit; she wore a tight black t-shirt with sparkly Gothic designs on the front, dark crimson skinny-jeans with tiny skulls decorated up and down the sides of the pant legs, and she had black fingerless gloves on each hand, having just finished painting her nails black and sparkly maroon. She had the same deep rosy red color hair as her mother, and hers was just as short, but combed to the side in a spiky, stylish way. Her eyes were narrowed beneath the thick dark lashes, her makeup black and fading silver, and she thundered directly over to Michael and Zander, repeatedly jabbing her finger at them.
“That’s not fair, Mom!” Verity complained, gazing up the stairway at her mother. “I told you Zander was going outside—and look! Michael is too! So I’m the only one who doesn’t get to go outside?!”
“ Nobody gets to go outside,” Rose Voltaire said flatly and pointedly, glaring directly down at her daughter. “The rules have not changed. And… if you keep speaking to me with the cadence of a rabid dog… they very likely never will .”
Verity clenched her hands into fists by her sides, huffing out a breath and shooting her mother an angry, pouting look. Zander was glimpsing between the two and rolling his eyes—but Michael’s attention was only on his mother.
“Mom,” Michael said, feeling a touch of worry and stepping closer to the stairs. “Are you… feeling okay?”
Rose’s gaze landed on him, her face rather expressionless.
“Well… of course I am, dear,” she replied sweetly. “Why do you ask…?”
Michael narrowed his eyes at her, grasping the edge of the railing and making a shrug. “I don’t know, you just… you’re usually kind of out of it when you first wake up.”
“Well… I didn’t just wake up, dear,” Rose told him as-a-matter-of-factly. “I only got up shortly after you and Will finished your conversation… right before you left the house… before sunrise this morning.”
Michael stared up at her, his mouth slowly drifting agape, and he resisted the urge to wince when he realized precisely what she meant. Everything that he and William had talked about beside the coffins this morning—wherein William encouraged him to go outside, despite his parents’ rules—it seemed that his mother had heard the entire conversation. She wasn’t really still asleep inside her coffin this morning; she was simply eavesdropping without anyone else being any the wiser. It was a typical cunning trick, a trademark behavior of their mother, something that everyone in the house would always typically expect of Rose Voltaire.
“Okay… Mom… listen,” Michael uttered, taking a step onto the stairs. “Will didn’t mean anything by all that, he just… he just wanted me to go and find Zander.”
“Oh… I know very well what he wanted,” Rose said softly, nodding knowingly at him. “I heard it loud and clear.”
Her penetrating glare shot over to Zander.
“William saw your little field trip as an excuse to give you free reign,” Rose stated, pointing down at Zander, then moving her finger over to Michael. “And you both ought to know better. No—all three of you ought to.”
“Well… he should,” Michael griped, swatting over at Zander, which warranted a scrunched-up look of befuddlement from him. “But I was just focused on finding him.”
Rose’s thin eyebrows slowly raised, giving her eldest son a long, skeptical stare.
“Really?” she said in a soft, breathless tone. “Because… I believe what I heard come from your mouth was ‘They cannot control me.’ Did you say that to William, Michael?”
Michael gaped up at his mother, feeling a surge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He sighed and looked away, running a hand down his face.
“And did William agree with you?” Rose added.
Michael’s eyes hesitantly wandered back up to hers, wearing a conflicted expression and saying nothing.
Zander snapped his fingers in the air, then pointed over at the doorway to his left. “Ah—can I go? Because I can feel a hangover coming on, sooo—”
“Stay—right— there ,” Rose demanded, shooting a glare over at Zander before her attention returned to her oldest. “Michael. Did you say that to William, and did he agree with you?”
Michael swallowed, still not wanting to answer. He couldn’t think of a way to reply without getting William into trouble.
There was a tense pause in the air between Rose and all of her children, everyone’s eyes fixated onto Michael now.
“Quite so, Madame.”
William’s voice entered the scene, and Michael turned his head, seeing the butler emerging from the darkened doorway to the left, stepping forward with his hands neatly cupped in front of his dark brown suit.
“However… if you recall… Master Michael also expressed some concern for you ,” William continued, slowing to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, near where Michael stood. “He obviously did not want you or Master Orville to be forced to go out on a manhunt so shortly after awakening from the deep sleep, given the health concerns he has for the both of you… and I, obviously, simply couldn’t have gone out so early in the morning… what, with the full moon still being out and about, and all. So, naturally, if someone were to go out and find Master Zander… then Master Michael was, at that time, the only viable option.”
Everybody fell silent again, Rose glaring intensely into William’s face, practically reading every inch of it. Then, moments later, she let out a sigh and looked to her kids.
“Listen to me,” Rose said, raising a hand, her serious stare shifting between Michael, Zander, and Verity. “Listen.”
Michael returned his mother’s gaze and nodded. Zander rolled his eyes again before jamming his hands in his pockets and shooting his eyebrows up at his mother, giving her a condescending look of expectance. Verity tossed her head back, groaning into the air before she focused on her mother again, folding her arms and staring at her impatiently.
Rose glimpsed between the three once more, then spoke on.
“I know… this is unusual,” she told them all. “And I know… that you all want to go outside. I know that you all want lives, and friends, and jobs, and families, and babies, and whatever else it is that you may want… but there is a reason that we are in here. The world… is… dangerous . It is dangerous for everybody out there… but especially for people like us.”
The three remained silent.
Verity sighed, shaking her head and looking down. She glanced over at her brothers, staring at them for a moment and frowning snidely, seeming as if she didn’t really believe what her mother had said. After all—if Zander and Michael had no problem exploring the town, then how dangerous could it really be?
Zander bit his lip and shook his head once at the floor. He wasn’t worried about danger at all; with all his experiences on the outside, he always found himself to be the strongest and most dangerous person in every room. Besides, nobody in the world even knew what he was, and they wouldn’t believe it even if they found out. He simply couldn’t think there was any danger; most of the world outside was fairly normal, and even his dealings and endeavors with the local crime syndicate didn’t feel greatly threatening to him.
Michael let out a deep cloud of breath, his gaze venturing down to the stairs as he lost himself to his thoughts. The only real danger he’d faced today was staying out in the sun for a bit too long. Everything else simply felt like an adventure. The people in town were mostly kind, the society seemed pretty unthreatening and ordinary, and he even made a new friend who knew perfectly well what he was—a friend who knew it all, yet who felt no hatred or fear towards him whatsoever. Zariah was perfectly accepting of him, despite what he was. He couldn’t think any part of it was dangerous.
“Such bullshit,” Verity grumbled under her breath, turning away. “ So sorry I wanna go out and have a life…”
“Yeah—and I’m sorry, but it’s not dangerous,” Zander told his mother, laughing at her and shaking his head in amusement. “Everybody out there is way tamer than us.”
“No. Everybody you’ve met is tamer than us,” Rose corrected him firmly. “Do you know what America and the UK each have in common? They are both suffering from a massive population spike of the Demon Class, dear.”
The three of her children fell momentarily silent again, this time trading glimpses with one another. All of them knew very well that the Demon Class was the only class to be truly feared and avoided—because they, unlike all of the others, were inherently evil in nature.
“And you know… fully well… what the Demon Class does,” Rose said ominously, making a slow, steady stride down the stairs. “They possess… they influence… they weed their way inside you… and then… they… have got you.”
“And they never let go,” another voice joined the conversation—one that all of them knew very well.
Everyone turned and stared up at the top of the rounded stairs—seeing Orville Voltaire there, just on the platform on the middle section of the stairwell, wearing a dark black overcoat, holding his sleek black cane with the winged handle on the top, and with his usual silver cross hanging from around his neck, as well as a few other sparkly chains. His fingers had many large rings, and his hair was long and black, hanging a bit flatter than his eldest son’s, though just wavy enough to tent around his visage, his face slightly aged, and his round crimson sunglasses covering his eyes from view, each sunglass lens with a tiny bat wing protruding from the side of it, the left lens harboring a wing on its left side, and the right lens with one on the right.
Everybody fell deathly silent as the oldest man in the family entered the room, the father, and the head of the household; Orville looked over everyone else from above for a second, then took a step down the stairs, reaching out and pointing between his three children.
“That… is one thing… that everyone else in this world has in common,” Orville told them all, his English voice grating with a bit of a rasp. “Everyone… in every other class… and people who aren’t in a class… can all get possessed by demons.”
Rose turned around and stared up at her husband, and Michael, Zander, and Verity gazed up at him with grave looks strewn across their faces.
“And it can happen… in a number of plain, stupid, ordinary old ways,” Orville continued, thumping down toward his wife. “Alcohol… drugs… sex… revenge… fighting… drugs.”
“You already said drugs, dear,” Rose whispered.
“I know… it really works with drugs. Ask me how I know,” Orville said, glimpsing at her with a grin.
Rose flashed a flattened sort of smile and swatted him lightly on the arm.
“Now… you lot… it’s not something to go fuck around with,” Orville barked, moving past her and gesturing between his children again. “You don’t know what’s going on around here… and you don’t need to go and get mixed up in it.”
Michael remained quiet, simply nodding, as he usually did—but Zander and Verity instantly started yelling their arguments in response, both of them trying to scream over the other.
“Shut—the fuck up,” Orville demanded, jutting up a hand, then leaning forward and glaring at them from behind his lenses, his brows raising above them. “If I find out—that you’ve gone out there and gotten fuckin’ stoned on demon blood—than I am gonna rip your bloody asses off and throw ‘em in the blender, and then I’m gonna make you snort that .”
Zander made an odd face at his father, Verity reeling back and looking aghast. Michael merely covered his mouth, hiding a growing smile.
“You’re not gonna make us go back to sleep in two weeks again, are you?” Verity asked.
Orville and Rose stared at her for a second, exchanging quiet glances with one another.
Verity read their faces, then made another dramatic pouting expression. “You told us we could have a family meeting this time! You promised! You said 2026 was when we were—”
“Yes—we are,” Rose said, raising her voice and holding up a hand again. “We are going to decide if this is the correct time to remain awake and allow you all to start your lives—but you’ve all gotten off to a very poor start, as far as proving you’re responsible enough to do so.”
“I didn’t do anything!” Verity exclaimed.
“Your attitude , young lady,” Rose replied sharply. “You’re acting like a spoiled brat. And you .”
The mother turned and locked onto Zander.
“ You have put this entire family at risk, young man,” Rose told him disdainfully. “You are the reason that Michael was forced to go out there in the first place—just so you can go out and get involved with God only knows what. I don’t even want to think about where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing, or what you’ve been taking .”
Zander squinted oddly at her, tossing up his hands. “Who said I’ve been taking anything…?”
Rose stared very intently at him, her eyes narrowing into slits, and her mouth curling, giving him a knowing sort of look.
“I can see it a mile away,” she told him curtly, leaning slightly forward. “And you smell , dear. You stink like booze. Might want to wash all that shit off you.”
Zander fell silent, looking down and grasping the front of his jacket, resisting the urge to give it a whiff.
“M’yeah. She’s a hound dog for that,” Orville knew, patting Rose on the arm before walking further down. “Bloody police state whenever I came home back when…”
“Villy,” Rose hissed. “Hush.”
Orville continued to shuffle down the stairs, thumping the bottom of his cane atop them while he did. He stopped just in front of Michael, seeming to give him a deep, fixated stare from behind his dark lenses.
Michael returned his gaze, gulping and wondering what he might say. He gently bit his bottom lip, hoping not to be reprimanded in any way, though he doubted his father was particularly angry with him—because Orville was still in something of a joking mood, which usually meant he was not angry enough to resort to judgment or punishment.
“Whaddid you see?” Orville asked in a softer, lower voice.
Michael blinked, scraping his thumbnail on the edge of his sleeve. “Um… lots of things.”
“No… no, with him,” Orville clarified, waving his finger lazily over at Zander. “Whaddid you see when you went to go collect ‘im?”
Michael opened his mouth, but his brother spoke first.
“Just the club,” Zander shrugged. “I was just at the—”
“Zander,” Rose said loudly, giving him a look. “Your father is asking Michael. Not you.”
Zander swallowed a moan and tossed his head back, turning and pacing in place with agitation.
The parents’ attention fell back onto Michael, who opened his mouth and hesitated for a moment.
“Well, just… pretty much… the club, and the people there,” Michael mumbled. “And, I mean… yeah, granted, he was in a fight with some people when I got there… but there was definitely nothing demoney going on.”
There was a pause, the father Voltaire eyeing Michael rather thoughtfully. Then, Orville leaned a bit closer, making a brief, audible sniff.
“Mm. You smell like a girl,” Orville remarked, slightly tilting his head. “Did you meet a girl…?”
Michael’s mouth drifted agape, his heart making a jump.
Orville straightened back up, gently tapping his fingers to the top of his cane. He didn’t speak for several seconds, and when he did, he turned back around to face his wife.
“Well… we don’t need a family meeting, Rose,” Orville determined, slowly starting back up the stairs. “One’s addicted to drugs, and the other one’s met a girl. They’ll be tearin’ the bloody walls down to get outta here now.”
Rose stared intently at him as he meandered past her, glaring at the back of his head while he ascended the stairway.
“And we’re just meant to let them?” she asked.
“No letting about it,” Orville replied without stopping, lumbering further up the way. “They’re gonna do what they want… and we’ve gotta be awake to watch ‘em.”
Everybody watched as the father of the family headed back upstairs, slowly vanishing from their sight.
After he was gone, Rose turned her attention back onto everyone else in front of her—Michael, Zander, Verity, and William, giving each of them a serious stare.
“Your father knows that you will all need to live your own lives and learn from your own experiences,” she stated. “But that does not give you full permission to go out and get involved with whatever you please— particularly not anything involving drugs. Do you understand?”
Her eyes landed fixedly on Zander, who nodded mildly and halfheartedly in response.
“Whatever you’re taking—I expect you to stop ,” Rose ordered him. “Now is not the time to go toying around with that sort of thing.”
“Why?” Michael asked.
Everybody stared at him.
Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “You know why, Michael. You know very well what drugs do.”
“Yeah… but you said that like… like it was even worse of a thing to do now ,” Michael replied. “Why is it even worse to do drugs now? Like… even worse than it normally is?”
There was another pause.
“Dad said… we have no idea what’s going on out there right now,” Michael added. “What did he mean?”
Rose continued to stare, saying nothing.
Michael glanced over at William, then back at his mother, expecting an answer from either one of them.
William was the only person who left the home regularly, and he always reported important things back to the parents of the household, things like general updates in society, current news, and if any prolific members of the supernatural classes had been sighted. If anyone knew deeply of the situation outside of this house, it was either William or their parents.
“There is… a certain crime outfit running free in the town right now,” Rose began. “And… they like to spread their demon power through… their drug. Some new drug that sounds like a cancer, or something…”
“Malus, Madame,” William told her.
“Right… malus,” Rose nodded, waving a finger at him. “Malus is a very dangerous thing to be exposed to, you three. I just want to make absolutely sure that none of you are ever anywhere near it.”
Michael gnawed his lip again, barely sparing a glance over at his brother. Zander was glaring heatedly at him now, giving him a hard, forbidding look.
“And… I am not conspiring to control you,” Rose said with a pointed inflection, her eyes homing in on both Michael and William. “I understand that you want your freedom… and William, I understand you want them to have their freedom… but whatever happens from here, there are certain things that just must not be allowed into this family.”
The boys both nodded.
“Does that mean we’re staying awake?” Verity asked, a glint of hope in her eyes. “Can I finally go to high school?”
Rose sighed and nodded sideways. “We’ll see.”
Verity’s face suddenly lit up with joy, Michael and Zander both looking somewhat surprised. None of them had ever heard their mother even come close to agreeing to such a thing. Most times, she was adamantly dedicated to the routine of continuing everyone’s deep sleep.
“Now… you can all make something to eat if you like, but I’m not planning to resume family dinner until tomorrow,” Rose disclosed, turning and marching back up the stairs. “Eat and go to bed, all of you. Goodnight. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Michael muttered.
They watched Rose disappear up the stairway.
Once she was gone, Michael let out a breath, and Zander released a bigger one. Verity turned and ogled both of them with a look of intrigue.
“Did you really go get addicted to drugs?” she asked Zander.
“Not addicted , no,” Zander laughed, raking his short hairs back. “I just like fun. God for-fucking-bid…”
“Yeah… see, what he’s doing,” Michael said to Verity, wagging his finger over at his brother. “That’s exactly what you need to not be doing when you go outside.”
Verity smirked and laughed. “Yeah… Dad probably smelled like six different STDs on him, too.”
She and Michael both snickered at this, Zander giving them a flat, snide look.
“Did you eat anything, VV?” Michael thought to ask.
“No,” Verity shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well… go grab something, just something small,” Michael advised, pointing at the doorway to the back hall. “Because the hunger’s gonna hit everybody like a ton of bricks in the next twelve hours or so, unless you eat something now.”
Verity slung her head back, groaning dramatically into the air as she turned and walked out of the room. “Uuuuugh… I don’t feel like iiit…!”
“I don’t caaare …!” Michael yelled after her, cracking a smirk and pocketing his hands.
After his sister was gone, he turned to face his brother—but Zander had already strolled out of the room, leaving only Michael and William at the threshold of the stairway now.
“Hm. Well,” William muttered, adjusting his tie. “That went better than I thought it would…”
Michael squinted curiously at him. “Really…?”
“Oh yes,” William nodded. “I imagined they’d become irate with the two of you when your mother awoke early and decided to wake your father and your sister. But… your parents seem as if they’re not going to bother trying to restrict you any longer. I expect they’re getting a bit weary of trying.”
Michael made a slow nod, glancing down as a thought occurred to him.
“Hey… when did you go outside and see malus?” he wondered. “How did you know all that was going on?”
William met his eyes, starting to reply, but he fell silent, sighing and shaking his head once.
“Well… I’m not meant to tell you,” he whispered, leaning closer and lowering his voice considerably. “But I’m not actually the one who found that out. They are.”
Michael stared, his brow hardening, giving him a long, questioning stare.
“Mom and Dad…?” he uttered quietly.
William nodded.
“They both leave the house with every awakening,” the butler informed. “They just don’t let on about it.”
Michael took slightly back, staring at him in confusion. All this time—all these years—he’d been under the impression that William was the only person to ever leave the house. But now, it turned out—with every handful of years, each time the deep sleep ended—apparently, his parents would leave the house to venture into the outside world as well.
“Why would they do that…?” Michael breathed. “Why would they do that and hide it from us?”
“Well…” William made a sideways nod. “They were once very famous people, Michael. They do have to make appearances at least once in a rare blue moon… otherwise, everyone would simply presume them dead. Besides… they like to… well… keep their ear to the ground, so to speak. There is a reason that they’ve been so very stringent with the lot of you. They know all about the big drug craze that’s going on in Hailview right now… and they don’t want to… expose you too much. You are your father’s children, after all.”
Michael made a face. “Whaddo you mean…?”
William stared, his expression flattening. “You must know. Your father was a rock star, Michael, and he did live like a rock star. Addictions can run in the family. And, with the particularly dark way they’re happening in Hailview right now—they can become a gateway to something even worse than normal addiction. Courtesy of the Demon Class.”
Michael grimaced, thinking of everything he knew Zander to be involved with now, and he ran both hands down his face, releasing a stressed cloud of breath.
William read him astutely, perking his brow. “I expect your brother is already dabbling… and Lord knows that your sister is going to undergo all manner of peer pressure if anyone at the local high school offers her that rubbish. I suspect we’re bound to have our hands full with those two before long.”
Michael dropped his hands by his sides and shot him a caustic look. “As opposed to what? ”
William smirked and let out a chuckle.
“Oh… just imagine,” the butler carried on. “Miss Verity coming home from school, bringing a great big crowd of her teenaged and drug-addicted friends over to meet the family… hosting wild parties, breaking everything in the house… ah, the memories to be made. We’ll be just like the Brady Bunch.”
“More like the Adam’s Family,” Michael mumbled. “And yeah—by the way, duh, I know Dad was strung out like crazy back in the day. It’s freaking obvious.”
William laughed.
“Did him and Mom eat anything?” Michael inquired.
“Yes… I did happen to whip them up a nice lunch while you were out,” William informed. “You needn’t worry.”
Michael nodded and sighed at the floor.
William cupped his hands together again, surveying him thoughtfully for a moment.
“You think of them like a frail old couple, you know,” the butler remarked.
Michael met his eyes again and sputtered out a laugh. “Well, yeah. Mom is tiny, and skinny, and she gets all woozy if she doesn’t eat exactly right… and Dad shambles around with that cane looking like he can barely walk. They’re not exactly in their prime , Will.”
William stared at him, his mouth curling into a coy half-smile. “Passing one’s prime is a concern that only applies to those outside of a class such as theirs.”
Michael gave him a curious look, wondering exactly what he meant. Then, another thought occurred to him that he felt the need to voice aloud.
“You really think Mom and Dad would let VV bring friends over from school…?” he asked.
William made a pondering face, tapping his chin. “Mmm… hard to say. I suppose so, if she behaved well enough.”
Michael nodded mildly, staring down at the floor and thinking of Zariah.
William eyed him. “In fact… I daresay bringing a new person here could be quite helpful at opening your parents’ minds a bit. If… it’s the right kind of person.”
Michael’s eyes flickered back up to him. “The right kind?”
“Oh yes. Decent, polite, kind, and… more than anything else… trustworthy,” William said intently. “It’s very rare for your parents to allow anyone new into their innermost circle. The last outsider they allowed into their family was me… and that was about half a century ago now.”
Michael nodded again, falling momentarily silent. Then, he turned and gave the butler another questioning look.
“Was last night the final part of the three-day moon cycle, or is that tonight?” he inquired.
“That is tonight, Michael,” William told him.
“Okay… then I need to go cover up that window by your office,” Michael decided, breaking into a brisk stride toward the left doorway.
“Oh, be sure that you do,” William called after him jokingly. “I only run this house by myself on a regular basis. Surely, I’m not accustomed to it well enough to avoid moonlight all on my own. I’m really quite helpless and fragile.”
“Shut uuup!” Michael hollered, jutting a hand into the air as he walked out of the room.
William smiled, chuckling under his breath before turning on his heel and marching off as well.
Michael spent the rest of his evening in relative peace inside his longtime home; he strode down the darker hallways of the manor on his own, only lit by the dancing flames of the double-armed sconces on the walls, eventually thumping down to the basement and collecting a few pieces of wood.
Then—he made his way to the back hall, stopped at the window down the way from William’s office, and began hammering nails into the wood, covering the window with the 2x4s and blocking the moonlight off completely.
After that—he finally headed upstairs for the night, reaching the second floor and strolling down to the end of the hallway, approaching the dark mahogany doors that led into his bedroom, the biggest one on the floor.
When he pushed the doors open, he let a peaceful smile crawl across his face, suddenly feeling right at home.
He’d greatly missed his bedroom; it was a tall, wide, and rounded sort of room, with a high ceiling, a humongous and tall-standing window, and walls that were positively covered with décor, including band posters, movie posters, TV show posters, shelves filled with old toys, collectables, CDs, and cassette tapes, an empty bird cage handing from the edge of one of the wall shelves, where his childhood pet used to reside. A stereo was against the wall to the right, surrounded by several other things, and nearby it was a record player, the curtains halfway drawn, allowing a dim, peaceful stream of moonlight to wash into the quiet room, its soft, cozy light gleaming over the deep blue comforters of his bed. Directly across from the bed was his dresser—standing by the door—and he walked inside with ease, raising two fingers and using his power to send one of his vinyl records whizzing through the air from one of the shelves.
The vinyl disc landed perfectly on the record player, and Michael turned around and lowered his two fingers slightly, making the needle press onto the record and play.
He listened delightfully to the music, dancing to and fro in his room before he plopped back onto his bed, dust shooting up from the comforters that hadn’t been touched in years.
He laid there, arm draped over his stomach, music echoing softly, and flashing a contented smile as he dwelled over everything that had transpired throughout this exciting day.
For the first time ever—he didn’t have to return to his bedroom and dive into his books, his movies, or his DVDs of old TV shows in order to see the world; he could simply lay here, recollecting all his new memories of experiencing the world for real, and nothing else could compare.
He knew he would have to show extra care to look after his siblings, especially if they were finally going to be allowed to start their lives and explore the outside—but he hoped he could keep having the kind of experiences he’d had today as well, and he simply couldn’t wait for more.
Comments