Rosehead

Chapter 2. The Mandatory Dinner

Doors snapped behind Lilith like jaws, making her jump. A crystal chandelier reminiscent of an inverted rose dangled from the ceiling. Alfred Bloom stood with an affixed smile, leaning against the fireplace mantelpiece. Two grand marble staircases snaked up to the second floor. On the left, a long empty hall ended in a cascade of glass doors leading into the garden. On the right, in an identical hall, a crowd of people milled about, settling down for dinner.

"Well...look at you, all grown up." Alfred took a step toward Lilith and her every bone cried to run, but she stood her ground. It wasn't polite to behave like a scared little girl in front of your grandfather now, was it? Panther bit on her arm for encouragement. Lilith pinched him back with affection.

"Hello," she said timidly.

"Last time I saw you, you were...oh, about this big?" Alfred's palm hovered mid-thigh.

"A few inches higher, actually. I was almost three years old, Grandfather," Lilith said sweetly.

"You used to call me Opa. Grandpa in German." Alfred stretched his lips. Under other circumstances, it might have passed for a smile. His silky accent and annoying pauses brought Lilith back ten years, to her grandmother's funeral. Terrifying images floated up from her memory like photographs: black crowd, white faces, and blood-red roses.

"Please excuse me, Grandfather, but I don't seem to recall that. I do remember one other thing," Lilith said, pausing for dramatic effect, "the lovely smell of your roses."

Panther perked up his ears.

"And how, exactly, did they smell?" Alfred inquired.

"Dad? You with Lilith? We're waiting," came from the dinner hall.

"Coming, my dear! Your daughter is distracting me with her charm," Alfred shouted back. "Well, looks like it's dinner time. And what is this...creature?" He pointed to the whippet.

"Oh, excuse me. I thought dad told you. Let me introduce you. Panther—Grandfather. Grandfather—Panther."

Panther grinned a sinister row of teeth.

Alfred's face lost its color. "I'm afraid...we'll have to put, um, Panther, where he belongs." He snapped his fingers. "GUSTAV!"

A tall bald man hurtled out of nowhere on shaky legs, his head shining with years of polished servitude. Lilith recognized him as the one who took the mastiff away.

"Herr Bloom?" Gustav squeezed between watery lips.

Alfred fired off something in German.

Lilith opened her mouth to ask what he meant, when Gustav unceremoniously yanked the dog out of her grip and, accompanied by Panther's protestant barking, carried him off.

"Panther! No! Give him back!" Lilith called, bewildered. "Where is he taking him?" She made to run after them.

"Why...to where dogs belong, of course. To the dog house. Shall we?" Alfred snatched her arm and wheeled her around. His close presence overwhelmed her senses with that same sickening smell, and his rudeness left her temporarily speechless.

They entered the dinner hall. It dazzled with its size and splendor. Numerous floor vases held rose bouquets of every possible shade of red: from burgundy, to cardinal, to shockingly bright carmine. They issued a pleasant and, thankfully, appropriate fragrance. A dinner table stood in the middle of the room, with a dozen people milling about. Lilith gasped for air, forcing herself to cool down. Her heart jumped out of her chest and her instincts screamed to run, but she was not the running kind. Years of being taunted at school taught her an excellent winning technique. By staying annoyingly sweet and calm she could drive anyone nuts, especially her mother.