- Chapter 49 -

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Rachel had set the table with a platter of cold cuts and cucumber cream sandwiches. Both she and Alexander dug in eagerly. I slowly pulled apart the sandwich on my plate, my paranoia unbearably heightened. Why had Kiiji told me that I couldn't rely on Damian to help me? Why would he care? It was the first time the reaper had said more than a few sentences to me, and his words had seemed such a dire warning. Dangerous beings...more dangerous than Damian knew...what did he mean?

"Not hungry?" Alex spoke around a mouthful of beef cuts. Rachel looked immediately concerned, and I hoped she didn't think it was because I disliked her food.

"Not as hungry as I thought," I said, with the weakest smile I had managed yet. I still felt as if the food I'd eaten that morning was going to come up. I sipped at my water, but I needed something else. I needed to calm down. "Is there any wine, Rachel?" My voice was almost pleading. I had very seldom drank in my life - besides sips at communion and the occasional drink with the girls at the Doll House. Rachel smiled, held up a finger to let me know to wait, and took part of a sandwich with her before she went - presumably to fetch the wine I had requested. Alex looked as if he was considering saying something, but filled his mouth with more food and remained silent.

Rachel returned with a dry red wine, exactly the kind I liked - bitter and savory. I filled a glass - certainly fuller than was proper - and gulped through the first serving. Both Alex and Rachel gave me rather quizzical looks. Rachel let it go before Alex did. The man watched with slowly narrowing eyes as I poured myself more.

"Big drinker for a wee thing," he said. I finished my second glass, even though the final swallow went straight to my head and the room spun for a moment. But it did the trick: my lingering panic seemed suddenly inconsequential. I shrugged, as if it hadn't had the slightest effect on me.

"I have a high tolerance," I said, though my words slurred ever so slightly. I was able to eat then, even though the food felt like wax in my mouth.

Oil and wine, oil and wine, oil and wine-


My drinking did not stop with lunchtime. I took the bottle with me from the table and carried it about the house, swigging from it every few minutes. Alexander had apparently not been told to prevent me from getting drunk, although he seemed increasingly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Might be time to put down the drink, lass," he said, when I announced that I was going to retire to my room for a bit - with my wine still in tow. I'd grown irritated with him following me all about the house like a dog, as if I would burst into flames the second he took his eyes off me. I didn't need a nanny. I gave him a glowering look.

"Oh I'm sorry, lad," I said, making such a mockery of his accent that his face looked rather stunned. "Last I checked you weren't my father. I'll drink as I wish." Just to drive it home, I took another sip from the bottle. They were getting a little harder going down, but at least I didn't have to think about the Grey One anymore. I didn't have to think about Kiiji and his strange warnings, I didn't have to think about the voices in my head. The more I drank, the less sense they made. It seemed a fine scenario to me.

"Damian wasn't wrong," Alex said, and rolled his eyes. "You are a damned sassy one."

"Are you going to tell Daddy Damian when he gets home?" I went on, still mocking, unable to stop. "Tell him I've been bad to the nanny?" I waved him off, as if he were little more than a pesky fly. I was ready to march out, seclude myself to my room and be done with him, but...

"Daddy Damian? I've certainly never heard that one before."

Damian was already home. Alex didn't need to tell him a thing. By the expression on his face - somewhere between amusement and disbelief - I suspected he'd heard almost the entirety of our exchange. He slipped off his long coat, dripping with rain, and set his bag down beside the doorway.

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