Twenty-eight

“Sibbi, we have to get up for breakfast.” Farrin was shaking her gently.

“Nnnn, I don’ feel good.” Genevieve felt like she’d been beaten with sticks, getting up and moving was not going to happen.

“If we go dancing again, you’re cut off after two and drinking water for the rest of the night.” He started pulling the covers away.

“Let me sleeeep.” She buried her face in the pillow and curled into a ball.

“Breakfast. Do you remember coming home last night?” Farrin tugged her t-shirt down covering her leg a bit more.

“Nnn, I remember being barefooted and you waking me up to change into my pajamas.”

“You don’t remember parking yourself in Father’s lap, calling him an a*s and telling him you love him anyway?” 

Peeling her face off of the pillow she stared at Farrin’s tired but deeply amused expression. “You’re f*****g with me.”

He fell back onto the bed laughing. “No! No, I’m not. He didn’t know whether to be angry or charmed. He did, however, insist we both join him for breakfast. So get up, I’ll get your clothes together.”

Groaning, Genevieve clambered out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. She ran herself under the water for a moment to help wake up and then pulled the t-shirt back on to come out looking for clothes. 

Farrin had laid out the black and grey leggings with the outlines of trees and a long, ragged black cowl neck tunic that looked almost like half a monk’s robe with the way the belt tied in the middle. Dressing hurriedly and slipping on her low black boots, she followed Farrin down to breakfast, glowering at him. He looked a little tired but in his light colored slacks and button down shirt he looked before coffee tired, not been out ‘til all hours tired. Her glance in the mirror had shown a much different picture.

“Good morning!” Dara greeted them loudly and she whimpered trying to turn to leave the room. Farrin had been expecting it and caught her, spinning her almost off her feet and directing her back to the table.

“‘Morning.” Her mumble was met with a vicious smile.

“Come sit, I’m told you had a lovely evening.” He lowered his voice to a more normal tone but it was still too loud, it made her want to crawl under the table and go back to sleep.

“Yeah, I remember now why I don’t drink.”

“Moderation is the key, my dear.” Dara’s amusement made the room warmer and he summoned the coffee with a gesture. “I’m curious, you seemed convinced that blue drinks were particularly potent last night?”

“Yeah, god, Brandon always swears up and down the blue ones will knock you on your a*s harder, but they taste better.” She buried her face in her hands. “I should know better but I don’t like the taste of alcohol.”

“I’ve heard something similar, the sweet ones make you sicker in the morning.” His tone was almost consoling. “You had three with Gwen? How many did you have with your brother?”

“Three. Shots. Trying to get me buzzed enough to dance, but-”

“But you didn’t dance?”

“I might have after those three shots but I couldn’t stand in the shoes.”

“Ah.” It was disapproving but not directed at her.

“I didn’t realize she had such a low tolerance.”  Farrin sounded defensive.

“You got her drunk and left her to sit with a stranger?” 

“Not…” Farrin started and stopped.

“Drink your coffee, my dear.” Dara’s protective energy felt like a caress and she lifted her head obediently to get her cup.

After a moment’s silence she volunteered, “In his defence, I told him to go dance. I was fine by myself. And when the guy came over and bugged me,” she watched as Dara looked up at Farrin with a scowl very much like the one Farrin had worn the night before, “Farrin came right over and scared him off with a face just like that.”

Dara’s face softened slightly, “Did he?”

“That’s when the girl he was dancing with offered to move her friends to our table to keep me company. Gwen was the only one like me who didn’t want to dance. We just hung out and talked about how much we hate clubs while we drank.”

“Ah.” He sipped from his cup. “You’d have been content with the movie?”

“It was kind of nice to see what Farrin likes to do. I’m pretty sure he hated the movie as much as I hated the club.”

“Tell me about the movie.”

“Oh it was great, no plot, lots of explosions.” She had to smile as Dara pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a ‘turn your brain off and look at the pretty people being badass’ movie. Pure fun, no substance.”

“It was horrible, Father. You’d have bought the theater just to close it down.” Farrin was teasing and Dara actually laughed.

“Perhaps in the future, you might consider showing your sister our home entertainment room and if you must drink and dance, do it here?”

“The car ride was fun. The air was so cool.” Genevieve interjected wistfully.

“It was fun for you, I had to turn the heat on and the radio was so loud I was sure we were going to be stopped.”

“How could you tell, we must have been half deaf coming out of the club.” She laughed.

“When the bass vibrates your inner organs it’s too loud.” He glanced at Dara, “She was singing in the car, pop songs. I think she enjoyed the car ride more than anything else.”

“Bear in mind, she isn’t allowed to drive herself. After having seen what happens when the Sibyl starts to sing at the wheel it’s too dangerous.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Farrin frowned into his cup.

“I’ve been driving for years, it’s only happened a handful of times.” She bit her top lip as both of them fixed her with looks of firm disapproval. 

“No driving, Sybil.” Dara spoke icily.

“Fine, fine! No driving! God. I’m not a bad driver though.”

“I’m sure you do very well when you aren’t going into sibylline trances.” His tone suggested he was speaking to an idiot or a stubborn child.

“I do, thank you.” She sat up in her seat and sipped her coffee.

Farrin coughed as if he were trying not to laugh. “I always wondered what would happen if you met someone who could be as stubborn and contrary as you occasionally are, Father.” His amusement faded as Dara fixed him with a frown.

“Why? Are you less contrary or stubborn, brother mine?” Genevieve tried to put on an innocent expression.

“The two of you taking sides against me isn’t nice, Sibbi.”

“Sorry.”

“I enjoy it.” Dara made a gesture and food was brought to the table. 

Instead of the usual platters to choose from, a bowl of oatmeal with dates and honey was set down in front of her with a glass of a slightly murky white liquid. She looked at Dara dubiously.

“Coconut water, my dear. I had the kitchen staff prepare something for your hangover. This should make you feel better.”

“Thank you, and um … it’s supposed to look like that?” Eyeing it distrustfully she could feel Dara’s amusement.

“Yes. It probably won’t have a flavor for you, but it’s very healthy I’m told.” He smiled at her indulgently. “Drink it.”

Making a face she picked up the glass and tried not to think about the way it looked as she downed it. The oatmeal was at least something she was more familiar with and she tried to eat as much as she could but the texture was difficult to deal with as unwell as she was feeling.

“I hadn’t considered texture. Give your father a kiss, and you may go back to bed until you feel better.” Dara was smiling faintly.

“Thank you, Father.” Genevieve could feel his amusement and pleasure clearly as she kissed his cheek and put her arm around his neck.

“I’m sorry for striking you yesterday. I was tired and angry.” Dara offered gently.

She straightened up and looked at him, biting her top lip again for a moment. “I was kind of tired too, and I probably shouldn’t have argued about the water. I can be kind of a smart a*s.”

He smiled faintly. “You’re forgiven if I am. Go to bed, my dear.”

“You’re forgiven, Father.” She leaned back down and gave him another kiss and hug, this time he squeezed her arm.

Crawling back into bed felt like heaven. She didn’t bother to change, her clothes were comfortable enough. Sleep pulled her down quickly.

The grey room was as terrifying as before but it felt much more familiar. She stood shivering in the circles. Dara was studying her coolly, all traces of warm fatherly feeling gone from his features. He was up and walking. If she wouldn’t bend to the force of his will, she would submit to the fear of something else. Her heart was beating in her throat.

Looking past him she saw Remiel watching, looking angry and anguished. She tried to shout to make him leave, to keep him safe from Dara and his anger melted to helplessness. Dara began to turn to look at him and Genevieve screamed stepping out of the circles.

“Wake up!” Farrin shook her roughly. “Sibbi!”

She was shivering and panting as he wrapped himself around her and squeezed her. “Farrin?”

“It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. You’re safe, it’s all ok.”

“It felt real.” The trembling wouldn’t stop.

“It wasn’t, you’re safe. Let’s get water into you and maybe some lunch, that’s what I came here for.” Farrin pulled her gently up and poured her a glass of water.

After a few moments and a full glass she felt better.

“I was told there was screaming?” Dara was wheeled to the doorway.

“She had a nightmare, Father. Sibbi’s fine now.” Farrin stood and stroked her hair.

“The Sibyl doesn’t have nightmares, Farrin, she has visions. This one frightened you, my dear?” Dara was looking at her intently. “Tell me?”

“I was in your awful grey room in the circles. You were cold and angry. You were walking.” Genevieve shivered again. “I wouldn’t bend and you, you wanted to make me afraid so you…” She took a moment to compose herself, the Sibyl spoke the truth but she didn’t have to be specific. “There was something behind you. I came out of the circles screaming.”

“Ah.” He looked smug. “I know what you saw. They are frightening. But this vision can be avoided. I don’t like being angry with my dear Sybil.” He leaned his chin on his hand and his elbow on the arm of the chair. “We can discuss this later, my dear. We have a guest for lunch and I want to have you calm and collected.”

Nodding, she shivered again. “Yes, Father.” Something was coming. A test. She felt like she was going to fail it, her nerves were on edge.

Dara looked to Farrin, “Like we discussed.” He was rolled away leaving her to look at Farrin helplessly.

“He wants you in the jewelry he gave you, and looking nice. The black dress you picked out and the boots from last night. He had hosiery bought for you.”

“Having jewelry on would be good. It’ll help steady me.” Genevieve nodded. “Let me get dressed.” 

“I’ll be back shortly, I have to change too.” Farrin gave her a peck on the lips. “Someone is coming to do your hair and a bit of makeup again.”

“You’re kidding me.” She looked at him with a frown. 

“Father wants you to look nice.”

“At least he didn’t ask me to be charming.” She muttered sullenly.

“He doesn’t usually ask for the impossible.” Farrin gave her a smile before he left the room.

It didn’t take long to dress, and she practiced walking in the heels until the woman came to do her hair and makeup. Her hair was put up in a carefree looking, loose, braided style with strands artfully coming down. It looked elegant and at the same time like she’d just tossed it up without thinking about it. The makeup was light and almost unnoticeable, just enough to make her look smooth and put together.

The woman in the mirror looked like she belonged here. When Genevieve stood up to go to the door the woman helpfully gave her some tips on walking in the heels and she practiced for a moment with her assistance. 

Farrin caught her as she was leaving the room. “Sibbi! You look amazing.” He looked her over with an appreciative smile.

“I feel like a doll.”

“An expensive doll.” He smiled and took her arm. 

She focused on walking, head high, shoulders back. Walking into the dining room she saw Dara first, the delight on his face made her feel a little better about being dressed like a doll. And then she saw his guest and froze. Demi.  

“Ginny! Look at you! All grown up and looking like you’ve been in houses like this all your life. I was just telling Mr. Mesny that if you aren’t mine somebody swapped you at birth.” She smiled and gave Genevieve a look that screamed at her to behave or she would catch it. “Aren’t you going to say hi to your momma?”

“Father, why did you bring this b***h here?” It was all she could do not to scream obscenities.

“Be polite, Sybil.”

“I would rather eat glass.”

“I raised you better than that Ginny. I taught you manners, now get your skinny butt over here and use them.”

“Oh, hell no. You taught me how to make myself small enough to disappear, how to steal, and to trust absolutely no one. Manners wasn’t even a thought in your head. F**k you.” Genevieve was shaking with rage. Farrin gripped her arm tightly.

Dara laughed softly but this time the hair on her neck didn’t rise. “My sweet Sybil does have a temper. You look like you want to rip her head off, my dear.”

“She might look like you but you want to have your tests redone. Ginny’s a little con artist like her daddy was.”

“No. Genevieve Geary died when she was two weeks old. You killed the poor thing with neglect and when Veronica offered you my daughter you took her to replace the dead one.” Dara said it so casually and with such a cold smile on his face all Demi could do was stare at him. “I know. I need my daughter to know. You didn’t replace your daughter out of regret or remorse. You replaced her for the occasional money from her father, and so you wouldn’t go to jail for killing your own child.”

Demi stuttered and looked around like an animal in a trap.

“Come here, my dear Sybil.” Dara held out his hand.

It felt like a dream, or a nightmare. Everything was slow and buttery, normal but not. She was approaching and reaching out for his hand without even meaning to.

“I’m going to show you something, Sybil. Do you love your father?”

“Yes.” The necklace she was wearing felt as heavy and inescapable as chains. Dara reached out and grabbed hold of Demi and Demi took hold of her other hand. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. A conduit being used against her will.

When Dara released her she fell back and hit the floor hard, curling in pain and shame. 

“Sibbi! Sibbi are you…”

Genevieve vomited on the floor, stomach acid and water.

“My Sybil. Shhhh.” Dara was kneeling stroking her hair. “You’ve done something very kind for your father, and given justice to poor little Genevieve, there’s no reason to be so upset.” 

“To you I am closed, Dara Mesny. Closed.” The words came out between shudders and she couldn’t feel Dara at all any more. It was as if there was a blank space where he was kneeling.

“You can’t tell me you feel badly for the woman. Her death was far quicker than she deserved.” He stood and looked down at her with disappointment. “Help your sister back to her room to get cleaned up. I want her to come back down for lunch.”

“I will not eat your food. I will not sit at your table. It is done. There will be no more tenderness, no more respite. The Sibyl will not serve.”

“You will reconsider.” Dara snapped. “Take her.”

In her room, Genevieve stripped off the clothes and jewelry, eying the diamond with distrust. Slipping into one of Farrin’s white shirts despite his protests she went back over the room with salt water. 

“Sibbi, be reasonable. You need to eat.” Farrin tried to grab hold of her arm and she splashed him with salt water before wrapping her hand around his ring.

“You are free of his influence. He will not be able to sink his claws into you, he cannot read you. I need you to take care of me as best you can, but you have to walk a fine line. Give the appearance of serving him. Obey his commands and you’ll be permitted to take care of me.” She took a breath, “I will not eat. The end of it all is coming quickly, but I will spare you as much pain as I can.” 

He crushed her in an embrace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to do that to you.”

“Worse is coming.” Wrapping her arms around his waist carefully so that she didn’t spill the water she took a moment’s comfort.

“Something odd just happened.” Dara was standing in the doorway. “I can’t feel you clearly in this room, Farrin, but now I can’t feel you at all.”

“She splashed me and said I’m free of your influence, you can’t sink your claws into me or read me. Can she really do that?” Farrin kissed her head.

“We’ll see. Why are you not dressed, Sybil? We can discuss what happened over lunch.”

She didn’t bother to answer him, simply releasing Farrin and retreating to the bathroom. Through the door she heard, “She said she’s not going to be eating anymore at all. The end is approaching quickly. I think she might be planning to starve herself to death.”

“No, she simply wants to make certain she’s weak enough to die when I put her in the chamber. I prepared for this, there’s no need to be concerned. I may have to hurt her, but she will come around, Farrin.” He paused. “I will need you to help me.”

“I want to live, and I want her to live. What do you need me to do?”