Chapter 2: My Castle

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Chapter 2: My Castle

                       

“Turn around,” growled Dimitri as the driver’s foot pressed against the brake. He still driving, trying to get us into the Court’s main parking lot; he was bringing us towards the people.

“I can’t, sir,” he said quietly. I heard no fear in his voice, but I could see it in his eyes that glanced nervously at the rearview.

“Turn. Around,” Dimitri snapped again.

“I can’t, sir. I have instructions,” he repeated sternly.

“And a death wish,” I muttered under my breath as we continued forward.

                The crowd came down on the car, surrounding it and barely moving out of the way as the car moved. They beat on the windows, shot pictures of us, yelled questions that were a garble of words not even they understood. They’d apparently missed us.

                We were both on edge, watching the fists slam against the glass encasing us. Dimitri didn’t flinch, but his eyes scanned quickly, assessing the threat. I just stared ahead and watched the car crawl through the melee.

“Has it been like this the whole time?” I asked. I felt like a zoo animal being watched and screamed at. I hated cages.

“Since the day you left,” grumbled the driver.

                Suddenly, Dimitri’s threw his door open. He knocked a reporter down on the way, but he was gone; leaping out of the car and sprinting into the sea around us. He pulled me with, dragging me onto the street. People screamed louder, now in outrage that he’d brought someone different back with him; they didn’t recognize a blonde Rose.

“Run!” Dimitri commanded. I wasted no time in following.

                We ran as fast as if a Strigoi were on our heels, splitting the crowd and ducking down the sidewalks we once protected. Being a Court Guardian, you learned all the short cuts; it came in handy in situations like this.

                The mob couldn’t keep up and fell behind somewhere around the dining center. We continued to run; past the malls, the airport, the Queen’s Quarters. My sunglasses fell away somewhere around the chapel and Dimitri’s jacket was left in the gardens; we just ran to see the place we’d been hiding from for so long.

                I chased him, laughing as he dodged around corners or stopped to kiss me in the shadow of a tree. For the first time since our wedding, I felt free.

                Somehow, we ended up in our neighborhood, Dimitri slowing to a jog as I panted beside him. The houses had different decorations out front and the cars weren’t the ones we recognized but it was our street; it was our home.

“They’ll find us here,” I said quietly, almost afraid to break the silence around us.

“No,” he countered, eyes on our driveway, “This is probably the last place they’ll look because it’s the most obvious.”

                I smirked. “I’m sure they’re still hung up on the fact you brought a blonde home instead of your wife.”

                He chuckled softly and came to a stop in front of our house.

                His smile disappeared as we stood there, side-by-side, in front of the place that should’ve been filled with happiness. We’d had plans of renovating our bedroom; we’d even had frames picked out for wedding photos Lissa made us take before the actual wedding.

                Now, it was empty; it only held memories of who we’d been before the massacre.

“Do you think the key is still in that plant?” I asked quietly.

“Only one way to find out,” he answered as he laced his fingers through mine.

                We walked up to the front porch and he reached into the weathered bush underneath our mailbox, producing a dingy set of keys from the dirt.

“Shall we, Mrs. Belikov?” he asked, dangling them between us.

                I laughed at the name, my real name. I hadn’t been called that since our wedding. “Let’s go.”

                He unlocked the door and let it swing open, the hinges squealing in protest. We remained on the porch for a heartbeat before Dimitri tugged me inside.

                I expected to feel like an intruder but, no; the weight of Court shrugged off my shoulders as I ventured farther into my home. The place was still the same; same furniture, same coffee brewer, same staircase. I ran my fingers over the railing, looking upward at the top floors illuminated by the morning sun. The rays bounced off of the mirror in the bedroom, making the steps glisten. It looked like the path to heaven.

“Roza,” Dimitri called.

                I forced my eyes away and towards the living room where he stood, his lips in a deep scowl.

“She dropped off our wedding presents,” he said, his voice blank.

                The table and couch were overflowing with prettily wrapped gifts, carefully stacked into a mountain that felt like a dagger through the heart. There were so many; the last wishes of our friends and family. It looked like they’d been there for awhile, just waiting for us to return.

                I had the strong desire to burn them.

“We’ll deal with it later,” I said, tearing my eyes away. “Let’s get changed. I have a feeling we’ll need our blacks.”

                He nodded, skirting around the mountain of gifts addressed to a happy couple that never got to exist.

                We walked upstairs in silence to change into a uniform we hadn’t touched in what felt like a century.

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