Serial Novella: Slave to Blood Chapter 7
We have reached the midway point
Marina
The look on Catriona’s face said it all, but Marina still felt the urge to ask, “What do you think?”
“This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen.” Catriona moved around the penthouse suite, reaching out to touch some of the ornamental pieces on display before pulling her hand back as though burned.
“You won’t break anything,” Marina laughed. “And even if you do, everything can be replaced.”
Catriona moved over to the large windows and looked out at the place she had called home for far too long, the place she would be leaving behind to embark on a new chapter. She turned and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes to stop the room from spinning. “I’m a wee bit tipsy.”
“You deserve to be. You are celebrating a new job.”
“Aye. I’ve gone and taken a job I know nothing about from a woman I hardly know. My da would kill me if he knew. He always said I was reckless.”
Throwing her heels aside, Marina sat on the couch and stretched her legs out onto an ottoman, wiggling her toes as pins and needles set in. “I probably should tell you more about me, but I’m afraid I’ll scare you off.”
Staggering slightly, Catriona made her way to the couch and sat down heavily. “Go ahead and tell me; I can take it.”
Marina could feel the girl’s eyes boring a hole through her, seeing everything tucked away inside, finding the cabinet of dark secrets to which only a select few had access. How much to tell and how much to keep locked away? Pondering the question in her head for a moment, Marina settled on ripping off the Band-aid in a single pull. “I bathe in blood to stay young.”
Closing her eyes and scrunching her nose, Catriona looked as though she had just stepped in shit. “So, it’s not Oil of Olay, then?” she chuckled.
“I…”
“My being in such close proximity to that book of yours doesn’t surprise me,” Catriona interrupted. “This city shows me things, mostly bad.”
“Like me with my throat cut?”
“Aye, like that. But it has also shown me the threeness.”
Tucking her legs under her body, Marina scooted in closer to the girl, giving her a little nudge as she noticed the effects of the Guinness beginning to kick in. “Tell me about that,” she whispered.
“About what?”
‘The threeness.”
“Ach. It’s a Celtic thing that’s not so easy to explain.”
“Try me.”
“When I was a wee girl, and I started seeing things, the people in my town started calling me the Morrigan.” Catriona stared off into space, eyes blinking slowly. “The Morrigan was a goddess who could foretell the future, but she was also a warrior who helped deliver victory to those she chose to touch.” She closed her eyes and fell silent.
“Catriona…Catriona, wake up.”
“I’m awake, you old cow. Sorry, I didn’t…I’m trying to think how to explain it is all.”
She wanted to slap the girl out of her impending slumber, but Marina patiently watched as Catriona swayed, head lolling back before snapping to attention.
“I was just me, of course, but the Irish would talk about the Morrigan as being three sisters who would wash the bloodied battle clothes of those destined to die. I think we might be the sisters.”
“Who?”
“Me, you, and the lady in the journal. What did you say her name was again?”
“Elizabeth Bathory.”
“Yes. Me, you, and Elizabeth. The threeness.” Catriona turned to face Marina, eyes drooping. “I need to come with you to wash your bloodstained clothes because I believe you are fated to die. It’s my purpose.”
None of what Catriona had said made any sense. It all sounded like the ramblings of a drunkard, but Marina could feel the truth of it nibble away in the deepest recesses of her mind. The beep of her smartphone brought her back to earth. Picking it up, she read the message from James, sent a response, and then turned the phone off.
“Can I go to bed now?” Catriona mumbled.
“Of course you can.” Marina stood and helped the girl to her feet. She put her arm around Catriona and guided her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. Once she was settled, Marina climbed in beside her and propped herself up on her elbow, the shallow breathing of her guest calming her nerves. “Goodnight, my sweet Morrigan.”
“Lady Marina,” Catriona whispered.
“I’m here.”
“Will you read to me some more in the morning?”
“Of course. Now, sleep.”
***
Marina awoke to the smell of brewing coffee and the sound of bacon sizzling in the pan. Rolling over, she grabbed her phone off the bedside table and turned it on, groaning when she saw that it was not yet 8 a.m. The thought of rolling over and going back to sleep was appealing, but seeing Catriona again was higher on the list of priorities. She was unsure whether the poor girl would remember anything from the night before, so another heart to heart might be necessary before Bethany and James arrived.
She opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a hairband, which she used to put her flowing locks in a ponytail. With one final stretch, she climbed out of bed and made her way through to the living area, where she found Catriona dancing to music playing quietly on her phone. “Good morning,” Marina called, causing the girl to jump.
Catriona spun around, somehow managing not to spill a drop of her coffee as she did so. “Good sweet Jesus, you scared me.” A look of panic spread across her face. “Did I wake you?”
“Not directly. I blame the coffee and bacon. Can you pour me a cup?”
“How do you take it?”
“Black, please.”
Marina sat in the breakfast nook just off the kitchen and watched Catriona work. She moved gracefully, finding what she needed with an economy of movement that made her look as though she had spent her entire life in that kitchen.
Placing the coffee on the table, Catriona said, “Breakfast is about to be served. Can I get you some bacon and eggs?”
Feeling her stomach flip, Marina shook her head. “It’s a little early for me just yet. I’m good with the coffee. Make your plate and then come sit with me.”
“Shall I grab the journal, too?” Catriona asked, nodding in the direction of the book. “You did promise to read to me some more this morning.”
“Wait, you remember that?”
Catriona threw her head back and laughed. “I do. You forget I’m a sturdy lass. I’d lose my Irish card if I couldn’t handle a few pints of Guinness. I was more tired than drunk. I don’t get a lot of free time.”
“Then, by all means, bring me the journal, and I shall read some more.”
They sat and talked as Catriona ate breakfast, wolfing down bacon and eggs as though it was the first meal she had eaten in years. “That’s some good bacon, Miss MacCarthy.”
“I told you last night to call me Marina.”
“You did, but that was a social setting. I am in your employ now. It’ll be Miss MacCarthy from here on out.” Catriona grabbed the dirty dishes and washed them up before wiping her hands dry on a dishtowel and retrieving the journal. Sitting back down at the booth, she slid the book across the table. “Where are Bethany and James?” she asked.
“They share a room just down the hall. We have time before they get here.”
“So, they’re a couple then? It’s none of my business; it’s just that I heard you mention to James about you having some relationship with Bethany.”
“What is it they say on Facebook? It’s complicated.”
Catriona nodded as she averted her eyes. “It’s just that, well, I’m not into that at all. Don’t get me wrong, I like sex, but…”
Marina smiled warmly. “Relax. That’s not part of your job description. What you did this morning with coffee and breakfast, that is what I need from you, as well as telling me the things that you see and dream.”
Visibly relaxing, Catriona said, “That I can do. What about the whole bathing thing? What’s my part in that?”
“James takes care of the finer details. I would like you to be there when I bathe, tell me what you see, what you feel.”
“I might not see or feel anything.”
“I think you will. My home has, how can I put this delicately, a bit of history. We have a long drive back to New Orleans today. I’ll tell you about my home, my family, and how the journal fits into all of it on the way.”
“I would like that.”
“Good, then it’s settled.” Marina flipped open the journal and began to read.