Page 36 of Divine Violence
Athanasya hugged me as soon as I came over to her. “You did well. Better than well. We were all outside as you finished your little, well, you know.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know you were such a good actress,” she continued, walking me out of the church.
I wasn’t a good actress—not at all.
Echo
Ten years later
Seagulls cawedabove the sea stretching in front of my house, creating a perfect melody for the hot summer day at the coast of Cresthill. Oftentimes people asked why I chose to build one of my houses here, but it was simple really—lack of people.
And two weeks during the summer was the only time I was allowed to run away from a stuffy and suffocating Arkenheim where Selke Incorporate was based. No matter how much I loved my job, my people, my company, I needed this time to recharge and regroup.
Ten years ago, from this exact date, I vowed to myself that I would find time to enjoy little things, and if sipping coffee while watching the sunset was one of them, so be it.
The cliffs beneath the house that hid the beach were what attracted me to this place. A population of less than fifty thousand was what cemented my decision to buy it. My little paradise, far away from everything and everyone I knew.
I chose to ignore the pit that opened in my stomach as soon as I opened my eyes this morning. It’d been ten years but every Samhain, I felt again like that young girl. And every single Samhain, I had the same dream—Kairos’s face as he tumbled down. Dominic’s screams and Alexander’s hatred.
I promised myself I would put that behind—put them behind—and enjoy my life as much as I could. And grief—it came and went. These two days were always harder to get through, but I’d learned to cope. I managed my moods better than I did years ago, and I had a family now.
My grandma might have passed away five years after I finally came home, but The Order of Themis was my family in every sense of that word. Athanasya still pestered me constantly, and we all tried to get together at least once a year, considering that most of us had other jobs.
Like taking care of family legacy. Making sure that the thousands of employees of Selke Inc. still had a job which gave them a roof over their head. It didn’t really matter that the happiness I was constantly chasing never truly came to me.
I was safe. I was loved and no one could ever take it back from me.
Leander, a man I’d met three years ago, showed me that love didn’t have to be toxic. It didn’t have to hurt in order to feel something. And if he bored me to death some of the nights with his missionary pose and dull conversations that weren’t really satisfying, I could overlook those.
He made me happy—or well—as happy as I could be.
A doorbell rang, echoing through the house, breaking through my peaceful afternoon.
It couldn’t be Leander, he had a key, and he was supposed to come later in the evening. I chose to spend these two days completely alone, to grieve and be sad on my own terms, without anybody else telling me that things would get better.
But other than him, I didn’t expect anyone else.
I lowered the cup of coffee I was holding in my hand and placed it on the table, then slowly walked toward the dresser in my room. Old habits die hard, and it wasn’t like the underworld never saw my face.
Opening the third drawer, I pulled out the small, throwing knife and hid it on the inside of my sleeve. Next, I walked toward the control room and checked to see who was standing in front of the gate.
“The mailman?” I frowned. I didn’t order anything.
I buzzed him in, curious to see what he had for me, and slowly walked downstairs toward the main door, waiting for him to arrive.
Gravel scrunched underneath the tires of his van. As soon as I heard the doors opening and closing, I opened the front door, deciding to wait for him at the entrance.
“Good morning,” he said first, pulling a big, black box from the passenger seat. “I was worried that no one was home.”
“Morning,” I mumbled, while my fingers partially stayed on the handle of the knife. “Sorry, I was out on the terrace.”
He smiled, walking toward me. “That’s okay.” Within seconds, he was in front of me, lowering the box to the ground and pulling out a letter from his pocket. “Ms…” he narrowed his eyes on the scribbled writing on the letter. “Echo Selke?” He looked at me.
“That would be me.”
“I just need you to sign something for me.” He ran toward the van, pulled out a small device from the passenger seat, and walked back toward me. “You have a really nice place here.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. As he turned the device toward me, indicating to sign here and there, I pushed the knife into the waistband of my leggings when he wasn’t looking.
“Well.” He bent down, placed the black envelope on top of the box and picked it up before turning toward me. “This one is for you.”
