The Ball of Batt Mansion- Caged Bird

20

The Ball of Batt Mansion

Dove followed Clara through the gaping doorway. She would’ve preferred the mouth to hell by a mile. This was close, though. The sound of talking, clinking glasses, violins, and crackling fires disoriented Dove for a moment. There were people everywhere. Some women in plated corsets, others in eccentric crinolines. Dove had to admit, the whole place was something out of a gothic portrait. She could picture herself behind a huge canvas, invisible to the flurry of peacocks and flamingos in front of her. Nothing but her colours. Unfortunately, Dove was shortly pulled out from the depths of her imagination when a certain raven-haired man appeared in front of her. He was the spitting image of a classic vampire. Old Mr. Castor Batt. She thanked Circe she could hide her disgust well, even disguising it as a polite smile.

“Miss Levany. How splendid to see you, little one. It has been too long.” He spoke in a slow, deep voice. It was knocking Dove asleep. She was adamant on not having to keep a conversation with this old corpse.

“Yes, it’s been too long. How nice to see you again, sir.” She smiled, tightly. She didn't really care if he saw through it.

His piercing blue eyes shone in a way Dove deemed inhuman, and she seriously questioned if he really was part-vampire. It would be very hypocritical, seeing as his little posh friends would burn the house to the floor. Sad, really. The aesthetic was very pretty. Speaking of pretty, Castor’s wife stood a couple feet taller. Dove smiled politely, but almost dropped her face when she saw who was standing behind her. It was Miriam Batt. She stood slightly behind an older man. He looked mean. She did not look up. Dove wanted her to meet her eye, sparkle her eyes at her like she’d done when they were hiding, all those years ago. But Ri did not look up. Dove felt like she’d swallowed stones. She hadn’t gotten away. She’d married him. And, she looked so different, her skin had lost its glow. Her hair was pin straight, tied back with a claw. She was older too, she must have been around 23. Dove felt so sad for her. She thought of the mischievous 18 year old who had found her under the stairs. The girl with a plan to run away. Could they ever, though? Could they ever escape from the claws that persisted, and persisted? Dove continued the polite drabble, ignoring the way Miriam’s husband leered like a vulture. She had to get her attention. Bring her back. She gave a small excuse, passing Audrey and Castor, and she gently knocked into Ri as she passed her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It's Miriam isn’t it?” Then she dropped her voice, glad to have got her to look up. “Ri, it’s me,” she whispered, still moving slowly away from the ears of the others.

She searched Dove’s eyes for a moment, before she saw the recognition settle in her face.

“Little Dove..” She looked at her with eyes full of sadness. “Oh..”

That was all she was able to say, before her husband took her arm firmly, and she was whisked away with such force that she burned with the desire to rip his ugly hands off her, and scream at her to run.

Run, Ri, run. Just like you always wanted to.

Dove was feeling withered now, she wanted to go and hide, but nobody would be there with her. Dove looked over, and found her mother was shooting daggers from across the rows of champagne (she had slipped behind a statue, attempting to avoid this exact situation), and she hoped she could slip away before Storm Clara reached her. Where is Raine? Dove could only think about him, the hand she could grab in the middle of this mess. Someone safe to cling to. But Clara had stalked over, eyes clouded over.

“Dove. You are not going to spend the rest of the evening standing there like a tree. You look like a picture. Now, go and find a partner to dance with before the banquet, or I will.”

The sweetness of the violins suddenly became distorted, as Dove was pushed into the large group of dancers on the chequered floor. Feeling like a lamb pushed into a wolf’s den. With an audience. She wished she’d had a drink now, as she walked between two skinny men, refusing to meet their eyes. She walked slowly, with an air of indifference about her. This was until her gnarled mask blocked the entire view of where she was treading, and she stumbled over a foot, or Circe knows what. But she didn't hit the floor. A firm grasp jolted her upright again, and Dove found herself face-to-face with a stranger. He was rather tall, decked out in all black, with a red-rimmed crystal mask, covering everything but his fox-like mouth, beard curling sophisticatedly.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. It looked awfully as though you were going to fall. I couldn’t let such a gown be creased or crushed.” His voice was low and soft. His grip was sending flutters through Dove’s body. She was glad most of her face was concealed, for she was definitely blushing.

“Thank you, sir. On behalf of myself, and my dress. I’m sorry. I can, erm, be quite clumsy..”

Dove was aware of Clara’s eyes boring into her again. She wanted her to dance. Did she even remember how to?

The stranger smiled, and let his hand fall on her waist. “No need to thank me. Care to dance, miss?”

“Of course,” Dove replied, silently cursing herself, but she smiled at him with her painted lips. However, she couldn't help but be wary of the man, for it could be any of Batt’s horrid acquaintances. But, he seemed gentleman-enough. She was vaguely aware of the time, and when Raine would be waiting for her, but was also aware of the lingering hand brushing her waist, his fingertips dancing on the hem of her dress. Damn this corset, it was too tight. Breathing was already hard enough. They moved gently, until more of a pace was picked up. Dove was gaining more confidence, and was also aware of the many eyes on her. It could be her paranoid side, but the dress really was glamorous, so she did not blame them for staring. Nor did she care, not when this gorgeous stranger twisted and turned with such animal grace and honour. He spun her out, and reeled her back in. Dove hadn’t danced this well since her lessons when she was younger. The stranger held her so gently, and whispered in her ear after every well-performed move.

“That’s it,” he was whispering now, Dove smiling into his barely-visible eyes. Her eyes had been locked on his mouth practically the entire dance. She felt like she’d seen a mouth like that before. She just couldn’t place where, or when, not when the music drowned her eardrums, or when his large hands twisted and turned her.

As the song changed, he leant into Dove, chests almost touching. Their mouths were inches apart. The room suddenly became hotter.

“I thank you for the dance, ma’am. I hope we see each other again this evening. I cannot think of a more beautiful lady in this entire mansion.”

Dove stared at the masked man, a response on her lips. But words failed her. She was blushing furiously.

“I never got your name,” he continued.

He wanted her name. What was my name again?

“Ah, Dove. My name is Dove.”

“Of course,” his mouth twitched as he spoke. Before Dove could ask the stranger his, he had slipped away, into the thrum of the crowd. Dove scanned the room, and couldn’t spot her mother, so she took the opportunity to escape too, in case there was another dance waiting for her. Her feet were far too achy already.

Dove tried to casually move out of sight. She had a hunger for an isolated room. Needed something to make her feel more real. What had just happened? Who was that man? Did she even want to know? Feeling slightly dizzy, Dove left the chequered dance floor, returning to the statue she had slipped behind before. She grabbed two glasses of champagne, and headed for the nearest exit. Wishing she could turn invisible. She had danced, twirled and shone in her shiny little dress, so now it was time to find Raine before anything else could distract her. She wanted him there for the banquet. It would save her from talking to anyone else. Moving quickly, she dove out of the room and into a candlelit corridor made of dark, black pillars and cobwebbed portraits. Were they fake? Dove wondered how big these posh bastards went out for Halloween. She’d kill to see that (pun intended). They’d probably have dancing skeletons, or something even more mad. Heading left towards what looked like the garden, Dove’s heart skipped a beat as she thought of Raine in a mask. There was something about them that she loved. The corridor echoed with her sharp heels, dress billowing out behind her like a huge, golden parachute. The people sounded far away from her now, cut off. Like she’d put up a shield. The sight of a garden made her heart jump a double back flip. Raine had to be out there, perched on a wall or something. Dove forced herself to be calm, opening the large patio doors as quietly as possible, sneaking as though she were a ninja. A golden, shiny ninja. But, she immediately let out a huge sigh.

For fucks sake.

There were dozens of ravens in the air and on the ground. The garden stretched on, black and white pillars lining the shape of it, overgrown trees stood on guard, looming in the growing dark.

“Raine?” Dove whispered, head pointed to the sky. He had to notice her. How would she find him in a swarm like this? They were cawing, lifting their heads in wonder at the strange golden girl in front of her, but none of them were transforming into the lovely shape of Raine Lovell. She had to keep looking, but she couldn’t be found out here on her own. Especially not by her mother. And especially not by her father.

Circe, where the fuck is he?

Right, she just needed to calm down. When had Raine disappointed her before? She wasn’t going to be stuck alone, surrounded by masks, and her parents, and over-privileged lunatics that think they’re better than everyone else, and..and…

Dove had to sit down. This dress really didn’t accommodate heavy breathing. Or, any breathing at all, realistically. She sat there for a few moments, not wanting to return to that damned chequered floor. There was a quiet hum from the music within. Out here there were only the sounds of nature, wings flapping, trees rustling. Dove had to stop herself from thinking of Mrs Chevey’s garden. Thorns in her palms.

Her head was suddenly spinning, so she must have been imagining it. She must have been imagining the huge raven that swept across the garden out of nowhere. The one with a blue sheen. The one that circled her twice, and landed on Dove’s fucking head. She laughed so loudly, she had to clap her golden covered hands to her face when the huge bird hopped down, cocking his head and squawking.

“Raine?” She whispered, through a huge grin. The bird nodded, before taking flight towards the house. The huge doors groaned as they opened. Circe, he can even perform wandless magic as a bird? Dove giggled again, whisking up her dress as she ran after the huge raven. She followed him down another dark corridor, into a hidden room. When she reached the room, there was a fizzle of magic, and Raine was standing there, wand in hand. The transformation trickled away, lights blinking into nothing. At least these ones didn’t hurt.

“Raine.” She rushed in for a hug, his hands ran along her back. When she pulled away, there was a strange look in his eye.

“Well, that’s a nice hello.”

“I thought you wouldn’t…I got scared.”

His eyes shone again. “Of course I came. I had to.”

Dove crossed the room, perching on a nicely polished desk. Her eyes flicked back up to Raine, now taking in his outfit. Circe, he was gorgeous. A dark, crimson suit, underlined with a black shirt. He wore two golden rings, and Dove could have crumbled at the sight of them. His hair fell on his face, his brown eyes peered at her. She watched the way he took in her outfit too, eyes sliding down her body. She could have sworn his breath hitched. She crossed her leg over slowly, watching him take in the garter that peeked out as the dress slid off her thigh. Her stomach was going to burst with butterflies. His hand ran through his hair, and he smiled. His eyes went to the floor, before he cleared his throat. Dove had to say something. The silence was going to choke them.

“You forgot your mask, you know.”

“It’s in my pocket. I’m assuming you want me to put it on,” he smirked.

“Please do,” Dove smiled back, tongue sliding across her lips. Oh yes, she did like masks.

“Only because you asked me so nicely..”

Raine put his on, black and red. It covered everything but his eyes. He looked incredible.

Dove could only stare at him. She was gnawing on her lip, aware of how little she was hiding her attraction. She pictured the chequered floor, and a brilliant idea flashed in her mind.

She held out her hand. “Care to dance, Mr Lovell?”

Taking her hand gently, he replied: “Why, I’d be honoured, Miss Levany.”

They joined hands, Dove rested her head against Raine’s shoulder. He smelled of coffee. And something else. She was getting nervous again, but she silently thanked herself for the champagne she’d drank before she’d found this room. She felt it bubbling up inside her, and they moved quietly in sync to the soft music heard through the walls. Dove was aware her father may be here soon, but right now it was only her and Raine in this dark room. Dove had her eyes closed, resting against Raine, when she opened them and found a fucking candlebra had been lit on the black mantlepiece in the centre of the room. She now met Raine’s fiery eyes, as his hands slid up and down her body in an almost enchanting way.

“Raine…” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Take your mask off.”

Dove caught the flicker of humour in his eyes as he obliged silently. Dove lifted hers, caressing her hand through the back of Raine’s hair.

“I want to kiss you again.”

“I know, darling. You keep licking those lips of yours.”

“All the better to kiss you with, my dear.”

“Isn’t it eat? Are you quoting the Big Bad Wolf to me, right now, Miss?”

She laughed at his mock offence. “You are quite bad. Arguably quite big, too.”

Raine raised his eyebrows, but smirked at the joke.

She snickered bashfully, and leant towards him. Her heart was already beating hard. He kissed her softly, gripping her waist rather hard. Dove gripped his hair in return, earning one of his lovely sighs (just what she was after). Raine started moving her backwards, and she trusted he wouldn’t let her hurt her back against anything, as she blindly let herself go, kissing him more frantically. Something about the candlelight, and his mask, and his red clothes was making Dove almost feral. Hungry. Her back now found the desk she had sat on before, and immediately knew what his aim was here. She pulled herself up, now finding it easier to kiss him, as he quite literally towered over her. His hands were moving through her hair, and Dove was aware of their breathing getting more out of control. She moved her hips against him, tempting him, throwing the hint she prayed he caught. She wanted him to touch her everywhere. So, when his warm hands moved to her thighs, she let out a gasp at the touch. He smiled between the kiss, and she deepened it even more, moaning quietly as he stroked her legs, inching her slightly more backwards, so she rested against the wall comfortably.

“Is this okay?” His voice was deep and quiet.

“Mm. Yeah.” Of fucking course it is.

Dove began trailing her mouth along his neck. He groaned quietly when she bit him softly, tilting her head back up with his thumb, making sure her eyes were on him.

“I’ve thought about this, you know. What you’d sound like.”

Dove just panted in response, pupils blown, chest heaving. “I want you to show me now,” he whispered deliciously. Dove’s teeth were dug into her lip again, and she made a small noise of surprise as his hands suddenly went between her thighs. He watched as she squirmed, clutching tighter to him.

“Fuck, Raine,” she panted into him, as he continued to touch her. Her belly flipped, and her mind almost couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening right now. Unable to think of anything but him. She wanted his mouth on her neck. She wanted his breath down her ear again. She kissed him again, moaning between each one.

“Struggling to kiss me back, hm?”

“Fuck off..”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The sudden noise at the door made Dove freeze. Suddenly remembering where they were, she scrambled at Raine, pushing him away (I know, what the fuck).

“Shit. Who the fuck is that?” Dove hissed. Was it even locked????

But, Raine didn’t move. Pain shot through his face, and he didn’t take his eyes off her. It became rather unnerving as she saw the look in his eye. It was almost regret.

“Raine?” Dove scrunched her face up, trying to wipe the flush off. He was moving towards the door.

“Don’t answer it…Raine what are you doing?” She half whispered, half hissed.

But Raine wasn’t listening.

He headed towards the door, Dove’s brain imploding as his hand went for the handle. It was not locked, turns out. But this wasn’t the worst news. She could have smacked her forehead. Or smacked Raine. The person now standing in the doorway was the worst possible person out of the entire ball to appear. Or, the entire world.

Michael fucking Levany.

Dove could only stand there, gaping like a fish. Feeling like an absolute idiot. She was going to be murdered by her father. In front of Raine Lovell. She knew she looked frazzled too. Caught in the act. Fuck, it was hot in here. Stupid fucking corset. There was no escaping this. No exit.

“F-father,” she stuttered, stepping away from the stupid candlelight. She could see him clearly now. But, there was something wrong.

He was smiling at her.

“Father?” Dove couldn’t help but notice her voice. Notice how scared she sounded.

Dove cocked her head, eyes swizzling between him and Raine. But Raine wasn’t looking at her.

Micheal stepped out from the shadows, and into the room. He even closed the door behind them. Dove’s pulse was racing again. This time, it was from fear. Did he just lock them in?

“I’m so glad I found you, Dove. We couldn’t have you running off again, hm?”

“I was just going to find you…Ra,” her eyes darted to Raine, and she cleared her throat. “Raven and I were just..just catching up.” Dove fixed her eyes on the floor, too afraid to meet her father’s gaze now. She just wanted to get out, rip this dress off, go home, or go somewhere. Just anywhere else. Anywhere else but here.

“Raven, is it? I believe I know him. But not by that name.”

Dove snapped her head up. She was starting to feel cynical. What the hell was going on? Something was going on, wasn’t it? Oh, Circe’s blood.

Michael Levany stepped backwards into the darkness of the room. There was a question on Dove’s tongue, but it died down the second the shadows of where Michael was started changing. They had started to get larger. Moving into..into something else entirely. It was not her father who had walked into this room. It was not her father at all.

Fane Blackwood took a step out from the dull corner, and grinned his awfully big grin.

“Hello, little Dove.”

The only words that swam in her brain were; All the better to eat you with.