Isadora turns her bright, sharp, predator gaze on me. “That’s a beautiful pendant.”
“I bought it at a flea market. Would you like to touch it?”
A strange expression, almost fear, crosses her eyes. “My parents are dying to meet you. They’re not staying long so perhaps I should take you to meet them first, and then you can mingle and dance or whatever.”
I look up at Rocco.
“Yes, let’s get the introductions over with,” he says tightly.
We follow her shimmering body through the crowd. I notice them part to make room for us. I can feel that I am different than them. I am the outsider. Isadora stops in front of a tall couple. I cannot see either of their faces, because they are both wearing full-face masks, but the woman has a very shapely body, the kind of body a woman in her twenties would have. Even the skin on her hands are very smooth. Her enormous and magnificent blue eyes glitter with some great emotion. I cannot tell what.
The man is the exact opposite. His hands are wrinkled and marked with liver spots, but the most startling thing about him are his eyes. They are smokier, darker, and dear God, more, much more dangerous. There is something blank and crazy about them. Some unfathomable madness that grips my soul and makes the hackles at the back of my neck rise.
Rocco slips his hand around my waist. I realize it is a gesture of both reassurance and possession. The tension in the air can be cut with a knife.
“Autumn, meet my parents. Junia and Cicero Rossetti. Mom and Dad, meet Autumn Delaney.”
“I approve. She is beautiful, Rocco,” the woman says.
Rocco says nothing.
“It’s a pleasure to welcome you into our family, my dear,” his father says politely, but his voice is cold and emotionless.
First of all, things are moving too fast for me. Why on earth would he be welcoming me into the family when Rocco and I are only in the early stages of our relationship? Then I notice something even more strange: neither of them has extended a hand out to me. In fact, the woman, I find it impossible to think of her as Rocco’s mother, carefully maintains a cautious distance from me.
“What a shame that we have to leave now, but it’s good that we got to meet,” she says. I notice her gaze on my talisman, but she does not comment on it.
Her hand rises, cuts the air, then lands as gently as a butterfly on her husband’s sleeve. I’m mesmerized by her strange movement. I stare at her hand in fascination. Her skin is very pale against the black material of the sleeve, and her nails are long and painted in a beautiful, opaque coral polish. When I lift my gaze, I see he has turned to look at her. A look passes between them, secret, and full of meaning.
“Yes, we are already late for our next engagement,” he says in that emotionless voice of his.
“No doubt we’ll meet again. Perhaps you can come over for dinner,” the woman says to me.
Again that sense of revulsion runs like poison in my veins. “Maybe.”
She turns to her son. “Goodbye, Rocco.”
Rocco says nothing.
“I’ll walk you out,” Isadora says quickly.
The mother steps backwards, then her husband does the same, then the three of them quickly walk away.
Chapter 39
Autumn
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoZJdil0_HI&list=PLRU2kFDUg_RLmd-GsT1v4zzYpW1TlRw5g
For a few seconds I can only stare astonished at the blank space that was once occupied by them, then I turn my head and look at Rocco. His face is taut, and the skin around his mouth is very white, making his lips look redder than usual.
“Were those people really your parents?”
He nods.
“That was the strangest encounter I’ve ever had. I got the distinct impression they did not like me.”
“Don’t take it personally, that is how they behave towards anybody that is outside their… circle.”
I notice the slight pause before circle. “Why did they want to meet me while they were masked?”
He sighs. “Because they didn’t want you to see their faces yet.”
I shake my head, a frown on my forehead. “Why not?”
“They have their reasons.”
“I know. You’ll explain later, right?”
He nods. “Yes, I will. Would you like to dance?”
It is only then I hear again the classical music playing in the background. “To this music?”
He smiles slightly. “Yes, it’s a waltz.”
“I can’t waltz,” I confess.
“Just follow my lead.”
“No thanks. I’m not going to go out there and make a complete fool of myself,” I mutter.
“Do you really care what any of these people think of you?”
I look around and once again notice that many of them are actually surreptitiously watching us, actually not us, but me. I meet Rocco’s eyes. “Why is everyone staring at me?”
“Because they are curious about you,” he replies.
I nod. “I need to use the restroom, but when I come back you’re going to teach me to waltz.”