A Scandal By Any Other Name

The sun finally set completely. The sky turned a deep, dark purple, and then a heavy black.

The house servants moved through the halls, lighting the candles in the wall sconces.

It was already evening. The quiet, dull ringing of the dinner bell echoed up the staircase.

Delaney stood up from her chair. She walked over to her small washbasin, poured a little cold water from the pitcher, and washed her face. She smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. She prepared her mind for a quiet, tense dinner with her aunt Eunice and her cruel cousin.

She unlocked her door and stepped out into the hallway.

The house was quiet, but it was a heavy, suffocating kind of quiet. She walked slowly down the sweeping marble staircase. The candlelight flickered against the walls, creating long, dancing shadows.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the grand foyer, intending to cross the hall and enter the dining room.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Standing in the very middle of the grand foyer was Lucas.

But he was not wearing his expensive, perfectly tailored dark blue coat anymore. He was standing there only in his white linen shirtsleeves and his dark trousers.

And he was covered in blood.

Thick, dark red stains soaked the entire front of his crisp white shirt. The blood was fresh. It was smeared across his hands, staining his knuckles and slipping beneath his fingernails.

He was also injured in his arms.

A small streak of red marked his pale cheek. The sharp, heavy, metallic smell of fresh blood hung thickly in the air of the foyer.

Delaney’s heart stopped. A cold, absolute terror gripped her stomach. Her mind screamed at her to run, to flee back up the stairs and lock her door forever.

But years of surviving his psychological torture kept her feet firmly planted on the marble floor. She forced her facial muscles to freeze. She completely detached herself from the horror standing before her.

She just stared at him blankly.

Lucas looked down at his ruined, bloody shirt. Then, he looked up at her.

He smiled.

It was a wide, sick, completely terrifying smile. It was the smile of a predator who had just finished a brutal hunt and wanted to show off his prize.

"Delaney," Lucas said. His voice was light, cheerful, and incredibly twisted. "You must see this."

He raised his bloody right hand and pointed a finger towards the front doors of the manor.

Delaney did not look at the doors. She did not want to play his sick, twisted games. She knew that whatever was outside those doors was meant to break her spirit completely.

She kept her face entirely neutral. She looked straight ahead, focusing her eyes on the entrance to the dining room across the hall.

She stepped forward. She walked calmly past him, intending to enter the dining room as if he were completely invisible. She acted as if the blood soaking his clothes was nothing more than spilled wine from a clumsy servant.

As she walked past him, Lucas moved.

He reached out with lightning speed. He grabbed her hand.

His grip was incredibly strong, tight, and completely unforgiving. The wet, sticky blood on his palm smeared directly against her bare skin.

Delaney gasped slightly at the sudden, painful contact, but she quickly shut her mouth.

Lucas’s cheerful smile completely disappeared in an instant. His face turned hard, cold, and utterly deadly. The playful tone vanished from his voice.

His voice became incredibly deep and deeply serious.

"You must certainly see this," Lucas commanded.

He did not let her go. He tightened his bloody grip on her hand and pulled her hard.

"Let go of me," Delaney said softly, trying to pull her arm back.

Lucas ignored her completely. He dragged her roughly across the polished marble floor. Delaney stumbled slightly, her soft shoes sliding on the smooth stone, but she caught her balance. He pulled her with sheer, brutal force toward the front entrance of the house.

He reached the doors. Still holding her tightly with his right hand, he used his left hand to grab the heavy brass knob.

He turned the knob and pulled the massive front door wide open.

The cold, biting night wind immediately blew into the warm foyer. It whipped Delaney’s dark hair around her face. The darkness outside was thick and heavy.

Lucas dragged her forward, pulling her forcefully out onto the top of the stone front steps.

"Look," Lucas ordered, pointing downward.

Delaney looked down at the stone steps.

Her breath completely left her body. The carefully constructed wall around her emotions completely shattered into a million pieces.

Lying there on the cold, hard stone was a dead body.

The man was a large, heavily built figure. He was dressed entirely in thick, dark black clothing—the kind of clothing a man wears when he needs to blend perfectly into the shadows of the woods at night. He was lying on his back, his arms thrown out to the sides in a lifeless sprawl. A large pool of dark, thick blood spread out from beneath his head, staining the pale gray stone steps.

Delaney stared at the body in absolute, paralyzing horror. Her chest heaved as she struggled to pull air into her lungs.

She looked at the man’s face, but there was nothing to see. She couldn’t see the face because it was completely, brutally bashed in. The features were entirely destroyed, ruined beyond any human recognition by repeated, incredibly violent blows.

It was a gruesome, horrific sight. It was the work of a complete monster.

Lucas stood beside her, still holding her hand, watching the sheer terror finally break through her blank expression. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh.

Delaney could not look away from the ruined body. Even though the face was destroyed, she looked at the large build of the man. She looked at the dark black coat and the practical leather boots. She looked at the way the man’s large hands rested lifelessly on the stone.

And then, she knew.

A cold, sickening realization washed over her entire soul, freezing the blood in her veins.

She knew exactly who it was.

It was Odis.

It was the quiet loyal guard Rowan had stationed secretly in the tree line. It was the man who was supposed to watch the perimeter. It was the man sent to protect Delaney from the outside.

Odis was dead.