Chapter 8 - Leaving the Sanctuary
To leave the Manor, Victoria had to sever the physical tether that bound her to the obsidian desk. Back in the library, she opened the iron-clasped register to the very first page—her own contract. With a steady hand, she used the scalpel-tip of her stylus to slice a clean line across her own thumb, pressing her blood against the binding.
"Temporary furlough," she spoke to the empty room. "In pursuit of a delinquent account. Authorization: Actuary Prime."
The house groaned in response, a mournful vibration that rattled the windowpanes. Suddenly, the crushing, freezing pressure that always surrounded Victoria lifted. For the first time in over a century, she felt the natural chill of the ordinary world. She picked up a smaller, pocket-sized ledger bound in black dragon-scale leather and slipped it into her coat.
In the foyer, Elena threw open the heavy oak doors. Outside, the supernatural gale had transitioned into a mundane, torrential autumn rainstorm. A sleek, black armored SUV sat idling in the gravel driveway, its headlights cutting through the dark.
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"My driver can get us to a private airstrip in twenty minutes," Elena said, holding an umbrella over Victoria as they stepped out onto the gravel. "We can be in Manhattan by midnight."
Victoria paused on the top step, looking back at the imposing, dark silhouette of Blackwood Manor. It looked smaller from the outside, almost fragile against the modern storm. She turned her face toward the rain, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of water droplets on her cheek. "Let us go, Miss Sterling. Your father has an exorbitant debt to pay, and I despise calculating late fees."
