The Replacement: A Culling of Blood and Magic by K.M. Rives

Author:K.M. Rives [Rives, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

An angry grunt escaped her lips, as Emery threw the shoe from inside the closet. Who knew chucking shoes was an effective way to channel frustration? That particular shoe had been fueled by her anger at a certain vampire prince. The heel currently stuck in the drywall of the closet was the result of her feelings toward Jessi. She’d have to see about getting that fixed before anyone noticed.

Focused on the pile of shoes around her, she didn’t notice Dahlia’s presence in the doorway. “What are you doing, Miss Sloane?”

Emery startled, dropping the shoe she’d picked up. She didn’t have a good explanation for why she was sitting in the pile of shoes. She couldn’t tell her she initially yanked each pair out with increasing desperation to find her sister's hidden journals, then when she’d come up empty handed it had turned into a therapy session.

She hated that the lies were coming easier each time she was forced to tell one. “I couldn’t find my boots. I was planning to go down to the stables.”

Dahlia raised a brow. “You mean the boots that are by the door where you left them last week after going to the stables? You decided they were too dirty to keep in the closet.”

Shit.

“Oh yeah.” Emery stood picking up the shoes closest to her and replacing them in each of their cubbies. “I completely forgot I said that.”

How was she supposed to know what Sloane said that one time on a Tuesday a few weeks ago? This whole impersonating her sister was supposed to get easier, but each day brought new challenges she hadn’t considered.

Dahlia slid next to her and put the shoes back in their cubbies. Reaching behind them she pulled the heel out of the wall and raised a brow.

She shrugged and silently helped put the shoes in their designated spots.

When the floor of the closet was once again clear, Dahlia released a long heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry I made a mess of the closet.”

Dahlia pressed her lips into a line, her face contorting into expressions conveying a multitude of emotions before setting on wary determination. “May I speak candidly, Miss?”

“Always.”

“I have been Sloane’s lady’s maid since she was a little girl, we have shared many details of our lives with one another, and I considered her to be family.”

Emery stilled, taking notice of the way Dahlia spoke of Sloane in the past tense.

“She does not have a cut above her lip as you do, nor did she practice sarcasm with so little effort. Most of all, she was not kind unless it was earned. Growing up here hardened her in ways you’re not.” Dahlia placed her hands on Emery’s shoulders. “I know you’re not her, Emery. I assume she is dead, otherwise you would not be here.”

And there it was. She knew she wasn’t Sloane.

Emery remained silent, searching Dahlia’s eyes for any indication of her intentions now that her identity hung between them.

Dahlia sighed and tears rimmed her eyes. “It’s okay, child. I’m not going to tell anyone in the castle what I know.

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