Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (44 page)

   She notices the four women wearing the blue silk dresses are looking at each other with knowing smiles of self-approval. One of them sees her staring and acts scared as she forces her forehead back to the patio in an apologetic reverence. Her three friends immediately follow her lead and do the same.

   “Hmm,” Julianna contemplates her feelings about such things, “That's what I mean. Too addictive.”

   One of the four women snickers.

   “You!”, the butler wearing black yells out, “Look at me!”

   Julianna watches the woman on the left side of the entryway – nearest to the male basket holder – raise her head from the stone. Her eyes are full of terror. Her lips tremble as she looks into the butler's fierce stare.

   “You are not worthy to be in our Mother's presence,” the man verbally attacks, “You are an embarrassment and have brought shame to us all.”

   “Whoa, dude,” Julianna objects, “Calm down. It's not that serious.”

   “It
is
that serious,” Martha quietly explains from Julianna's right side.

   “Okay everyone,” Julianna's tone loses its patience, “Hold on a minute.”

   She points towards the entryway while glaring at the scorning butler, “Who
exactly
lives here?”

   “This house belongs to the Mother of Darkwaters,” the large man answers with a gentle, but firm tone.

   “And who am I?”, Julianna slides her second chess piece across the board. The man glances at Martha.

   “Don't look at her,” Julianna takes her turn at raising her voice.

   The man locks stares with the girl addressing him.

   “Answer my question,” Julianna ignores his daring eyes.

   “You are,” the man responds.

   “Then by your own words,” Julianna moves her final piece to place the man in checkmate, “This house belongs to
me
.”

   “Yes, Mother.”

   Julianna glances down at the teary woman riddled with fear.

   “You,” Julianna speaks softly to the blond woman, “Please stand up.”

   The woman stands. Julianna's heart sinks as she witnesses the dancer's arms trembling from her recent chastisement.

   “What is your name?”, Julianna politely asks.

   “Amelia Daxton,” answers with a shaky voice.

   “Do you work here?”

   “Yes, Mother.”

   Julianna glances around to all of the other people kneeling.

   “Do all of you work here?”, Julianna speaks loudly enough to be heard by every ear. She observes mass nodding coming from each person. Some stare at the patio while others look nervously at her. Her left brow lifts slightly as she turns her attention back to Amelia.

   “Why were you laughing?”, Julianna questions the woman as though she were talking to a friend of a many years. Amelia briefly looks at the butler wearing black.

  
Dammit.

   “Okay,” Julianna speaks loudly again, “Everyone listen up. I'm only going to say this once. When I ask you a question, you do not look to someone else for an answer or for permission.”

   Julianna observes another wave of nods via their bowing heads.

   “And you look at me. Do you all understand?”

   For the first time since her arrival, Julianna sees everyone's face looking at her. She smiles with approval.

   “Much better,” Julianna verbally praises their efforts. She turns her gaze toward Amelia's blue eyes. To her surprise, the woman begins crying, drops to her knees, and begins kissing Julianna's bare feet.

   “I-I'm so sorry, Mother.”

  
What the fu..?!

   Julianna steps back; although, her initial response is to kick the woman in the face. She works quickly to regain her composure. Her words are gentle, yet authoritative.

    “Stand up, Amelia. Answer the question. Don't lie to me.”

   The woman pushes herself back up. She glances down to Julianna's fingers, “I...”

   “Stop,” Julianna interrupts, “We are going to stand here all day until we get this right.” She reaches out to lift the woman's chin. Amelia flinches.

  
Geezus. What is going on around here?

   Amelia forces her eyes upward as she feels Julianna's hand immediately retreat from her chin. The Mother is looking at her with kind eyes.

   “Could you
please
tell me why you were laughing?”, Julianna changes tactics with the nervous woman. Amelia nods. Julianna can tell it is taking every ounce of energy the woman has within her to keep her eyes locked with Julianna's stare. She patiently awaits the woman's words.

   Amelia answers, “I laughed because I thought you were funny.”

   Julianna grins, “I know. But it's nice to hear it sometimes. Thank you for being honest.”

   Julianna glances around to make sure all eyes are still upon her. She speaks to the small crowd.

   “I am very aware of tradition and how important that is for some of you. This is all new to me. As is my being here is to you. I'm not here to upset your lives or to destroy your traditions and beliefs.”

    “With that being said,” Julianna grins at her grams, “If you people think that I'm going to sit in my car for thirty minutes while you throw flowers and kiss my patio, you can forget it.”

   Martha laughs. The joy of watching her baby granddaughter speaking to her new household is thrilling. Julianna doesn't hide her personality from anyone. Not even strangers. Martha's brief outburst, however, doesn't interfere with her granddaughter's speech. In fact, Martha can feel the ambiance changing around her. It's as though Julianna's words are filled with some kind of unseen power. Not the kind of power one would assume from a fictitious story about a witch’s wand, but power which is real. It feels thick and heavy within the atmospheric tone her granddaughter is setting with each forthcoming word she speaks.

   “Amelia,” Julianna addresses the woman with certainty and strength, “Tell me why you flinched whenever I reached out to you.”

   “Th-that's what happens to a subordinate, Mother,” Amelia stammers.

   Julianna places her left hand on her hip while her right foot points outward. She thinks she understands the situation, but would rather hear it spoken first. She pushes for more information.

   “What happens, Amelia?”

   “If a subordinate steps out of line, they are punished,” Amelia explains her fear.

   “Punished,” Julianna desires elaboration on the term.

   “Yes, Mother,” Amelia continues, “Chained and beaten.”

   Martha's right hand covers her gaping mouth. She had no idea there was this kind of abuse occurring within these walls. She nearly faints whenever her granddaughter speaks again.

   “Tell me, Amelia,” Julianna commands lovingly, “Do you like it?”

   “Excuse me?”, the woman isn't sure how to respond to such a statement.

   Julianna speaks slowly and clearly, “Do you enjoy being hurt like that?”

   “N-no, Mother,” Amelia clarifies. Her eyes fill with water and her lips begin to tremble once more. She breaks down as Julianna steps towards her and reaches out with her hands. 

   Julianna gently cups the woman's cheeks with both hands. She uses both of her thumbs to wipe away Amelia's tears. Leaning in, Julianna gently kisses the frightened woman's forehead. She, then, wraps her arms tightly around Amelia. The woman begins sobbing loudly.

   “Never again,” Julianna quietly speaks in the woman's right ear.

   Martha wipes the water from her own face. She glances around and notices how all of the other women are doing the same. Even the two men wearing white butler uniforms are having trouble hiding their obvious gratitude.

   “Go sit down,” Julianna whispers while her right hand pats the woman's back. Amelia nods and obeys by finding a seat on the first stair of the stone patio.

   After Julianna watches Amelia take her seat, she spins around and stares coldly at the butler wearing black.

   “I was not here for those things already done,” Julianna's anger is apparent within her tone, “But I'm here now. And I don't believe for one second that a woman should be harmed against her will.”

   Julianna waves her hands towards the men wearing white, “Or for a man as far as that goes.”

   Julianna puts both hands on her hips, “These practices are not acceptable in
my
household. And I will
not
allow it.”

   “If anyone tries to go against me on this,” Julianna's dark tone causes the man to unconsciously sway backwards, “Then they have broken the law of interfering with my free will.”

   Julianna steps forward until she is looking straight up at the six-foot four-inch man's chin. She dares him with her green eyes, “Can you tell me what the punishment is for
that
?”

   Julianna steps back to give the man his space again.

   “The punishment is death,” the man confirms his understanding of her meaningful threat.

   Julianna lowers her volume, but not her authority, “Make sure everyone understands. Will ya?” Her following smile causes cold chills to rush up the man's spine.

   “Yes, Mother,” the man confirms, “It will be done.”

   Julianna turns her back to the man with no fear of what he could or could not do to her. She owns him and she knows it.

   “The rest of you,” she speaks gently, “Please stand up.”

   Julianna is oblivious to the fact her voice is filled with immense power as she speaks. She is only speaking on how she views these sorts of things. She watches as her workforce obeys her command.

    She points towards Amelia, “I will not allow you to hurt each other like this.”

   “If you do...”, Julianna leaves the rest unspoken. She pauses to change her thought.

   “Anyway,” Julianna continues, “I have met Lilith. I know her intention. I assure you, she would not approve of this. And I don't approve. This
is
my place. I will not have it.”

   “I do understand how some of you may feel the need to be all reverent and such whenever I'm around,” Julianna points out her observation, “But do not treat me like that self-righteous woman, Mother Teresa. I promise all of you, I am
not
her.”

   “I will be as fair as I can be,” Julianna moves her conversation onward, “But don't ever mistake my kindness for weakness.” Julianna makes a point to briefly look at the butler wearing black before returning her green watchful eyes upon the other faces around her.

   “It's not my place to keep you from your faith and worship,” Julianna's demeanor softens, “But let's try not to spoil me, too much. Okay?” Her forthcoming smile spreads across the stunned faces. Even the recently scolded butler, wearing black, smiles.

   Julianna feels a vibration in her jean's pocket. She reaches in and pulls out her phone. Touching the screen, she grins.

   “Well,” Julianna announces, “I'm going to have to take a rain check on scoping out the new crib.”

  Martha has a sudden urge to walk over and slap her granddaughter across the face. Just when she begins to sound like the Mother of Darkwaters, Julia uses a word like
crib
.

   “What's the matter, dear?”, Martha questions. Julianna walks over and whispers in her ear.

   “It was nice meeting everyone again,” Martha says her good-byes, “But something's come up which needs our immediate attention. I hope you all understand.”

   Julianna still takes the time to hug everyone and get their names – including the butler in black.

   Julianna pulls her car door closed. Martha does the same.

   “Is he cute?”, Martha questions excitedly.

   “Oh - he's gorgeous.”

   “Well, let's get you back then,” Martha points towards the driveway, “We don't want you to be late for your first date.”

   Matt stands nervously in anticipation. His six-foot one built frame makes him feel small in comparison to the taller Frank Dermott. He is thankful that the older man has decided to sit in the recliner. However, the man's cold-shoulder treatment while reading his newspaper might be a tad worse.

   “You know,” Frank speaks while his eyes remain fixated upon the paper in front of him, “Julianna is my
only
granddaughter.”

   Matt Reins swallows nervously.

   “Do you understand my meaning, son?”

   “Yes, sir,” Matt answers bravely.

   “Oh - Frank,” Martha interrupts as she walks into the room just in time, “Don't you dare scare that poor boy like that.”

   “I'm not. Matt and I were just discussing guy stuff.” Frank lowers his paper to catch Matt's eyes, “Weren't we, Matt?”

   Matt quickly clears his throat, “Yes, sir.”

   Martha rolls her eyes for Matt's benefit.

   “Don't you worry about him. He did this with Julia's mother, too.”

   Matt attempts an uncomfortable feeling smile.

   “She'll be here, shortly,” Martha explains.

   “Thank you, ma'am,” Matt answers.

   “Your manners remind me of someone else when he was your age. But now he's just full of all sorts of meanness. I just don't know what happened to that sweet boy.”

   “That's your fault, woman,” Frank playfully pokes back while staring at his newspaper.

   Martha starts her retort, but stops herself when she notices a stunned look taking over Matt's facial expression. She smiles. The woman turns to face the staircase leading up to the second floor of her house. With her outstretched hands, she presents her handy work.

   “And there she is,” Martha announces proudly.

   Julianna holds onto the railing with her right hand as she starts down the stairs. Her blue Jimmie Choo shoes extend her height by three inches. But the Willis Snake Half d'Orsay Pump design is really hard to get accustomed to. She feels as if she's getting ready to launch herself into a foot race at the Olympics. On the other hand, she's really thankful she even has them at all.

   She couldn't believe how fast Devia responded to her order. Granted, not everything is at the house yet. But anything Devia had in her store is now in Julianna's possession. The saleswoman works wonders.  Had Julianna thought about it, however, she would have tried on the shoes first; or at least, considered their shape a little more carefully.