“This all seems safe,” Cyra said, munching as she crouched down to a low table holding a selection of cheeses. “Can you imagine if we had a dog? It would roam through here and make short work of all this.”
Hollace frowned at her then shook his head, strolling to a fondue stand on a large table in the corner. “This is swank. They really went all out.”
“He plays a great host.” I ignored the food as I looked over the sheet describing the layout of this collection of rooms. Austin stepped beside me, poring over it with me.
Each person would have their own quarters, the rooms mostly small, with a bed, a small table, and a chair with what looked like a reading light perched over it. I doubted the drawing was totally accurate, but it served its purpose. All of those were connected by a hallway, and they formed a sort of rough circle around a large room in the middle. Mine, apparently.
“Does it matter where we put people?” I asked Austin.
“I’ll check it out. There might be a rear exit that isn’t mentioned. If not, then the strongest go in the front as our first line of defense. Are you going to do one of those spells?”
I handed the paper off to him and grabbed up the spells. “I want to look at them first. Who knows what they actually do?”
The top popped on a can, and I knew Niamh had found a beer.
“Well, miss, it seems I must go the way of Edgar and ask that you retire me,” Mr. Tom said, standing in front of me with his head held high. “As your butler, I must own that I have failed you, and now I’ve been shown up by our biggest enemy. It is a bleak day, I can assure—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “Not now, Mr. Tom. I have enough to handle as it is.”
I took a deep breath and made my way to the largest room, although I grabbed a bacon-wrapped shrimp on the way. Some things were worth being poisoned over, and bacon was one of those things.
Once there, I sighed in utter defeat. Mr. Tom-level defeat.
A bed with a dark gray frame took up the middle of the space, pushed against a slate-gray wall. The bed faced a fireplace, which had to be either decorative or magical, with a TV mounted above it on a sort of column with rock facing, similar to the style of Austin’s house. A plush cream rug with cloud-gray squares etched through it covered the floor, and there was a seating area off to the side of the bed. An enormous gift basket wrapped in a red bow sat on the cloth-covered bench at the end of the bed.
Heart sinking, knowing this was going to be amazing, I gingerly sat beside the basket and pulled it closer. The first thing I spied was a blue box with Tiffany & Co. written across the front. Another with Gucci. A third with a name I didn’t recognize, all stacked on a bunch of other goodies.
“Damn him,” I murmured, my stomach fluttering despite my best efforts not to react.
I wouldn’t accept any of this. I couldn’t. He’d invaded my house, attacked my people, hired people to kidnap me, and killed my trainer. My friend.
He could not buy me things so I would forget. I would not forget.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t at least look, though. I was only human.
I pulled the cream-white ribbon from the blue Tiffany box and gently lifted the cover. Inside was a rose-gold cuff with a ring of diamonds on each end. In the middle sparkled an infinity sign, rendered in diamonds. A tiny square of paper lay within the hollow of the cuff, and on it read, You’ll be the only heir to live forever.
The breath left me, and I nearly threw the box and contents across the room. Instead, I lowered it to my lap and looked at it for a moment longer. It wasn’t just a costly gift—it was thoughtful, too. He’d seen one of my fears, somehow, and thought to settle it.
He was good.
I replaced the cover and set it aside, lifting the long Gucci box. This one proved to be a black clutch with a diamond insignia. The note read, In case you don’t have any high fashion for dinner. This will go with everything.
I had high fashion. Mr. Tom had insisted on it and also called me ridiculous for worrying about the price tags when I didn’t ever have to worry about money again. Old habits died hard.
An Apple box was next. I expected some sort of high-end electronic, but a glittering gold and diamond iPhone case stared up at me.
“I’d break this in a heartbeat,” I muttered, picking up the note inside and turning it over to read it: A ridiculous display of wealth. I’m guessing you’ll re-gift it to someone you have to impress. Like I did.