“I miss him too,” she says quietly. My eyes snap to her sad face. “I looked after him. I made sure he was safe and comfortable.”
Locked away in a dungeon.
“I went to him every day, since I started working here,” she continues. “I wish I could have done more.”
“You and me both,” I say to her just as quietly.
In an abrupt change of mood, which she must have learned from CK, she says brightly, “Coffee?”
“Err, yes, please. Black. Do you know where Cade is?” I ask her.
“Yes, he and Mr. Abazia are training on the field,” she replies, handing me a big, delicious smelling mug.
Mr. Abazia? Who the fuck? Oh, Nico. I think that is only the second time I have ever heard his surname.
“Oh, thank you,” I say and pick up my papers to head towards the library.
Who should be lurking around though, but the gorgeous Ramon. He is leaning casually against the wall outside the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his tight jeans.
I appraise him as he smiles seductively at me and says in Italian, “Can I please you?”
Hm, bold when his master isn’t knocking about. I return his smile but shake my head replying in Italian to him, “No thank you.”
“You should feed,” he says, pushing away from the wall. “I am happy to oblige.”
Oh, well, who the heck am I to argue with that?
“Maybe just a quick bite,” I say, snapping my fangs down.
He chuckles and pulls me to the big table in the Entrance Hall. He picks me up and sits me down. Gee, eager much?
He stands close to me, putting his arms around me. I sink my fangs into his delicious neck and suckle slowly, driving him crazy in the process. I release the bite and swipe my tongue quickly over the wounds to help heal them and retract my fangs. “Thank you,” I say.
“What, no kiss this time?” he says, bringing his mouth to mine and pushing his tongue into my mouth.
Oh ho!
I enjoy it for a few more seconds than I should but then push him away gently.
“I am here to please you,” he whispers. “That is my only job.”
“I am sure that Mr. D’Arcangelo has changed your job description since last year.”
He chuckles again. “You should ask him.” He chucks me under the chin in an overly familiar gesture. “I will come and find you later. Mr. D’Arcangelo has been very specific that you feed regularly while you are here.”
Humph, I’m sure. The man has the stamina of ten thousand men, and so wants me to be able to keep up, no doubt. I nod briskly and alight gracefully from the table. I head back towards the library. Again, I wonder where everyone is. It can’t just be us. This place is too well-kept to be handled by just Marguerite. I close my eyes and bring up the mental map and I see the rest of the staff dotted about. They are clearly here but obviously asked to stay out of the way. Curious. Anyway, I shrug and halfway to the library, I change my mind. This Lance thing being raised again is churning me up inside. Especially the whole fake life we had together in my dreams. I remember when he tried to take me to the tower room, calling it our bedroom and I shudder. I have a massive phobia, with good reason, of tower rooms. In fact, circular rooms in general freak me out. I am a big advocate of corners. However, a great leader shouldn’t have fears and I am going to conquer mine, right now. I set my mouth in a grim line and head straight for the nearest tower, which is the top left one. The place has four and I have never been in any of them. Not even before Lance, as they were always occupied, being the best guest rooms in the castle. Tucking my papers under my arm, I push open the heavy, studded wooden door and walk into the tower. A frisson of fear goes down my spine, but I square my shoulders and off I go, taking the stone steps one at a time, with both feet planted in case I change my mind and turn to run. Sometime later as there are quite a few steps, I reach the top and hesitate only for a second to push open the same style heavy wooden door to the turret bedroom. I hover on the threshold, staring into a room that is quite lovely. I note it has been modernized but some time ago. Clearly, it got left for some reason after the last renovation, which near as I can tell was only a few years ago.
I step inside and close the door, leaning against it, breathing rapidly. I can bust my way out of this room in a second. Just keep remembering that, I tell myself over and over. I half expect the Lance impersonator to show up and taunt me, so I move quickly to the window seat to place down the mug and papers, so my hands are free. I relax a smidge as nothing turns up, so I take in the room a bit more. A feminine room, all whites and pastels, a bit of floral here and there. So not my style. Not CK’s either, but I assume that someone who stayed here decorated it this way, to my annoyance.
But my jealousy doesn’t stop me from sitting on the padded window seat, as I am going to assume, rightly or wrongly, that I am invading Marguerite’s bedroom. It’s safer that way.
I lean against the stone wall and stare out at the view. Absolutely stunning as always, positively hundreds of miles. I sigh in contentment but, still a bit wary, I pick up the pages and start to read. I, myself, am a proficient speed-reader but not up to CK’s standards. I read all ten pages thoroughly and I am dumbfounded. I reread it again and again. I could tell you every word from the first sitting, what with my photographic memory and all, but sometimes it is easier to glean more information to have it in front of you in print.
“Pretty shocking, isn’t it?” Cade says from the doorway. “I have gathered this Tiamat woman is your mother. Please never introduce me to her. She sounds terrifying.”
I snort. “Indeed. And it’s ‘Her’, with a capital.” He looks at me quizzically. I just shrug and add, “How did you find me here?”
“Sixth sense,” he says mysteriously, to which I query with raised brows.