“My life, my responsibility,” I shout over them both. “We are getting off track here. Her idea was to get me on trial. You said I wouldn’t survive that,” I point out to my husband.
“You won’t,” he states flatly. “You don’t go anywhere on your own. Time to go.” He takes Thia back and Teleports off, leaving the rest of us to follow him.
I huff at him because he tells me not to go anywhere alone, but then leaves me. Frederick was right about him. “Let’s go,” I say with a frown and stalk off to find where everyone disappeared to.
Ten minutes later we are all back at Ponte and off doing our own thing, each of us lost in thoughts about what has just happened and how we move forward from this. It strikes me suddenly that I should go and clean up Thia’s room. CK won’t have bothered to do it, he will no doubt have just moved her room elsewhere. I head to the kitchen for the cleaning stuff-which, okay, I’ll admit, takes me more than five minutes to find-and then the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I skid to a halt when I find Marguerite already in there, scrubbing up her own blood like there’s no tomorrow.
“I’ll do it,” I say gent
ly, taking her by the elbow.
“No,” she says, forcefully pulling her arm back so that she can continue scrubbing. “I need to do this.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, chewing my lip. I can see her torn panties sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans and my heart lurches.
“Yes,” she says, not once slowing down her actions. She speeds up, using every ounce of her Vampire speed and strength to get the mess cleaned up as quickly, and as thoroughly, as possible.
“Marguerite, you should talk about what happened. If not to me, then someone. Do you have a close friend?” I venture.
“No, my life is here,” she replies, not breaking her stride. “And I am fine.” She sits back on her heels and blows her fringe off her face. “All done.”
I glance down and it is definitely clean. “Out of sight, out of mind,” I mutter.
“Precisely. We will speak no more of this.” She gives me a tight smile and adjusts the filmy scarf around her neck.
“I really think...”
“Doesn’t matter,” she says with a shrug. “It happened and now it is over. You said he is dead, so what is there left?”
“Your feelings,” I point out. “Don’t bottle it up.”
“Pardon my saying, but I am not you. I don’t need to go over what happened endlessly until I find sense in what happened to me. It’s done.” With that, she gathers up the cloth, scrubbing brush and bleach and throws it into the bucket of bloody water. I take only a little offense at her words, twisting my lips as she stands up.
“You think that’s what I do?” I ask.
“You look like the type,” she says with a twisted smile of her own. “I apologize, Aefre, I meant no offense.”
“No, it’s okay. You are off the hook,” I stammer, not knowing where to go from here. She clearly doesn’t want any help, but I know deep down she needs it. How could she not after what happened to her?
She lifts the bucket and with another tight smile, she saunters off as if nothing ever happened in here.
I sigh and lean on the mop handle. I can’t pressure her into talking, just be here if she ever wants to. I kick the bucket out of the room and prop it up against the wall.
I want to see Delinda, so I shout out for Dracul at the same time that I run down the stairs to go to the library. I run into Remiel and grab his hand, needing him to come with me. If anyone can convince him to give our daughter back, it’s her father.
“Dracul!” I shout again and nearly bump into him as I run headlong into the library.
“Aefre,” he says, giving me a curious look. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” I weep. “I want Delinda back.”
Dracul purses his lips and looks down at me in pity. “I am sorry, Aefre, but I cannot give her back to you. Not when things are still so volatile.”
“Things are fine,” I lie, shoving my hands into my pants pockets. It is only now that I remember, that my blouse is still all torn and bloody from rescuing Marguerite. I grimace and rue the loss of my Dragon Powers.
He glances at me and then at the destruction that still befalls the castle. He wanders over to the French windows and gazes out at the gory pile seen in the distance by the gates.