Night's Honor
Page 21
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SIX
Drenched in sweat, she plunged awake, surrounded by darkness in a strange room. No. Her chest heaved. Malphas couldn’t have caught her so soon.
As she looked around wildly, reality asserted itself. The red illuminated numbers on the bedside clock read 3:16 A.M. She was in her new room at Xavier’s estate, her sheets damp with sweat. The room felt airless and hot as an oven.
Kicking off the covers, she climbed out of bed and felt for one of the vents close to the floor. Hot air blew out of it. She was going to cook if she didn’t get the heat turned down.
She slipped on her robe, left the room and searched for a thermostat. Lights shone from another part of the house. Very dimly, she could hear sound, perhaps music, either coming from another area in the house or perhaps from one of the other buildings, while the area around her bedroom was shadowed and quiet.
When she found the thermostat, the temperature had been set for seventy-two degrees, which was far too hot for her at night. After only a brief hesitation, she thumbed it down to sixty-five then reluctantly went back to her small, closed-in room.
She didn’t have to stay in the bedroom. No doubt the basement would be much cooler, but she knew if she went downstairs, she would run into someone again. She was tired of dealing with so many strangers and all the odd tensions from the day and evening, and she needed privacy badly.
Reluctantly, she closed the door, but that made the heat even worse.
Now that she was fully awake, she could hear the sounds more clearly. Music played from the direction of the main house. She walked over to the small sink to splash cold water on her face and arms as she fought an almost overwhelming desire to peek through her curtains.
That was against The Protocol.
But why was that The Protocol? Was it to keep hostile Vampyres from mesmerizing anyone inside the attendants’ house? If so, why couldn’t they open the windows and doors at daybreak, when all the Vampyres would be cloistered from the sun?
Raoul had been so urgent about getting her back to the house, and Marc had been very clear. They were to remain in seclusion and not show their faces outside until they were told otherwise.
Was that to keep them safe, or to keep others from seeing them? But why keep them hidden from view, even in the daytime? It wasn’t as if keeping a household of attendants was a secret practice.
Earlier she had felt like something was slightly off at the estate, and that feeling washed over her again. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. She didn’t know enough yet, but something didn’t add up, and wasn’t that typical—she had gone looking for a safe shelter and ended up in a place that felt full of hidden pitfalls and unexpected dangers.
And the temperature in her room was simply unbearable. A trickle of sweat slid between her shoulder blades.
She sidled over to one of her windows, not the one that faced toward the main house, but the other one that faced the cluster of pines bordering the top of the bluff.
How stupid would it be if she kept the curtains closed but cracked the window for a little fresh air, just long enough to cool down her room?
It might be pretty stupid. But she couldn’t make herself believe that anyone was paying attention to whether or not she cracked open a window. There was one hostile Vampyre in residence on the estate, with possibly two attendants, and they all had much better things to do than focus on this unobtrusive corner of the property. Besides, as concerned as Raoul had been, she was quite sure he was having Diego and the others watch their visitors closely.
Having talked herself into doing what she wanted to do anyway, she slipped her hands around the edge of the curtains and felt along the top of the window until she found the latch. She tried easing the window up, and it slid open quietly.
Cool, fresh air blew in around the edges of the curtain. Sighing in relief, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. Just a few minutes more and she would shut the window again. Nobody would ever know the difference.
Now she could hear the music more clearly. Were they using the ballroom? She didn’t dare open the curtains to look—she was stretching things as it was—but in her mind’s eye, she imagined Xavier, Justine and Melisande in that jewel of a room, elegant and deadly.
Why had Melisande and Justine come, and why had Xavier allowed it? What were they saying to each other?
When she heard voices, it took a few seconds for her to realize they weren’t in her imagination.
Where on earth were they coming from? While she didn’t move the curtains, she knew from memory there wasn’t anything outside the window except for a narrow strip of land with pines and shrubbery along the top of the bluff. Beyond that lay the beach.
Rolling onto her knees, she edged close to the open windowsill and strained to listen, and that was when she realized the voices came from the beach. By some trick of acoustics, the wind carried them up the bluff.
“. . . and I’m glad you came.” Xavier’s calm, quiet voice was quite distinctive.
A shiver ran along Tess’s skin. Just hearing his voice affected her profoundly in ways she didn’t understand.
“I’m glad I came too,” a woman said. Her voice was beautiful and melodious, and even though Tess was hearing it outside of a movie theatre, it still sounded familiar. “I love your place. It’s so lovely and peaceful here. Los Angeles is such a rat race.”
“You’re welcome to visit any time, Melly,” Xavier said. He sounded warm, even affectionate. The difference from how he had spoken with Tess was shocking. “We would love to have you come back. I’ve missed you.”
“Thank you. I’ve missed you too.”
A short silence followed. Were they hugging?
Oh lord, they weren’t kissing, were they?
Slowly and carefully, so that she didn’t make any noise that sharp Vampyre hearing might pick up, Tess leaned forward until her forehead connected with the wall. She wanted to bang her head repeatedly.
Please don’t let this be some sort of romantic assignation, she thought. I don’t want to hear that. I really, really don’t.
She started to realize how trapped she was. She couldn’t shut the window, because she wasn’t supposed to have it open to begin with, and no matter how quietly it might slide back into place, Xavier might hear it.
And, with the window open, the sound might carry too much if she moved around or tried to slip out of her room. After all, if she could hear them, they would definitely be able to hear her. Both the Vampyre and the Light Fae woman had senses that were so much sharper than hers.
Drenched in sweat, she plunged awake, surrounded by darkness in a strange room. No. Her chest heaved. Malphas couldn’t have caught her so soon.
As she looked around wildly, reality asserted itself. The red illuminated numbers on the bedside clock read 3:16 A.M. She was in her new room at Xavier’s estate, her sheets damp with sweat. The room felt airless and hot as an oven.
Kicking off the covers, she climbed out of bed and felt for one of the vents close to the floor. Hot air blew out of it. She was going to cook if she didn’t get the heat turned down.
She slipped on her robe, left the room and searched for a thermostat. Lights shone from another part of the house. Very dimly, she could hear sound, perhaps music, either coming from another area in the house or perhaps from one of the other buildings, while the area around her bedroom was shadowed and quiet.
When she found the thermostat, the temperature had been set for seventy-two degrees, which was far too hot for her at night. After only a brief hesitation, she thumbed it down to sixty-five then reluctantly went back to her small, closed-in room.
She didn’t have to stay in the bedroom. No doubt the basement would be much cooler, but she knew if she went downstairs, she would run into someone again. She was tired of dealing with so many strangers and all the odd tensions from the day and evening, and she needed privacy badly.
Reluctantly, she closed the door, but that made the heat even worse.
Now that she was fully awake, she could hear the sounds more clearly. Music played from the direction of the main house. She walked over to the small sink to splash cold water on her face and arms as she fought an almost overwhelming desire to peek through her curtains.
That was against The Protocol.
But why was that The Protocol? Was it to keep hostile Vampyres from mesmerizing anyone inside the attendants’ house? If so, why couldn’t they open the windows and doors at daybreak, when all the Vampyres would be cloistered from the sun?
Raoul had been so urgent about getting her back to the house, and Marc had been very clear. They were to remain in seclusion and not show their faces outside until they were told otherwise.
Was that to keep them safe, or to keep others from seeing them? But why keep them hidden from view, even in the daytime? It wasn’t as if keeping a household of attendants was a secret practice.
Earlier she had felt like something was slightly off at the estate, and that feeling washed over her again. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. She didn’t know enough yet, but something didn’t add up, and wasn’t that typical—she had gone looking for a safe shelter and ended up in a place that felt full of hidden pitfalls and unexpected dangers.
And the temperature in her room was simply unbearable. A trickle of sweat slid between her shoulder blades.
She sidled over to one of her windows, not the one that faced toward the main house, but the other one that faced the cluster of pines bordering the top of the bluff.
How stupid would it be if she kept the curtains closed but cracked the window for a little fresh air, just long enough to cool down her room?
It might be pretty stupid. But she couldn’t make herself believe that anyone was paying attention to whether or not she cracked open a window. There was one hostile Vampyre in residence on the estate, with possibly two attendants, and they all had much better things to do than focus on this unobtrusive corner of the property. Besides, as concerned as Raoul had been, she was quite sure he was having Diego and the others watch their visitors closely.
Having talked herself into doing what she wanted to do anyway, she slipped her hands around the edge of the curtains and felt along the top of the window until she found the latch. She tried easing the window up, and it slid open quietly.
Cool, fresh air blew in around the edges of the curtain. Sighing in relief, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor between the bed and the nightstand. Just a few minutes more and she would shut the window again. Nobody would ever know the difference.
Now she could hear the music more clearly. Were they using the ballroom? She didn’t dare open the curtains to look—she was stretching things as it was—but in her mind’s eye, she imagined Xavier, Justine and Melisande in that jewel of a room, elegant and deadly.
Why had Melisande and Justine come, and why had Xavier allowed it? What were they saying to each other?
When she heard voices, it took a few seconds for her to realize they weren’t in her imagination.
Where on earth were they coming from? While she didn’t move the curtains, she knew from memory there wasn’t anything outside the window except for a narrow strip of land with pines and shrubbery along the top of the bluff. Beyond that lay the beach.
Rolling onto her knees, she edged close to the open windowsill and strained to listen, and that was when she realized the voices came from the beach. By some trick of acoustics, the wind carried them up the bluff.
“. . . and I’m glad you came.” Xavier’s calm, quiet voice was quite distinctive.
A shiver ran along Tess’s skin. Just hearing his voice affected her profoundly in ways she didn’t understand.
“I’m glad I came too,” a woman said. Her voice was beautiful and melodious, and even though Tess was hearing it outside of a movie theatre, it still sounded familiar. “I love your place. It’s so lovely and peaceful here. Los Angeles is such a rat race.”
“You’re welcome to visit any time, Melly,” Xavier said. He sounded warm, even affectionate. The difference from how he had spoken with Tess was shocking. “We would love to have you come back. I’ve missed you.”
“Thank you. I’ve missed you too.”
A short silence followed. Were they hugging?
Oh lord, they weren’t kissing, were they?
Slowly and carefully, so that she didn’t make any noise that sharp Vampyre hearing might pick up, Tess leaned forward until her forehead connected with the wall. She wanted to bang her head repeatedly.
Please don’t let this be some sort of romantic assignation, she thought. I don’t want to hear that. I really, really don’t.
She started to realize how trapped she was. She couldn’t shut the window, because she wasn’t supposed to have it open to begin with, and no matter how quietly it might slide back into place, Xavier might hear it.
And, with the window open, the sound might carry too much if she moved around or tried to slip out of her room. After all, if she could hear them, they would definitely be able to hear her. Both the Vampyre and the Light Fae woman had senses that were so much sharper than hers.
