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.
Easing down to the floor, she sat with her knees up and her back to the wall, and put her head in her hands.
“I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper earlier,” Melisande said. “And in front of the whole Nightkind council too.”
“Well, Julian shouldn’t have lost his temper either,” Xavier replied. “The most important thing is that you both move on from it.”
“He’s always been inflexible, but I don’t remember him being so scathing.” The Light Fae woman sounded utterly miserable. “Or at least he wasn’t when we were together, until the very end. He always believed I cheated on him, but I didn’t.”
In the darkened bedroom, Tess started to chew on a fingernail. This wasn’t a romantic assignation at all, but listening to them felt just as uncomfortable. She really hated that a part of her had perked up and gotten curious.
“I’ve always been sorry that things ended between you the way they did,” Xavier said. “You were good for him.”
“Was I? Thank you for saying that, but he would probably disagree with you.”
“Julian and I don’t always agree with each other. You lightened him up, and he laughed. He doesn’t laugh anymore.”
There was another pause, and when Melisande spoke next, she sounded very sober. “He’s in real trouble, isn’t he?”
“Things have gotten tense over the last year, especially since he’s broken from Carling.”
Who’s Carling? Tess wondered. Was she another ex? Julian, you dog.
Melisande asked, “Can’t they repair their relationship, now that Carling has found some way to heal herself? She is better now, isn’t she? While she might be retired from the Elder tribunal, she’s still Julian’s sire.”
Tess finished biting off one fingernail and started on another. She didn’t know many details about Elder politics, but she did remember the high points that had hit the major news channels.
The previous summer had been full of upheaval for several of the Elder demesnes. The Lord of the Wyr had taken a mate, the Dark Fae King had been killed, and Julian had banished one of the original founders of the Nightkind demesne. From what Xavier and Melisande were discussing, it sounded like that might have been Carling.
“Whether or not Julian and Carling can mend fences remains to be seen,” Xavier replied.
Melisande laughed softly. “You’re always the soul of discretion. You have this knack for saying things without really saying anything. I can tell things are strained between Julian and the Nightkind council, and I know you weren’t happy with the thought of playing host to Justine tonight. I apologize for creating the situation.”
“Don’t worry about it, Melly. You weren’t the only one responsible for what happened, and even if you were, it was worth it to get the pleasure of your company for one night. Besides, I can handle Justine.”
He sounded so unruffled, so confident. Tess remembered what Marc had said.
Justine is dangerous, but Xavier is too.
Either the cool night air or her own thoughts caused her to shiver. She reached up to grope along the surface of the bed for her throw. When her fingers encountered the soft chenille material, she pulled it toward her.
The throw slid off the bed and brought one of the pillows along with it. The pillow hit the nightstand and knocked into her water glass and the alarm clock. Both items hit the hardwood floor with a loud clatter.
Tess froze and broke into a light sweat. She
didn’t dare even breathe.
So, okay. That happened.
Maybe they wouldn’t notice. They were closer to the water, and things must sound quite different on the beach.
Melisande said, “What was that?”
“Nothing important, I’m sure,” Xavier said. He sounded almost bored. “Let’s head back to the house before Justine comes looking for us. We can open a bottle of Chateau Briot. Tell me, are you going to New York for the Sentinel Games?”
“Those Games are the Elder Races event of the century. I wouldn’t miss them for the world. Are you going?”
“I hadn’t committed yet, but I’ve just made up my mind to go.”
“We must get together while we’re there. I’m leaving in a week.”
Still talking, they moved away until Tess couldn’t hear them anymore.
She couldn’t bear to leave the window open any longer. Kneeling, she eased the window shut and groped for the alarm clock and the glass to set them on the nightstand again. A large puddle of water had sprayed over the floor.
Tess, she thought, you might be geek-smart, but you are not as bright as you claim to be. Try to get smarter before you die.
Tossing the pillow and the throw onto the bed, she eased over to the bedroom door. Earlier, she had noticed a linen closet down the hall that held plenty of extra sheets, towels and washcloths. Grabbing a towel, she headed back into her room and closed the door.
“You forgot to latch the window,” Xavier said.
From inside her room.
Shock bolted through every one of her nerve endings. Even as she managed to swallow her scream, she leaped backward like a scalded cat and her back hit the wall with a thump.
The bedside light clicked on, and light assaulted her eyes.
The window was wide open and the curtain pulled back. Xavier sat on her bed, his back propped against the headboard and legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was dressed simply in the white shirt and black trousers that he had worn earlier, but even that plain outfit seemed impossibly formal and extremely masculine against the backdrop of the rumpled bedcovers.
He regarded her coolly, his lean face hard.
She felt raw and exposed, as if she had left her skin behind when she had leaped backward. He had made some excuse to Melisande, come back to the attendants’ house and climbed through the second-story window, all in the time it had taken her to go down the hall to the linen closet and back again.
This, she thought. This is why Vampyres scare the shit out of me.
Staring down at the towel she twisted between her hands, she said, “Oh, that window? I must have—I must have forgotten to latch it when I had it open this afternoon.”
“Were you not told of the protocol that should be followed whenever an enemy might be on the estate?” he asked. The small, thin scar beside his stern mouth looked whiter than it had when she had noticed it at the Ball.
“The protocol.” She cleared her throat, while in her mind’s eye she was starting to see the words in capital letters: THE PROTOCOL. “Yes. Yes, I was told.”
He rose to his feet with the same pure, liquid grace as before and walked toward her. “Did you open the window afterward?”
She pursed her lips, while her hands shook, and—oh my God, why did he keep coming toward her? Angling her head away, she sidestepped toward the puddle. Dropping the towel on the water, she pushed it around with one bare foot.
His hands came around her upper arms, and he turned her toward him. He said, “Did you. Open the window. Afterward.”
Her head might have moved up and down a bit.
“Do you know how I know that already?”
This time she shook her head. Her gaze focused on the fourth button on his shirt. He smelled like a woman’s perfume. If he and Melisande hadn’t kissed, they had at least hugged.
Not that it was any of her business what they did. Still, she couldn’t help but notice. It was very nice perfume.
He said between his teeth, “Because I know the others would have done a sweep of the house to make sure it was locked down as soon as they received word that a dangerous Vampyre and her attendants were going to arrive.”
It was actually pretty terrible how he never raised his voice. She looked down at his hands, still gripping her upper arms. They were slim and strong, with long fingers and lean wrists.
While his touch seemed to brand itself into her skin, he wasn’t hurting her. That might possibly change at any second. She lifted her gaze and met his. “I broke your rules, and I’m sorry.”
His voice lowered into a growl. “You’re not sorry.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s true.” She felt her head start to nod again and made herself stop. “I’m not really, exactly sorry I opened the window. I’m just sorry you noticed.” She paused then forced herself to continue. “I’d also like to point out that you’re touching me without my permission, and I just wanted to remind you of the promise you made. You know, the one where you wouldn’t coerce me or do anything to me against my will.”
One of his eyebrows rose—just one—and he looked angrier and more imperious than anyone else she had ever seen. Finger by finger, he lifted his hands away from her arms, moving so slowly and deliberately, it was as good as a shout.
I choose to do this, the gesture said. You do not compel me.
Her insides had turned to a quivering mass of jelly. Moving with extreme care, she took a step back.
He followed, and his piercing gaze held her like a trap. “Do you know why those rules are in place?”
He was crowding into her personal space, but she thought she’d better not point out again that he did so without her permission, because that seemed like a card that should only be played rarely. “I’ll take a wild guess. They’re probably for our own good?”
“Quite. Now can you please explain why you disregarded that?”
Unable to stand still, she squatted to fold the damp towel. “I woke up and it was something like eighty degrees in my room.”
“And?”
“And I thought, well, just for five minutes, the one and only hostile Vampyre on the entire estate won’t notice if a window in the far corner of a secondary building was cracked open. For five minutes. And even if she did notice, she wouldn’t be able to get inside without an invitation. I was just about to close it again when I heard you and the Light Fae princess talking, and I realized I couldn’t shut it until you left, because otherwise you might hear me. Then like a complete moron, I knocked stuff off my nightstand, and you found out anyway.”
Shifting his weight so he stood hipshot, he crossed his arms. “What did you hear?”
“Not much.” She shrugged, while her mind raced. Had any of it been confidential?
“Be specific.”
“You like and miss each other. She’s sorry she lost her temper. Things are strained between her and Julian, and I guess between Julian and the Nightkind council.” Her gaze darted up to his face again, but his expression was a closed book. “You’re not happy at having Justine here, but I already knew that. Raoul said earlier that she’s an enemy.”
“You didn’t miss much, did you?”
“I guess the wind was blowing in the right direction. I didn’t want to . . .” She caught herself up before she said something untrue, because after the first few minutes, she had actually wanted to eavesdrop. Not that she was proud of it. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I’m really sorry about that.”
He gestured impatiently. “Stop squatting.”
Warily, she rose to her feet.
His quiet voice stung like a whip. “Justine might not have been able to enter without permission, but her attendants could have. They could have climbed in here almost as quickly and quietly as I did just now, slit your throat and be gone again inside of ten minutes. And before you tell me h
ow unlikely that is, I will tell you that exact scenario has happened before. Vampyres have been known to take vengeance against other Vampyres through attacking their attendants.”
Appalled, she lifted her chin. He was right, of course, and she would take whatever he had to say without flinching. Much. She said again, “I’m sorry. Were they your attendants?”
“No, they were someone else’s, and it happened over thirty years ago.” He studied her expression then said, “While it may surprise you to hear this, I’m not actually angry that you broke the rules.”
The world shifted under her feet again. “You’re not?”
“You thought things through, considered potential risks and took action that was independent of any orders that you’d been given. And while I understand that it was entirely accidental, you also acquired a great deal of information. Those traits are all very useful to me.” He paused. “In fact, I only have a few real problems with what you did.”
She regarded him with a great deal of wariness, because once again, this conversation had run away from her. “What are they?”
“You assumed you knew better than we did and were stupidly careless. And you got caught.”
Her mouth opened and closed. She had never experienced anything quite like this lecture before, and she didn’t know what to make of it.
He turned brisk. “Melisande, Justine and I will be leaving promptly tomorrow at sundown. As you undoubtedly already overheard, after the council meetings I’ll be traveling to New York, so I will see you in February. I’ll expect an excellent progress report, so try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” He gave her a slow smile. “Or at least try not to get caught.”
She opened her mouth again, but nothing came out.
He slipped a couple of fingers under her chin and gently eased her mouth shut. “To avoid unnecessary conversation with any of the others, I’m going to leave the way I came in. You will lock the window when I’m gone.”
He didn’t phrase it as a question, but she nodded anyway.