She knew how to pick up information from nuances, things unspoken and physical evidence—things on a bedside table, dropped carelessly under a bed or left between the sheets. Looking at his unrelenting profile, she knew he thought her feelings toward them were a problem to be solved. Was it possible these brief moments of consideration and seduction, when she felt a surprisingly compelling connection to him, were merely ways to do what she suspected Danny had asked him to do? Brace her maid for the worst.

Since Danny’s motives were based on affection, she couldn’t fault her much for that. But his motives still felt unclear to her. The fact she was sure he heard her thought, and didn’t care to confirm or deny, only made her uneasiness that much worse.

13

SHE wasn’t one to waste a good moment on worry. She was going to see her fledglings. As they drove through the hills, she held on to that thought. Since Mal wasn’t talking much, she focused on the scenery with new eyes, particularly at the elevated points open enough that she could look down and see that puzzle piecing of different terrains, the magic glue like a dim line of blue fireflies. During daylight, she was sure each crest gave her a panoramic view of the ocean, the sunlight glittering off the waves. She hoped she’d eventually have the freedom Mal suggested to see that. She’d love to walk barefoot along the sandy shore, wade in the water.

Of course, first she had to learn how to drive. She’d coax one of the staff to teach her, in exchange for mending or cooking or other skills she had to trade. They’d done that at the station, one man whittling her a new stirring spoon in exchange for sewing his shirts, or Mrs. Rupert knitting her a cap while Elisa took over the baking for a day, giving the older woman rest for her swollen legs. That type of companionable bartering had to exist on an island where supplies were flown in and things weren’t readily at hand. While she was still perceived as a guest, and a temporary one at that, if that changed, she’d become part of that fabric.

She stole a glance at Malachi. Wanting to reclaim the earlier ease they’d had, she ventured forth with a question that seemed relatively safe, particularly since she already knew the answer. “There’s a councilperson named Lord Malachi. That’s not you, I assume?”

When Mal cocked his head toward her, the dark wing of his hair, the aquiline line of his nose, the way the dim light caught his dark eye, made the likeness to a bird of prey even more arresting. “Do I strike you as good at politics, Irish flower?”

My fat aunt jumped into her head before she could stop it. At his quizzical expression, she cleared her throat. “It’s an Aussie expression. It means . . . not really.”

He snorted. He turned off the main road, such that it was, onto something that looked like a deer track, the trees closing in so that palm fronds slid over the windshield and tickled the elbow she had braced on the open window. A trio of birds flushed just ahead, their crimson feathers and snow-white heads a splash of color against the greenery.

“Lord Belizar, the head of the Council, also has a full servant named Malachi,” Mal said. “There being so few vampires, they’ve considered changing the servant’s name to save confusion.”

“But that’s his name. I know they’re powerful vampires and all that, but taking away the name your mother gave you, that seems too much. Sometimes that’s all you have of yourself.”

Mal missed a gear. The Jeep jerked such that Elisa caught the dash with her free hand. She didn’t miss the look on her driver’s face, though. In that one brief second, his expression altered. It reminded her of how, sometimes, when her day was going along just fine, someone came up on her sudden-like, startling her. A dark well opened inside and things supposed to be in the past were all too present. His expression became inscrutable again in a flash, but she’d seen stark pain, overlaid by a rage so deep it was impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly terrified that she’d angered him beyond immediate repair. “I wasn’t trying to be insolent. I—”

He stopped the Jeep so abruptly she was glad she was still holding the dash, but his advice about standing fast before a charging predator came to mind when he turned toward her. “Elisa, short of you spitting in my face, you are going to get to see these damn vampires tonight. All right? So stop walking on eggshells and making everything about that. And for fuck’s sake, be quiet until we get there.”

The savagery took her aback, such that she had to force herself not to shrink into a corner. She sensed the anger wasn’t at her, not directly. She’d simply been a messenger carrying a missive he hadn’t wanted to receive. Taking a steadying breath, she tried to fold her hands in her lap and sit in dignified silence as he put the Jeep back in gear. After several tense seconds, she glanced at him through the gray darkness, the hard set of his mouth.

She wanted to apologize, and not because she was afraid of not seeing her fledglings. She hadn’t intended to hurt or upset him. She didn’t like to do that to anyone, not without cause, and she’d really thought it a safe line of conversation. But since he seemed to prefer her silence, she swallowed the compulsion and hoped to have a chance to offer her regrets later.

He navigated one final turn that slid them into a clearing, which gave her a first glimpse at the enclosures Thomas described. Eagerly, she sat forward, straining for a better look. She could see movement, and thought it might be William. Another small figure stepped out of a walled shelter inside his cell and turned toward the oncoming Jeep. Unmistakably Jeremiah.

Though it had been only a couple days, she’d thought about them with every inhale, worried with every exhale. She’d treated that rhythm like a clock, counting down to this moment so she wouldn’t go mad. Perhaps she had gone a little wobbly. But now, so close to her goal and not wanting to do a single wrong thing, she forced herself to stay seated in the Jeep, waiting for Mal’s direction.

She admitted being impressed by what she was seeing. The enclosure area was large, each individual cell enough to house a small cabin and patch of yard. The yard area wasn’t just gravel or dirt. Small trees had been planted there, flowers, bushes. Like the cats, there was a box-sized cage attached to the larger cell, through which she suspected the staff could leave their blood donations so the fledglings could retrieve it without contact.

The individual cabins were joined to one large communal enclosure, the place Mal had let them interact with him. That area was likewise landscaped, with a birdbath to attract small feathered creatures through the gleaming silver fencing that completely enclosed the area, including the top. That gleam made it like no type of fencing she’d seen. She wondered if Mal had somehow used an extra wisp of Derek’s magic to reinforce this area, ensure it was strong enough to keep vampires from tearing, digging or climbing out.

Danny had contacted Mal several months ago. Despite that length of time, this was far more than his attitude had led her to expect. She was a bit shamed by her doubts.

“This is all just for show. They were actually yanked out of a dank hole in the ground, hosed down and cleaned up, then put here to ease your mind,” Mal observed acidly. “That’s why I’ve been wasting your time and boring you with the rest. They weren’t quite ready.”

“It wasn’t a waste—”

“Here are the ground rules. You stay four feet away from the cells at all times. I’ll open up the communal space inside and you can walk around. You can leave them things in the lockdown cages. I’ll show you how to open those so they can take the trinkets and tidbits you’ve brought them. You’ll always be accompanied here, but once you know the system you can operate the controls under supervision, and that way my person can do paperwork and other useful things while babysitting you.”

“I thought I’d be helping you . . . with your evaluation.”

“You will be. Doesn’t mean I trust you here alone.”

He was impossible to understand. As if to add to her confusion, he came around the Jeep to help her out again. Maybe his bark was worse than his bite, and she just had to figure him out. She accepted his hand with a brief hesitation, but when she placed her fingers in his he tightened his grip enough to snap her gaze to his face. “Repeat what I said to you, Elisa.”

“I don’t see how—”

“Now. Or you get back in this Jeep.”

“Fine.” She blew out a breath. “No closer than four feet to the cells. Always supervised. You’ll show me how the cage system works so I can leave them things.”

“Good. You forget to do this right, and one of them may rip you to pieces in bloodlust, whether or not they want to do so. Or they could do it quite intentionally. I expect you remember that, don’t you?”

His tone held the mildest touch of sarcasm, but it lanced across her belly like a knife wound. For a moment, she wasn’t sure he’d said something so unspeakably cruel, but then she wrenched her hand away, backing into the Jeep. “You bastard.”

Immediately, she sucked in a breath, appalled at herself. But before she could admonish herself or stammer an apology, he’d recaptured her arm in one swift movement. Drawing her resisting body close again, she realized he thought she was going to storm away.

Elisa, calm down. You can’t be emotional here. They feel everything. Look at me. Look up at my face.

Apparently, he didn’t consider his sarcastic barb emotion. She set her jaw mutinously, and heard him sigh. He touched her chin. “Yes, I was being a bastard. I’m sorry.”

That surprised her enough to look up. She saw genuine regret in his eyes. You touched a nerve, Elisa. It wasn’t your fault; you didn’t know. You don’t know my past the way I know yours. Which only makes what I said that much more unforgivable.

Vampires never apologized to humans. Dev often joked about it, the backhanded way Danny would make amends for being catty, anything short of a verbal apology. The fact Mal did so now, so straightforward, turned everything around in her, as quick and easy as she’d been hurt. Simple. Reaching up, she touched his face, because he looked like he’d made himself sad, and she didn’t want that. “Nothing is unforgivable,” she murmured.

*** Copyright: Novel12.Com