With a curse, she would have V-8’d her forehead, but she was still healing. “Ah, just water, thank you.”
The old man seemed crestfallen, as if he had missed a chance to show off his bartending skills—and something about the sincerity of the reaction made her want to relieve the suffering she didn’t quite understand.
“Actually, how about some… orange juice?” she hedged.
“Oh, marvelous choice!” He clasped his gloved palms together as if she had just called his infant grandson a Rhodes Scholar. “I shall hand squeeze it—and perhaps we should add a bit of mandarin to enhance the flavor profile?”
“I—you know, I’m going to rely on you to make that decision.”
“Right away!”
The butler went off with a spring in his step, and somehow his unadulterated joy at having such a modest duty made her feel more comfortable in the fancy house than anything else could have. Glancing around, she wondered what kind of “business” Darius was handling. Hopefully, nothing dangerous—
Click.
Whrrrrrrr.
Like something out of a James Bond movie, the painting of the monarch was moving on a slide along its wall, revealing… a spiral stone staircase that was lit with gas lanterns?
Anne glanced around and wondered if she should call for the butler. But given that he was in charge of the place, chances were good he wasn’t going to be surprised.
Drawn forward by the mystery, the darkness, the flickering light, she leaned in and looked down the descent. The steps were worn and very old, and with the curve, she couldn’t see where they led—
Anne?
At first, she thought she was hearing things. But then her name was spoken again. “Anne…?”
“Darius?”
It was a night for questions, she thought. And also, wasn’t this how horror stories got started? A woman with no family being called by a relative stranger down a creepy set of steps into the earth?
Where there were, like, monsters waiting to eat her or something.
“Anne, can you come down here?”
She glanced at the portrait in its new position. Then looked back to the churning lanterns. The sense that her life would never be the same if she took the first step was so profound, her body weaved back and forth.
Except then she realized… the course of things had already changed for her.
Irrevocably.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can.”
CHAPTER NINE
At the bottom of the curving staircase, Darius had one hand on the rough wall and the other on insanity’s proverbial shoulder. All he wanted to do was rush up to the woman who was at the top of the steps, but it just wasn’t safe. He and Fritz always left the drapes open around the house, the better to fit in among humans, and there was still enough light in the sky to blind him. Maybe even smoke his skin.
And he didn’t want Anne to see that.
So here he was, stuck underground, dying to get to her—but all he could do was try to entice her down a set of stone steps that no doubt looked like something out of a Vincent Price—
“I’m waiting for a drink,” came her voice again.
He closed his eyes, partially because he loved the sound of her. And partially out of frustration for how the Scribe Virgin had chosen to tie the hands of her one and only creation.
“Fritz will bring it down for you,” he said roughly. “And I’m sorry about this, I’m just working on something here.”
As he spoke the lie, everything he wasn’t telling her crashed into his conscience. Except there were rules, old rules, that needed to be adhered to even in this New World where no one was willing to lead.
And just maybe… he didn’t want to see the expression on her face when she learned the truth of what he was.
Shit—
“What is this place?”
The sound of her footfalls barely carried over the soft hissing of the gas lanterns, but he could hear her coming down to him, slowly, steadily—and then he caught her scent.
Closing his eyes again, he breathed in, drawing the fragrance of fresh meadow flowers into his nose, his soul. Even though he had seen her just the night before, it felt like a lifetime since he’d—
And there she was, rounding the curve, the restless, banked flames playing over the face that he had visualized in his every waking moment and throughout his dreams. Oh, wow, she had worn her hair down for him, the naturally highlighted brown length flowing free and shining off the crown of her head—and her clothes were what he had come to expect, simple and perfect, a loose linen skirt and a bright white button-down, coupled with a coral sweater tied around her shoulders.
She looked bright and sunny, even though it was early evening.
“Hi,” he said as she stopped a couple of steps higher than him… so that their faces were on the same level.
Her smile was shy. “Hi.”
Annnnnnd then they just stared at each other. Which made him feel less like a letch: As long as she was looking at him in the same way, then consuming her with his eyes seemed less inappropriate.
“I’m sorry if this is weird.” Wait, that was what he’d said to her last night, right? “Jesus, I’m like a broken record, aren’t I.”
“What is this place?” She indicated the stairwell. “I mean… that painting, these steps, the lanterns? I feel like I’m in a Vincent Price movie.”
“That’s exactly what I was worried about.” He shook his head. “You have nothing to fear here, I promise you.”
It wasn’t like she was standing in front of Dracula, or anything.
Fuck.
“It’s okay.” She smiled in a way that reached her eyes and warmed them. “Now that you’re here—I mean, I’m here with you—I mean—”
“Now that we’re together.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “That’s right. Everything’s okay now.”
As he felt a wave of heat hit his face, it was like he’d never been alone with a female before. Sure, he was nothing on Rhage’s level when it came to the opposite sex, but he was not unfamiliar with these things. He had even had two young outside of proper mating who had tragically died centuries ago.
When it came to Anne, however, he…
His eyes dropped to her mouth. And all he could think of was kissing her.
Except as he glanced back into his own chamber, he knew she deserved more respect than to be alone with him where his bedding platform was, especially given where he was in his head. What the hell had he thought they were going to do down here? Stand at the base of the stairs until sunset?
Well, as she said, at least they were together.
As if on cue, she leaned forward and looked into the darkened guest suite, where Wrath sometimes slept.
“What an incredible place,” she murmured. “This house… is amazing.”
“Let me show you around.”
Darius led the way into the other chamber because it was the better of the two options. And though there was no indent where the King had lain across the bed, he smoothed his hand over the duvet anyway.
“Is this where your boss stays?” she asked as she walked around and looked at the landscape paintings that were supposed to take the place of windows. “It certainly seems very secure.”