Page 61 of Bought for Blood

“Finally,” she says.

“What are you talking about, Odile?”

“You’ve found a companion.”

“That’s not what she is.”

“Isn’t she?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, which is her way of telling me she already has one. “I’ve brought two of my own, by the way. I meant to mention it before you heard footsteps and reached for something sharp.”

“Two.”

“Théo and Julian. You’ll like them. Everyone does, briefly.” She examines her glass. “Don’t fret. They won’t remember a word of tonight past the second bottle. That’s rather the point of them.”

“You brought guests to my table who won’t remember being at it.”

“I brought guests to your table who are decorative, delightful, and entirely disposable as witnesses.” She says it without a flicker of apology. “It’s the only kind I keep these days. Saves everyone the paperwork.”

“I’ll tell Yves to set extra places,” I tell her. There’s no point in arguing with Odile.

Serenity comes down at eight.

I hear the shoes she isn’t used to, then the breath, then the small pause on the landing where she squares herself before the last flight. The smell of her reaches the drawing room before she does. Warm skin, her hair, the wolf sitting underneath it. Beneath all of that, the thing in her blood. Four days in this house now, and my mouth hasn’t gone anywhere near it. My teeth push down in their sockets. I take my time putting the decanter back on the tray.

She stops at the door in dark blue satin, hair up off her neck, the diamonds sitting where I put them.

“You must be Odile.”

“I must be.” Odile stands and takes both her hands, which she has never done for me. “That’s the Villenave collar.”

“I don’t know what it is. He put it on me and told me a story about an empress.”

“I watched the empress wear it. She had a thick neck and no sense.” Odile turns her head an inch toward me. “It’s better where it is.”

Serenity’s chin lifts, and I know that look. She has been in my house four days, and she has decided this woman is a rival.

I’m a bastard for liking that, but I do.

“Serenity, may I introduce Comtesse Odile de Rosemonde. Odile, this is Serenity Sangrey. My…friend.” I smile at both of them. Serenity is eyeing Odile with suspicion.

“Enchantée, Serenity.” Odile seems oblivious to Serenity’s hostility, though I know that she’s not. “And please don’t bother with all that Comtesse bullshit. Call me Odile.”

“Okay,” Serenity says, eyes moving between the two of us.

“Two hundred years,” I say. “That’s the answer to the question you’re not asking.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“You were,” Odile says. “And let me set your mind at ease. I’ve watched this man bore himself into a stupor for decades.It’s been tedious. Whatever you’re worried about, I don’t have the patience for it.” A pause. “I have my own collection, and it’s arriving separately.”

“Your collection?”

“You’ll meet them in a moment. Try not to encourage the taller one. He’ll propose by dessert if you laugh at his jokes.”

Serenity looks at her, then her shoulders loosen, and she laughs. And that is when the doorbell rings.

Théo comes in first, tall and loud and already halfway through a story nobody asked for. Julian trails a step behind him with two bottles under one arm, boyish, easy in his own skin. I recognize him as the companion who’d been at the auction, which surprises me.

“You kept the blond?” I say to Odile.