Page 120 of Eternal Devotion
As much as he drove me crazy and often invaded my solitude, he was the closest thing I had to family. We embraced, a rare exchange that felt necessary. When we came apart, he held me at arm’s length, scanning me up and down.
“You have spunk in your step, and I dare say, you look as fresh as a ripe peach. That human of yours must have rich blood.”
“Oh, good. You’re still an irritating bastard. I feared in my absence you might lose your edge.”
“Never. Not going to lie. This is a pleasant surprise.” He cradled my cheek. “I expected you gaunt and wanting. I had threats prepared and everything.”
“Well,” I pushed his hand away, “you needn’t have worried. Shall we go inside?”
“Please. Lead the way.” Cristofer sized up the desecrated mansion with a smirk. “Such a charming place you’ve got here. However did you find such a gem? I’m green with envy.”
“Go ahead. Laugh. You will pay for this. If it takes a hundred years, I’ll get you back.”
“I expected no less.”
We entered via the bedroom window, and Cristofer immediately noticed the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Ah, the scene of the crime.” He inhaled sharply. “I smell him, too. Is he a good lay?”
“I’m not having this conversation.” Taking Cristofer roughly by the arm, I steered him out the door and down the hall to the stairs.
We congregated in the kitchen, where the map remained sprawled on the worktop table. Then, sparing no detail, I described every step I’d taken since my arrival, detailing what I’d discovered and the obstacles I’d encountered. For once, Cristofer curbed his saucy attitude and listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he asked to see the cellar. Standing a distance from what had been my sole resting place, he begrudgingly agreed with my assessment.
“Definitely compromised.”
“Yes.”
“Unsalvageable.”
“Like I said.”
“I asked Seamus to collect more and have it sent. It should arrive by courier tomorrow, alongside my own. He’s given instructions for the crates to be left at the front door. No signature required. Although, I do hope we can finish this quickly so I can return home. I hooked myself a gorgeous Albanian football player last week, and I would hate to lose him. Humans have such short attention spans.”
“Pot meet kettle.” Not interested in his latest conquest, I steered the conversation back on track. “Will it be wise to establish ourselves in the mansion again? I might be able to locate a suitable alternative.”
“I’m undecided. Show me where Iulian is being held. Let’s assess the situation and see if it’s something we can handle on our own. The hour is young. If those rotten hunters prove malleable, we could have Iulian out before dawn.”
“It will never be that easy.”
“No, but we’ll all have a good laugh if it is.”
It was close to ten when we arrived on the eyot. The night was especially dark under the trees, with a heavy autumn sky blocking the moon and stars. Melding into the shadows, we approached the clearing, stopping a dozen yards away from the trapdoor and her team of guards before returning to human form.
“I thought you said there were three.” Cristofer’s voice was low enough to be inaudible to humans at our distance.
Grimacing, I cursed. “They’ve upped their numbers.”
“Aw. Your lovely birds frightened the poor bastards.” Cristofer chuckled. “Well done, duck.”
It alerted them to trouble was what it did. Any hope that the hunters had assumed it was a natural frenzy of crows vanished.
Six guards stood around the entrance to the underground cell, far more alert than the previous times I visited, which might have been partially due to the early hour, although I doubted it. How many protected the stone sarcophagus? The same number? More? Valerius had definitely been informed of my trickery.
The increased security wasn’t the only change. The surface of the trapdoor had vanished under a heaping mound of garlic blossoms. The access I’d had to gaps around its surface was gone.
We moved closer. I pointed out the trip wire, and Cristofer nodded. “Shall we try?”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
