What an ominous thing to say, and yet, despite my trepidation, I entered the house—and really hoped it wouldn’t be like Hotel California where a guest could never leave.
Chapter Nine
Past the front doors of the massive log mansion was an enclosed vestibule—the size of which put my apartment to shame—where some staff wearing black and white uniforms were taking coats. I slid out of my outerwear and resisted an urge to hug my bare arms, not from cold but from a sense of exposure. Did my dress sparkle too much? Should the hem have been longer? Less clingy and revealing?
Too late to change now, but the car probably hadn’t gotten far. I could still escape.
Cillian firmly anchored me to his side—probably sensing my flight reflex kicking in. We stepped into a massive room, not just in width but height, the vaulted ceiling a good twenty feet or more overhead. To calm my nerves, I concentrated on the features of the room, like the huge stone hearth, big enough for someone to stand in, where a fire crackled. Five chandeliers hung from the ceiling, fabricated out of antlers, hundreds of them, and lit with actual candles, not bulbs. The wood plank floor appeared as if it had been scorched and varnished giving it a unique appearance. A massive tree, decorated in red, black, and gold, took up an entire corner. Matching valences hung over the windows and draped the arches scattered throughout the room leading to other areas of the house. Light music played, an orchestral version of a popular Christmas tune.
Now that I’d centered myself, I allowed my gaze to linger on the people. There had to have been a hundred or more at least in the room, and yet it remained spacious.
Cillian ducked his head to murmur, “In case you hadn’t figured it out yet, with those gathered, you don’t need to hide what you are.”
“Are you sure about that? Not everyone here is a vampire,” I stated. “I am detecting some very human heartbeats in the crowd.” I’d learned from being around Cillian, and comparing him to his human bodyguards, that a vampire’s heartbeat very slowly.
“Because this event caters to a variety of folks. Vampire, human, and many others.”
“When you say others, what do you mean?”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I scrunched my nose. “What if I don’t?”
“Then you’re not as clever as I thought.”
Well, damn. Now I had no choice but to muddle out the answer on my own. “Is this all the guests or are more coming?”
“I imagine there will be some latecomers, as well some will be in the basement. There are three sub-levels in addition to the pair up here.”
“Why three basements?”
Cillian leaned close to murmur. “Because Sophia doesn’t trust electronic shutters.”
“So who sleeps upstairs?”
“Anyone who isn’t a vampire. Humans. Cryptids.”
“Cryptids?” I interrupted at the unfamiliar word.
“A fancy term for non-humans.”
Non-humans AKA the others he’d mentioned. I suddenly had a zillion questions but no time to ask any of them because someone made a beeline for Cillian, a beautiful woman who made me feel frumpy despite my makeover. She glided—like seriously, I don’t think her feet moved—over to us, her filmy green gown reminding me of those worn by Grecian goddesses. Her mahogany hair had been swept up with only curling strands dangling to frame her perfect face. She was so beautiful that even my straight ass would have made out with her if she asked.
“Cillian, darling,” she purred. “It’s been ages.”
“Sophia.” He gave her a nod and didn’t melt into a worshipping puddle at her feet. I admired his fortitude.
“And who did you bring with you?” Sophia eyed me with curiosity.
“This is Skylar. My protégé.” Cillian kept his arm around my waist.
The statement raised Sophia’s brows. “I thought you’d sworn off creating.”
“What can I say, I was taken by the Christmas spirit of giving.”
I almost laughed and instead blurted, “More like pity.”
“Oh?” Sophia uttered that one syllable and my nervous ass blabbed.
