“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, inwardly cringing that she knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
“Rosie, I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re a Vampire, and I don’t want you developing feelings for aSlayer.What if we have to kill him? Or what if he finds out who you are and tries to kill you?”
“Trust me, I have no intentions of dating him. I just went out for lunch to get information,” I said.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I do not like Connor the way you’re thinking,” I assured her.
“Just be careful, okay?” she said softly, her tone less accusatory.
“I will,” I replied, climbing out of bed and standing to head to my room. “And we have to keep gathering information, especially for George. We can’t let his efforts go to waste.”
Vail nodded, but the tension still lingered. As I closed the door behind me, I felt a mix of relief and concern.
SIXTEEN
March 21, 1891
My Dearest Vail,
I spend most of my timein the garden. I have found solace tending to the earth; it gives me a sense of purpose that I desperately need. In the tranquility, I cannot help but think of my mother and father, replaying childhood memories in my mind. At night, the weight of regret presses on me. I wonder if I could have saved my mother if only I had been less selfish.
The man I am staying with … I often catch a glimpse of the way he looks at me. It ignites something I cannot ignore. It leaves me wondering what thoughts lie behind his intense eyes.
My thoughts have been consumed by him during the day, and I find myself counting the hours until he returns.
Please write me soon.
Yours,
Rosalia
I pushed open the doors to the kitchen to give Imalda the letter, but when I entered the kitchen, I was greeted with a large pair of eyes. A maid I’d never seen before stood there in the same attire that Imalda usually wore. Herlong hair shimmered like copper in the light, and when our eyes met, she let out a small gasp before darting away, faster than a mouse, scurrying through the back door of the kitchen. I knew Draven had servants; I often heard the soft shuffling of furniture and the gentle sweep of brooms, but since my arrival, Imalda had been the only one to introduce herself.
Curiosity pulled me forward. I’d never been through that section of Thornwood before, so I pushed open the door. Behind it was a long hallway lined with doors, which I guessed led to the staff quarters. As I walked down the corridor, I noticed dried garlic, Virgin Mary figurines, and crosses decorating the walls and doorways. My fingers brushed against one of the crosses just as a laundry basket in the corner caught my attention.
I looked down and gasped. The blue fabric draped across the top looked familiar, resembling the dress I had worn when I first arrived. With trembling hands, I pulled it out of the basket.
A wave of memories crashed over me, dragging me back to that night. I covered my mouth, fighting back tears, blinking furiously to keep them at bay. I fled back through the kitchen, my pulse pounding in my ears.
In my haste, I swung open the door and collided with something. Draven. His broad, sturdy chest caught me, and I stepped back, gazing up at him as he looked over me.
“I apologize, I did not see you,” I said, fighting back tears that threatened to spill as I clenched my fists.
“Where were you headed in such a hurry?” Draven asked me.
I looked away from him, feeling a mixture of grief and anger. I couldn’t shake the images that flashed before my eyes. The Blood Hunter, the struggle to escape, and my mother’s fate. I took a deep breath.
“I was trying to find Imalda—” But my voice cracked, and a tear leaked, marking a path down my cheek.
Draven’s hands moved to my face, lifting my chin so I had no choice but to meet his gaze. His thumbs wiped away my tears with gentle care.
“Rosalia, what is the matter?” he asked, his voice soft.
“I … I cannot stay here any longer,” I whispered, my voice breaking as more tears began to fall. I rushed to move past him, but he caught my arm gently and turned me back to face him.
“Draven, let me go. I … I…”
