“And the wolf back there?” I asked.
“You ask a whole lot of questions for a personal assistant.” Her eyes danced, hinting that she teased.
I shrugged. “I was a librarian.”
Her eyes crinkled at the edges with a broad grin. “That explains it.”
We reached the kitchen, and she offered a nod.
“Thanks for the company. Hopefully I’ll see you again, Beau.” With that, Sofia disappeared into the kitchen, the dismissal clear.
I ran my fingers through my curls, annoyed that I’d spent the time getting ready for a dinner I hadn’t even been able to enjoy. Maybe I’ d come here later and raid the kitchen. It was what I’d been doing a lot lately, since it remained regularly stocked. A heavy sigh escaped me, and I headed back down the corridor in the direction of my room—my prison.
When I rounded the corner, I almost stopped midstride. Amelia waited for me by the door, a bowl in hand.
She took the first steps toward me. “I wasn’t sure where you’d gone off to, but I figured you might return here eventually.” We met midway down the hall, and she handed over the bowl of beef bourguignon I’d abandoned, still warm. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?” I asked. “You weren’t the one who was rude.”
She shook her head, and her lips twitched as if she fought a smile. “You’re far mouthier than I expected.”
“Didn’t realize meek subservience was part of the job description.”
“It’s not,” she said. “I think…you’ll be a good fit. I owe you an apology for not starting your work earlier. We assumed you’d want time to transition.”
The bowl warmed my hands, and combined with her apology, some of the anger flaring through me ebbed. “All this free time isn’t helpful when I’m locked up here.”
Amelia’s brows dipped. “Right. This is…an unprecedented situation. Bear with us for a little bit, okay?”
“Not used to keeping prisoners?” I asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from my tone.
She shook her head. “I think it’ll be good to have you around here, Beau Taylor. Good for him too. Get some rest. You’ll start work in the morning.” She offered a flash of a grin—a real one—and then turned on her heel, heading back down the corridor.
I stood in front of my door, holding the soup she’d offered me.
Tonight hadn’t delivered any answers, just more questions, ones that bubbled under my skin, igniting my curiosity.
Well, I had plenty of time to try to dig up the truth.
Cillian Ashmore would regret ever holding me hostage.
Chapter 7
For the first time all week, I woke up with the sun.
I wasn’t sure what to expect working as Cillian’s assistant, but I wanted to be ready for when Amelia summoned me. Energy flowed through me at the prospect of being able to focus on something again. My entire life, I’d been goal-oriented, unable to stay still unless I was reading, digesting information, helping archive dusty tomes. At least if I could find some purpose, this situation might not feel as confining, as restricting.
Even if I was still a prisoner.
I slipped out of bed, and a thump sounded as the book I’d been reading hit the floor. This one—Forbidden Desires—had appeared like the other one, and was a romance between demons of different class stations, whose system was a bit different from ours, based on ancestry and the type of horn they possessed. Not that I’d scrutinized demon horns often, but apparently the black polished type that arced up like Cillian’s indicated a higher station.
I slipped into a pressed button-down and slacks and then into neat black business shoes that probably cost more than most of my wardrobe back home. After running some product through my hair, I was ready.
A knock rapped at my door.
I opened it and found Amelia waiting on the other side with a coffee in one hand and a laptop bag in the other.
“You’ll be taking your notes electronically. Do you need to be debriefed on those skills before the first meeting?”
