And…there goes my last shred of dignity.
Alastor, still scowling, shot me a death-glare before marching over to a painting that hung between two of the bookcases. He touched a place on the right side of the gilded frame, and with a littleclickit swung open, revealing a small fridge set into the wall behind the work of art.
When he returned to the table, he unceremoniously dropped a platter in front of me. It was covered in a wide array of fancy cheeses.
“You’ll have to make do with that,” he growled, as if he’d just served me a plate of literal garbage.
Rich people.Not that I was complaining. I plucked a piece of hard white cheese from the plate and popped it into my mouth—and my eyes just about rolled back in my head. Occasionally I’d splurge on something from the cheese counter at the grocery store, but this was next-level goodness.
I didn’t even notice Alastor pouring me a glass of liquor until he set it down in front of me.
“Scotch,” he said in response to my raised eyebrows. “It’s all we keep down here.”
Was that a peace offering? Or did he just think I’d annoy him less if he got me drunk?
Honestly, I didn’t care. Scotch definitely wasn’t my drink of choice, and I knew I should probably eat before imbibing any more alcohol—heck, even the table was giving me thatshiveryfeeling now—but I wasn’t about to pass up what would probably be the most expensive liquor I ever tasted. I picked up the glass and took a sip of the amber liquid.
It was smokier than I expected—my tongue definitely wasn’t ready—but also a little sweet, and it was so smooth I didn’t feel even a hint of a burn as it slid down my throat.Maybe I could be a Scotch drinker after all.
When I lowered my glass, I found Alastor staring at me again. He’d taken the seat across from mine, positioning himself with his back to the big windows and dark water.
And he’d taken off his mask.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened—I’d been too focused on stuffing my face with cheese and avoiding his intense stare—but now that I’d seen his face, I couldn’t look away.
He was striking. Not traditionally attractive, the way I imagined Octavian and Radven looked beneath their masks. His nose was too hawkish, his brow too heavy, his jaw too angular. His sharp features were softened somewhat by his thick, dark hair, which was wavy in some places and curly in others like he’d let it air-dry after a swim in the ocean. And his skin was golden brown, but also oddly sallow in places, like he’d just gotten over being sick. Either way, though, he was just as intimidating now as he’d been with that terrifying mask.
I realized I was staring, so I quickly swallowed the bite of cheese in my mouth and looked down at the tray again, pretending to take my time choosing my next piece. After dragging it out for as long as I reasonably could, I selected a slice of something pale yellow and flecked with bits of dill.
When I looked up again, Alastor was still watching me. It made the back of my neck itch.
“It’s rude to stare, you know,” I told him.
“No ruder than squatting in someone’s private chamber and demanding food.”
I paused with my next bite of cheese halfway to my mouth, not sure whether to be embarrassed or offended.
“Your brother locked me in here,” I reminded him. “He didn’t really give me a choice in the matter. And you didn’t have to offer me the cheese. But you did, and I accepted it like a grateful guest. I thought it would be rude to refuse.” As much as it killed me to do it, I pushed the tray of delectable cheeses away from me.
A little furrow appeared between his thick brows, like I was a puzzle to him. Which puzzledme, because I was pretty sure I’d been perfectly clear about everything. I didn’t know why I was invited here, or why Radven had locked me in here, or why these brothers were giving me any sort of special treatment. I’d just wanted an interesting evening and, perhaps, a chance to dive into the buffet.
My stomach grumbled again at that last thought, but I ignored it. The same way I ignored the tempting platter of fancy cheeses. Somehow my hand found the glass of Scotch, though, and I took another sip before I could convince myself I was undermining my point. If I was going to be starving and confused, then at least I was going to enjoy some expensive alcohol while I suffered.
Alastor hadn’t given up his intense study of me, but the furrow at the bridge of his nose was relaxing little by little until he looked less confused and more intimidating again.
“You aren’t what I expected,” he said finally.
“You had preconceived notions about the woman you were surprised to find in your…” I gestured at the room around me. “Mancave? Secret lair?” When he didn’t immediately respond, I asked, “Or did you mean when you invited me to this party in the first place? Why was I even invited if you don’t know who I am? Did I win some sort of weird sweepstakes I didn’t know about?” Isaac’s theory that these guys chose random nobodies to hunt for sport was starting to look like a possibility, but I took another sip of Scotch to keep from settling on that thought for too long.
“It was my brothers who insisted on inviting you,” he said. “And frankly, I’m not convinced they didn’t get it wrong.” He took a drink from his glass, his eyes never leaving me.
“Getwhatwrong?”
He only shook his head dismissively, as if done with the matter.
I’m not sure whether it was sheer frustration or hanger from going too long without food, but I’d had enough.
“This is ridiculous,” I said, rising. “Why the hell won’t anyone tell me what’s going on around here? Obviously I was invited here for a reason, and I’m getting tired of all these stupid non-answers. If you need me, I’ll be—no, scratch that. If you need me, don’t bother. You’ve had enough chances to tell me the truth and I’ve lost interest.” I started toward the stairs.
