“Does killing excite you?” she asked, staring straight ahead.
“I suppose you’ll just have to find out, little sparrow.”
She backed from him, and in that short, risque dress, Cal found himself struck by the desire to chase. To see her hair flying, and the flirtatious kick of her skirt as she ran like she didn’t want to get away. He could imagine it as vividly as if it was happening right now, which made the sudden fear on her face all the more jarring when he blinked to clear the images from his head.
“What’s the difference between a sparrow and a deer?”
“Oh, Nadine. Must we?”
“I want to know.”
The stubbornness in her voice let him know that this time, the subject would not be dropped. Cal sighed, scrubbing at his face. “My father has a saying—perhaps he’s said it to you. ‘Dumb as deer.’ Yes?” he prompted, already knowing the answer.
She stared at him, mouth open.
“You can fuck a deer and shoot a deer and it will make a fine trophy, but you would never make one the mother of your child, You can breed a deer and not a sparrow. It’s as simple as that.”
“I—that’s one of the most repulsive things I’ve ever heard.”
“Just be thankful you’re not a deer,” Cal muttered.
Nadine shook her head frantically. “Do you . . .eatpeople?”
“What?” The word was sharp as it left his lips. “Jesus, no. What the hell do you think we are?”
Nadine looked at him with an expression that said exactly what she thought he was, and if it weren’t so fucking atrocious, he might have been amused.
Cannibals.
That was what she thought they were doing out there in the woods.
“Fuck.” He looped his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side. “No more questions. Not to me and especially not to them. Now come to dinner—and no, it isn’t people,” he added grimly, “in case that was your next one.”
As he led her down the stairs, he remembered, quite against his will, Ben’s wedding and how Noelle had looked as he’d led her down the aisle. The sunlight itself had seemed to turn cold as she walked into Ravensgate’s shadow, and when light fractured on the horizon, going from orange to vermilion, her hair had turned as red as blood.
C H A P T E R
F I F T E E N
a shade of herself
Their descent down the stairs felt like a funeral procession. Her face was grim as she walked to meet her fate, head lifted as if in defiance of an invisible knife. Cal was proud of her, but he was worried, as well. She looked more like a sacrifice than a bride.
“Be careful, darling,” he said, at the bottom of the stair. “Remember what I told you. Don’t provoke them.”
“You don’t need to threaten me.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.” He reached out, not quite touching her face. “Do you find that so difficult to trust, given all I’ve done? I don’t think so. You ran to me once.”
Nadine jerked her head away. “’Poor lost little Nadine’ was a little too trusting.”
“Please.” The word came out more desperate than he’d intended. It made her look at the hand on her arm, her lips pressed into a firm line.
Then she said, “It will look more convincing if you don’t drag me.”
Wordlessly, he let his hand drop as he turned towards the dining room. She hesitated again before falling into place beside him. Neither of them said another word as they worked their way through the vast maze of rooms, the air so still that he imagined he could hear the faint hum of the wires powering the converted gas lamps.
His family was already there, waiting. Cal didn’t care for that—it had the feel of an intervention. Or an ambush. He decided to pretend nothing was wrong, pulling out one of the chairs for the lady as if this were any other dinner, and she were any other guest.
