“He has returned,” the man said, his pupils still blown wide and his eyes glazed. “I can sense him.”
Mireille glanced down the staircase. “Come with us.”
The trio hustled back to the guest wing, and as soon as Mireille shut the door to their suite, Ronin asked, “Why did we bring him back here?”
Mireille guided the servant into an armchair, then perched on the table before him. “Seeing if we can get any additional information before we set him loose.” The servant merely satthere, waiting expectantly, his eyes glued to Mireille. “Where is Otto hiding the Fallen Goddess relics? And what are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Mireille vented a frustrated grunt while Ronin merely crossed his arms, leaning against the mantel and observing the interrogation. “Did Otto know who I was before he invited me here?”
“Who are you?” The servant cocked his head. Mireille didn’t answer.
“Worth a try,” Ronin murmured. “Ask him about the stones. He was in the crypt two nights ago.”
“The anastasium stone that you took from the diva’s ashes. Why was it glowing?”
“Her soul was captured within it.”
Mireille nodded, encouraging him. One theory confirmed, at least. “And what is he doing with the glowing stones?”
“I don’t know.” The servant shook his head, frowning. As if it pained him to not have the answers Mireille sought. Then he perked up slightly. “But I do know where he’s keeping them.”
“Where?”
“Where the souls will be contained. Where death feeds life and life feeds death.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Ronin muttered.
Mireille grasped the man’s shoulders. “Can you be a little more specific?”
“I…” The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, exposing whites, and his body began to shudder.
Ronin leaned over the back of the chair. “What’s happening to him?”
“The Bleeding Heart is wearing off.” She swept the old man out of the chair and pushed him toward the door. “Go back to your quarters. Tell no one what happened.”
The man’s features slackened, confusion and obedience warring on his face as he slipped out of the room.
Ronin shut the door behind him. “You are fuckingruthless, Valette. Remind me never to cross you.”
Mireille slumped into a chair and Ronin sank into the one across from her. “Where the souls will be contained. Where death feeds life and life feeds death… what do you think that means?”
Ronin leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Sounds like the crypt. But we saw him taking the stone out of there…”
Mireille’s mind swirled with possibilities, eddying around the edges of something she couldn’t firmly grasp. Their discovery in Otto’s office, half her family history laid bare, hogged her attention.
They sat in silence, both in quiet contemplation of the servant’s words, when something swished underneath the door.
Mireille rose to pick up the card, then turned to Ronin, reading it: “The second performance will take place this evening at sunset in the Main Ballroom. Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres will be served until precisely two minutes before midnight, at which time a revered visitor will guide us in a seance in dishonor of Stygios the Reaper, High God of Death and Destruction.” Mireille snorted. “That doesn’t sound ominous or anything.”
Ronin slumped further into his chair. “This is officially the weirdest fucking job I’ve ever worked. Company’s not too bad though.” He slid his eyes to her, gauging her reaction. Bracing himself for a barbed retort.
This male had already saved her life twice. Both timesaftershe’d stubbornly refused to accept his help. He’d cajoled her into eating and sleeping, made sure she took care of herself even as her mind roared at her to ignore her bodily needs and keep working. Kindnesses no one had ever bestowed upon her.
Kindnesses she’d neverletanyone bestow upon her.
So she clawed back her instincts to push him away again, to retreat into her safe solitude, and answered him.
