“All a show,” Roger murmured.
“It’s not.” Josefina squeezed his arm. He bent his head down, and she touched her forehead to his. No romantic love had ever existed between them, but their quiet kinship was its own loving bond. “Save our lost dear ones and watch your back. I want many more decades hearing your voice.”
“I’ll try.” Roger smiled, but it felt hollow.
Once she was driving away, Roger returned to the Wrights. They were already deep in the discussion of the best approach to the mansion, and Amber began to pepper Roger with questions he hadn’t thought of.
But a plan was forming. Roger had experienced allies, even if he couldn’t trust Cal not to stake him in the back.Hold on one more night, loves. I’m coming.
CHAPTER 6
The bedroom lacked a doorknob. Takashi had noted that before he’d fallen asleep, but he could do nothing about it.
Otherwise, the bedroom had a lovely bed, no windows, a wardrobe and dresser, a matching desk, and a small bathroom. The subtlety didn’t elude him. Of course, Seamus would say that the lack of windows meant no fear of sunlight penetrating the space, but that also meant Takashi couldn’t escape through them. A wardrobe could store clothing as well as a closet, so there was no need for that extra space. And the bathroom didn’t have a lock because why would he need one? The space was only for him.
It was a prisoner’s cell disguised as a guest’s lodging. Takashi had seen its like before, though the lack of a doorknob was new.
Effectively locked in, he had showered, slept the best he could, and then woke. The clothes in the wardrobe fit him but weren’t any of his personal, tailored pieces. They were store-bought and a fraction too wrong for him.
Hours had passed.
How long would he be forced to remain in the room? In the mansion? What had happened to Roger and Zack? Werethey being tortured while he walked back and forth? Were they waiting in some similar room and worrying over him?
Breaking walls was a noisy prospect, and there was no telling what might be hidinginthe walls. Takashi paced slowly, his hunger growing, and watched the door. Seamus couldn’t hope to continue his charade if he didn’t give Takashi an opportunity to feed. Did Seamus know that Takashi knew that this was one massive lie? Had he given away too much information the night before and Seamus decided he no longer needed anything from him?
No. If that was the case, he’d be dead.
Takashi started counting his steps. Then the number climbed too high, and he stopped before it drove him into paranoia. His bloodlust was clawing at his insides. He had gone nights without feeding before, but each one had been a test of his patience.
Surely all the walls couldn’t be booby-trapped. Maybe there was even a secret exit. Older vampires loved hidden passageways.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Takashi started for it, remembered there was no handle, and called out eagerly, “Yes?”
A teenage boy swung open the door. He kept his head bowed, gaze never lifting from the floor. He had stark moonlight-white skin and wore a dark-colored vest and shorts that accentuated his angular frame. His collar was a deep red.
He smelled delicious, but Takashi kept his fangs to himself.
The boy motioned for Takashi to follow him out of the room.
Perhaps leaving the bedroom wasn’t what Takashi wanted at all. But he couldn’t remain behind. He followed the boy. They wound their way to a staircase and to the first floor. All the doors were closed, leaving Takashi with the impression of long halls with only art pieces and vases of flowers for reference. Such things could be easily moved about.
Even a labyrinth has a way out.Takashi kept track of the number of doors he passed. He was fairly certain he hadn’t been this way the previous night.
The boy led him to a sitting room with a crackling fireplace. Several bookcases lined the walls, and they were filled with hardback novels. The collection spanned the last couple of centuries and seemed to run in chronological order of publication from a cursory glance. Across the dark wood floor was a rug that smelled of deep woods and brought forth an image of moonlight. The swirling, interlocking design also spoke to its Unseelie make. The chairs were leather, with bright brass finishings outlining the seams, and a low cream-colored sofa was against the right wall.
Three humans stood in front of the sofa. They were naked except for the gray band on each of their left arms.
Anton sat in one of the leather chairs. He had pulled his platinum-blond hair into a high ponytail and dressed in jeans and a hoodie. He had onsneakers. All of which seemed painstakingly new.
The vampire had always seemed so impressively old that Takashi had assumed he’d been somewhere in his thirties when he’d been made. But as he sat reading a leather journal, he looked young. In his current outfit, he’d have fit in on a college campus without raising any suspicions.
The curiosity almost eased Takashi’s mind into a sense of calm. Then he noticed that Anton was reading Zack’s journal.
First Seamus had his notes and the journal. Now Anton’s reading it.
His attire suddenly made a sick sort of sense. Anton was dressed like Zack preferred whenever he wasn’t dressed up for an evening out.
“There we go,” Anton said with a sigh of pleasure. He lifted his head and grinned, a wicked spread of his lips that onlychilled Takashi. Whatever merriment he’d found grew, and his ruby eyes sparkled with glee. “I would’ve thought you’d hide your fears better, but they are right there for the plucking. You’re easier than a piano.”
