When he found me (and he would), I was counting on the fact he’d give into me pleading for my life, figure out I was more of a pain in the ass than I was worth, he’d release me and I’d be on my way.
It was a ludicrous plan hatched in a hysterically angry frame of mind.
However, my day turned out rather busy and I never had the chance to put it into action.
First up, I tried to get Edwina to tell me if she knew what happened with my aunties. She said she didn’t know. I didn’t know her enough to know if she was lying or not but I let it go.
Next, I started to plan my getaway.
Obviously, I’d need cash, credit cards and identification. So, logically, I started with my purse.
There I found the dread, detested Lucien had not only confiscated my phone; he’d also taken my wallet and my passport.
The bastard.
That was okay. I had a few pieces of jewelry that were worth some money. I’d pawn them to get some cash.
I went to the drawer in my dressing table that had an inbuilt, velvet lined jewelry section.
My jewelry was gone.
Damn!
What? Did he read my mind at breakfast?
Undeterred, I decided just to go. Upon examining the house two days ago, I’d also examined the garage and saw the Cayenne which Edwina told me Lucien had bought for me. I could sell the Cayenne for a shed load of money.
Upon thoroughly searching and eventually asking Edwina, I found there were no keys. Lucien had taken them.
“He’s concerned about you, dear,” Edwina explained what she thought was the truth. “You weren’t steady on your feet yesterday. You need a bit of time to get settled in and it won’t help to go gallivanting around the countryside.”
After offering that pearl of wisdom, she flitted away.
I was glaring at her back while considering loading the silver in a pillowcase and hitchhiking to the nearest town when the next thing happened.
The doorbell rang and Edwina and I both reached it at the same time. Me hoping it was my aunties or better yet, my Mom. Edwina knowing who it was.
It was two men who came bearing lots and lots of boxes.
Edwina was obviously expecting this and although she acted a little bit weirded out about it but didn’t share why, she started to order them around as to where the boxes went.
When the men took some into the bedroom, I followed them and Edwina was waiting for them in the dressing room. Without hesitation she tore one open and started to pull out the things in the box.
The things in the box, by the way, were men’s clothes. Expensive, well-tailored, designer-label men’s clothes that looked like they would fit Lucien.
There were a lot of clothes.
I wandered out of the dressing room and down the stairs and saw other boxes were being placed in other rooms. Mostly the study.
I stood amongst this hubbub, perplexed.
Was he moving in?
I mean, I was pretty certain Rafe didn’t live with Lana. I was equally pretty certain that Duncan didn’t live with my cousin Natalie.
By the way, I’d learned Natalie’s (my favorite cousin) vampire’s name was Duncan after my Selection, when I learned all my cousin’s vampire’s names. I had six cousins, four of them Selected, two of them not yet.
All of them, I was pretty certain, didn’t live with their vampires.
Furthermore, I was sure my mother didn’t live with Cosmo.
As I was standing in the hall watching the men go back out to their truck to get even more boxes, Stephanie waltzed in the opened door.
She looked fantastic in a royal blue satin blouse and matching skirt that fit her like a second skin and hit her at her knees. Her high-heeled, royal blue, strappy sandals were, no other words for it, the bomb.
As a woman, regardless of my current tumultuous state-of-being, I couldn’t stop myself from crying, “I love your outfit!”
She put her hands out and smiled. “Fab, isn’t it? We’ll get Lucien’s card and I’ll take you to the shop where I got it, kit you out.”
My pleasure at her outfit disappeared and I wrinkled my nose.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
She got close, her brows drawn, a small smile playing at her mouth. “Why’s that?”
“I don’t want anything from Lucien,” I announced grandly.
For some unhinged reason this made her laugh out loud like I was hilarious.
Then, eyes on me, she whispered, “God, I envy him.”
Boy, vampires were weird.
Suddenly something occurred to me and I looked out at the blazing sun Stephanie had just walked through to get to the house.
“You can’t be in the sun!” I shouted and it sounded like an accusation.
She asked through a chuckle, “What?”
“You,” I stated, pointing at her, “just walked through the sun.” I pointed out the door before dropping my hand. “I thought sunshine was deadly to vampires.”
Confusion washed through her face before she muttered to herself, “Vampire Studies aren’t what they used to be.”
“I was expelled,” I divulged.
Her beautiful blue eyes widened then she threw back her head and laughed, uproariously I might add, all the while coming toward me and sliding her arm around my waist. She moved me forward into the family room where she seated us facing on the couch.
“Vampires are human,” she told me.
I waved my hand between us and said, “I know that. Lucien explained that last night.”
“Sun isn’t deadly to us.”
I didn’t know that but I didn’t share mainly because she already knew I didn’t know that from my reaction.
She went on, “We were nocturnal, back in the day. That’s how that rumor got started.”
“Oh,” I said just for something to say.
This made sense. Actually it all made sense which was a little disappointing. I’d prefer it was dark magic or something sinister and evil. It would give me something else to put in my Why I Hate Lucien Vault.
“So, you obviously aren’t nocturnal now,” I remarked.
“Some still keep to the old ways.” She leaned in and grinned. “Personally, I never wake up before at least noon.” We heard the men come back in. She looked over her shoulder at the door then at me and asked, “What’s with the boxes?”
“It appears Lucien is moving in,” I replied, unable to hide my distaste for this idea.
She looked over her shoulder at the door again and again mumbled under her breath, “He sure doesn’t waste any time.”
“Waste any time what?” I asked.
She looked back to me and answered, “I’ll let Lucien explain it.”
I shook my head. “Stephanie, no disrespect, but I’d rather you did the explaining.”
Her eyes softened and she said quietly, “I take it things aren’t going well between you two.”
“Nope,” I replied instantly.
“Did he not feed?” she asked, sounding slightly incredulous.
“Yep. He fed,” I shared. “Things got out of hand and he forgot to anesthetize me,” I waved my hand in the air, “or whatever.”
I watched her face shut down and realized it was to mask her reaction.
Then her hand came out and grabbed mine before she whispered in a voice that dripped compassion, “Oh honey.”
At her words and the tone in which they were uttered I wanted to cry. I really did. She obviously understood even if it was from her viewpoint, not the victim’s. It was good sitting across from someone, even someone I barely knew, who understood.
But I didn’t cry. I felt the tears welling but I held them back. It took a lot out of me but I fucking well did it.
She watched my struggle and when I’d come out victorious she gave my hand a firm squeeze.
“You need to get drunk,” she declared, taking her hand away.