“I don’t… he never…” She stopped then pivoted jerkily and walked briskly to the windows, throwing open the curtains as she wittered on. “This is unheard of, unprecedented. I don’t know what to say. I can’t even –”
“Edwina,” I cut her off.
She turned again and the minute her eyes hit me they grew so big, they nearly popped out of her head and she gasped. Loudly.
At the same time her hand flew to her mouth.
I knew I’d passed out before I’d been able to pull a comb through my hair and take off my heavy makeup but even what I knew was the sight of me the morning after her fervid ministrations couldn’t induce that response.
“What?” I asked in a frightened voice.
“Your throat,” she whispered from behind her hand.
My hand flew to my throat. It still felt that weird numb and Edwina’s horrified stare was making me strangely embarrassed.
I covered the area Lucien fed from last night and pushed up from the bed. I was still lightheaded but I fought it, put my feet on the floor, got up and headed to the bathroom.
My bedroom…
No. Strike that.
Lucien’s bedroom (I wasn’t going to claim anything he gave me) was the biggest bedroom I’d ever had. Painted a warm blush it had a king-sized bed covered in a decadent, fluffy, down comforter with a slightly darker blush, cotton-sateen cover with beautiful embroidery heavy at the bottom of the coverlet and snaking to lighter up the bed. Stacks of downy pillows of all sizes from king, to European to standard in cases and shams that ranged from the deepest to the most delicate blush adorned its head, some of them smooth, some of the embroidered. There was a chaise lounge in a corner covered in cream velvet, edged with gleaming dark, intricately carved wood. Positioned strategically next to its only arm was a small, ornate, circular table. Matching stately but comfy-looking armchairs, each with their own tall, plush, round, tassel-bottomed, button-topped ottomans were arranged in another corner. The chairs shared a carved wood table. A charming writing desk with a laptop computer and stylish desk accessories faced the room from the opposite corner to the chairs.
I didn’t see any of this.
Yesterday afternoon after I’d arrived, I’d inspected the entirety of the lavish cage Lucien had provided for me. I perused the six-bedroom house from top to bottom. Why he thought I’d need six bedrooms with a gigantic kitchen including breakfast nook and comfy seating area, a formal dining room, a sitting room, a living room, a family room, a study, four and a half baths… the list went on… I’d never know.
At that moment I didn’t want to know. All I could think about was my throat.
I went into the bathroom. Another huge room with two sinks, a big mirror, a large, blush-marbled tub set in a platform, under a stained glass window (if you can believe), separate shower cubicle with multiple heads (some on the walls) and the toilet had its own room.
I turned to the mirror and slowly, wincing slightly to prepare myself for the mutilation I’d see, took my hand from my throat.
Then I blinked.
There was only an insignificant, inch long, slightly glistening, pinkish scar.
“What on earth?” I whispered.
“I know,” Edwina said, materializing behind me. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” I gaped at the non-wound, remembering the tearing sensation last night, the pain, the powerful suction from Lucien’s mouth, “I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t believe it hasn’t healed,” Edwina breathed.
My eyes flew to hers in the mirror. “What?”
“It hasn’t healed. How can that be? They always heal before morning. Usually sooner.”
My mouth dropped open.
I snapped it shut moments before asking, “Are you joking?”
Her head quirked to the side. “Of course not. You know that.”
No, I didn’t know that.
I’d been expelled from blinkety-blank Vampire Studies and the time I’d been there I didn’t pay a lick of attention.
I moved away from the mirror, walking toward the huge dressing room that was on the opposite side to the bedroom.
This room was also enormous, the walls filled with rails, shelves, drawers and a full-length, three-way mirror. There was enough space to house the wardrobes of a family of five. It even included a lavish, built-in dressing table with dozens of drawers, a big mirror surrounded by Hollywood starlet lights and fronted by a blush-velvet padded stool. No kidding, the place was out of a movie.
Most of it was un-utilized as I’d only brought two suitcases and a carry-on with me. My mother and aunties were packing up whatever else I’d need to be shipped. Even when they did, it still wouldn’t fill the space and Lucien was seeing to the renting of my place while I was servicing him.
As I stormed into the dressing room, I announced, “I need to call my mother.”
I walked to the dressing table and had to put a hand out to steady myself. I was still feeling woozy and weak. I needed food. And, as much as I hated to give it to the guy, Lucien was right, I needed rest.
“Um…dear…” Edwina said behind me as I caught my breath, controlled the dizziness and reached for my purse to get my cell phone.
I ignored her and started digging through my purse.
“Dear…” Edwina called from closer.
“Where is it?” I muttered, “I’m sure it’s –”
“Leah,” Edwina said from beside me, “Lucien told me you weren’t to phone anyone.”
My head snapped up and I looked at her. “Sorry?”
“Direct orders. No calls.”
“Why not?” I asked.
She shrugged looking uncomfortable.
I looked back down at my purse and kept digging, “Well, he can order all he likes. I’m still going to –”
“You won’t find it. Lucien took your phone.”
My head snapped up again and I stared.
All I could do was stare. My heart had stopped beating which was pretty strange since my blood was boiling.
Finally I found my voice. “He took my phone?”
“Yes, and he told me to lock away all the others.”
“Did you?”
She nodded.
I straightened and faced her. “Well, unlock one.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Lucien would be angry.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped.
Her face grew pale. It didn’t take a mind reader to know she didn’t want to do anything that would make Lucien angry.