Night's Honour(25)
“Of course,” Xavier told her. “He’ll be delighted to see you.”
“How wonderful all the way around,” Justine said, giving him a venomous look. She linked her arm through one of Melisande’s. “I’ll come too, shall I?”
Frustration made him grit his teeth. He didn’t want Justine anywhere near his property. Not only had he just taken on an unschooled attendant, but he also had five trainees whose names and faces were virtually unknown, and he meant to keep their identities hidden. Also, for every good word he might try to put in with Melisande about dealing with Julian, Justine would be whispering poison in her other ear.
“I don’t recommend that,” he said to Justine. “A visit to my home might not be good for your health.”
“But why ever not?” Justine opened her eyes wide, while Melisande tilted her head, her expression sharpening.
While Melisande wasn’t stupid, she also didn’t understand the full scope of the tensions within the Nightkind demesne at the moment, and now wasn’t the time to enlighten her. Staring at Justine, he waited the merest heartbeat to let his threat sink in.
Then he smiled and said, “I don’t have a total house shutdown at sunrise, and I know many Vampyres have a problem with that.”
A look of revulsion flickered over Justine’s perfect features. “Don’t tell me you have one of those revolving systems.”
“I do, indeed.”
Melisande said, “Justine, please don’t feel obligated to come if it’s going to make you uncomfortable.”
“Nonsense,” said Justine. Her gaze met Xavier’s with a clash that was almost audible. “Pass up the chance to see inside our reclusive Xavier’s private retreat? I wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Xavier grimly.
Both Melisande and Justine left to make last-minute arrangements. Xavier texted Raoul as he waited.
Prepare for houseguests until sundown tomorrow. All trainees need to stay in total seclusion.
Raoul responded almost immediately. Who’s coming?
Melisande and Justine. Trade negotiations with the Light Fae have been suspended for the night. You have a half hour to get ready.
A pause.
Then Raoul texted back: Bloody hell.
* * *
By the time Tess had unpacked her suitcases and set them on the floor of the closet, a knock sounded at her door and she went to answer it.
Outside in the hall, a short man stood holding a dinner tray. He had an intense gaze and appeared to be in his sixties. According to his looks, he could be older than Raoul, but of course that would depend on how old he had been when he had become Xavier’s attendant.
He gave her a nod. “I’m Jordan. I do the cooking. Raoul asked me to bring you a supper tray.”
“Hi, I’m Tess.” She took the tray, staring at the food. The main dish was covered, but the side plates weren’t. One plate contained a green salad with a variety of different colored beets and a simple olive oil dressing. The other small plate held a slice of carrot cake. There was also a small green bottle of Perrier, another small, unopened individual bottle of wine, and silverware wrapped in a linen napkin. The scent of roast chicken coming from the covered dish made her mouth water. “This is fantastic. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Jordan hesitated. “We’re all night owls and tend to stay up late, so you’ll have to speak up if the music or the TV bothers you.”
She shook her head. “Thanks for the warning, but I’m a pretty hardy sleeper.”
Usually. When she wasn’t having nightmares of being endlessly tortured by a vengeful Djinn.
“I’ll let the others know. Bon appetit.”
As he left, she pushed the door shut with one foot, carried the tray to the bed and removed the lid from the main plate to reveal succulent slices of moist roast chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy and dressing. Real, homemade food.
She dove in and didn’t come up for air until all of it was gone.
As the nutrition hit her system, it gave her a burst of energy and the fog cleared from her mind. Gathering up the tray, she took it downstairs to the large, well-appointed kitchen, washed her dishes and found the appropriate drawers and shelves for everything except for the tray itself and her used linen napkin. After some hesitation, she left those on one end of the counter.
Then she went exploring, and ran into a large number of young men engaged in a variety of activities. Some watched TV and a few played Ping-Pong in the large family-style room in the basement.
Still more worked on laptops, although she never got a glimpse of what was on any of their screens. To a person, they closed their laptops before she got too close.