Everything after that was a blur, except for an explosion of pain as her head had slammed into concrete. That would have bled copiously she supposed. Head wounds always bled badly. Her head felt fine now too, though. It was only her stomach bothering her.
Inez slid her legs to the side and eased up into a sitting position, her movements slow and steady to prevent waking Thomas.
She sat still on the side of the bed for a moment, waiting to see if she would be suddenly struck by dizziness or pain. When neither happened, she got carefully to her feet, surprised to find her legs a bit shaky. They held her up, though, and worked well enough, she found, as she stepped away from the bed. Inez had nearly reached the door, guided by the crack of light seeping under it, when she realized she was buck naked.
Grimacing, she tried to think where her suitcase would be in relation to the door. Inez doubted Rachel and Etienne would appreciate her traipsing through the house starkers.
But the longer Inez stood there in the dark, the better she could see, at least enough to make out vague shapes in the room. Supposing the slim line of light creeping under the door was helping, she moved to the suitcase lying open on the floor. Inez intended to put on clothes, but came across the silk robe first and allowed her hunger to convince her to slip it on instead and then stood and moved back to the door again. Her hunger pangs were getting stronger with every passing minute and she was eager to raid the refrigerator.
The house was silent and empty when she descended the stairs and Inez wondered if Rachel and Etienne were still sleeping, but the lights would probably be off if they hadn’t already gotten up. They must have gone out, she thought as she walked up the hall to the kitchen.
The light in the kitchen seemed to be the only one not on in the house. Inez flicked it on as she entered, her feet taking her straight to the refrigerator. She pulled it open and looked over the contents with interest. There was a lot in there, but most of it needed to be cooked and she was too hungry to wait. Spotting some cheese, she picked it up and then grabbed a scotch egg, closed the refrigerator door, and carried the food to the counter. The kettle was half full, so she pushed down the button to start it heating.
Inez then grabbed a plate from the cupboard, opened the plastic wrapping on the Scotch egg and spilled it out. The moment it hit the plate, she set the wrapping down, grabbed the sausage-wrapped egg and took a bite out of it. Inez preferred them warmed up, but they were edible cold and she was too hungry even to take the time to microwave it.
Chewing and swallowing, she turned her attention to the cheese, but it didn’t open as easily as the egg packaging. Scowling, she moved to the end drawer and pulled it open. Inez reached in to retrieve a knife, but paused when a slight breeze brushed against her cheek. She looked up, her heart skittering with alarm when she saw that the back door was cracked open.
Dropping the small paring knife she’d originally reached for, Inez grabbed a large butcher knife instead. She didn’t pull it out of the drawer, but simply clutched it in her fingers as her gaze slid over the edge of the door, noting that the lock was broken. The door had been forced.
A shuffling sound from behind made her swivel slowly, her hand remaining in the drawer, still clutching the butcher knife as she turned to peer toward the archway leading into the hall. Some part of her wasn’t terribly surprised to find the blond, bearded immortal standing there. Her gaze skimmed over his black clothes and overcoat.
“You healed quickly,” he commented, his gaze sliding over her in the pink silk robe. “I was sure the leg was broken.”
“I thought so too,” she admitted, peering down at her legs hidden by the robe. She tugged the robe up slightly, with her free hand, revealing her perfectly healthy lower calf. Inez then turned the leg slightly, using it as an excuse to shift slightly to the side, enough that it hid her hand as she slid it out of the drawer, bringing the butcher knife with it. “I gather it was just dislocated, though.”
His gaze slid back up to her face, one eyebrow raised. “And the head wound?”
“They always bleed a lot. Fortunately, it isn’t troubling me much today,” she said calmly, thinking how bizarre this all felt. She was having a perfectly civil conversation with a man who had repeatedly attacked her. Clearing her throat, Inez asked, “Was it you who controlled me in Amsterdam too?”
He shook his head. “That was someone else.”
She nodded, but frowned. “Why?”
“I’d guess because the boss ordered it,” he said simply.
“But why me?” Inez asked.
“I have no idea why he did it, but my orders were to keep you and Thomas here in York and off Marguerite’s trail…to kill you both if necessary to accomplish it.” He shrugged. “You keep thinking up other places to look.”