“I’m sorry, I—”
“You are shivering.” Marguerite frowned. “We must get you into the house.”
She couldn’t afford to show any signs of imbalance while here. Not with Grigori’s probation hanging over her head. She mustn’t give them any reason to doubt her ability to do her duty.
Marguerite waited at the door for her, and they went together through a heavy black door while Henri walked around to the trunk of the car for her baggage.
“It’s dark,” Eleni said. She kept her hand on the wall to keep from stumbling.
“This is the master’s passage. It’s shielded from sunlight. No windows. It leads from the garage to the main foyer. Or, if you take a right a little further down the corridor, it will take you to the kitchens. There is also a staircase a little farther down the passage and on the left. It leads up to the west wing of the house, where your bedroom will be.”
“How many people live here?”
“There is Julian and three members of his serving staff. You met Henri. He lives in the
gîte rural
not far from the chateau. There is also Giselle and Claudette. Claudette—she’s the main housekeeper and cook. If you need something, you will take it up with her before going to Julian. He’s often busy with the running of the vineyard. Although he has employed workers from the village to take care of the day labor, there is the business side of things he must attend to. But do not worry—Julian will sort it all out with you. It will all seem like second nature soon enough.”
Marguerite opened a door at the end of the passage and placed a hand on Eleni’s back, urging her to go through. Eleni stepped across the threshold and froze at the sight of a twin curved staircase off to her left. It seemed to embrace the enormous room. Behind the railing of the central balcony on the floor above, a stained glass window in jewel tones of blues, purples, reds, and greens depicted a sorrowful man in robes holding a book, a millstone around his neck. Around the figure were grapevines laden with fruit, and four ravens with ribbon banners unfurling from their mouths. A chill come over her when she looked into the disapproving eyes of the saint.
“St. Vincent of Saragossa,” Marguerite said, gesturing to the window. “He’s the patron saint of
vignerons
. In a way, he is the symbol of the Sévigné vineyards. The raven is a part of our family crest.” She tossed her handbag onto a heavy-limbed chair and started across the foyer in long, sure strides, her heels clicking over the chocolate marble.
“Julian!” she called out, her voice echoing through the house as she slipped into the shadowed hallway beneath the interior balcony. Eleni watched her go, overwhelmed by the house and a sudden feeling of ill omen. Heart racing, she watched the vampiress knock briefly before poking her head around a door. Muffled voices in French, then Marguerite leaned away from the door and looked straight at her, her eyes reflecting like two green rings in the shadows.
“Eleni, this way.” Marguerite’s voice echoed down the hall. Reluctantly, Eleni passed beneath the balcony and St. Vincent’s window to join the vampiress who waited for her outside a set of arched double doors.
“You can go in. He’s ready to see you.”
Eleni couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt so nervous. All her life she had been told tales of the mal vampires, the dangerous ones, the ill-bred or infirm ones, or the ones created too old to be aesthetically pleasing. Vampires that had been damaged in some way that made it impossible for them to heal. For whatever reason, they were not presentable in appearance for human or vampire society. Dominic had warned her that long ago Julian had been in a fire, burnt beyond recognition. It had taken him years to recover, but the healing had not been perfect. Even Dominic had not known the extent of his injuries, but Eleni had a good idea of how bad it must be if he hid himself away in this isolated chateau. Then again, when she entered the room, the only person sitting there was a man watching her from behind a large, teak desk. He did not look at all like a mal vampire.
Long hair the color of midnight draped over his shoulders, and his piercing gray eyes followed her as she came in to stand before him. He looked at her down a proud nose that gave him an air of regal distinction. She was immediately intimidated.
All this time she’d expected a monster, and this man was hardly that. She resisted the urge to glance around the room for someone else in case she had made a mistake.
He was gorgeous, dressed in an expensive black sweater. He eyed her with barely shielded disdain when Marguerite led her forward, her hands on her shoulders as if to present a teacher with a new star pupil.
“Julian, this is your new Acolyte, Eleni. We had a pleasant ride, I think.”
Eleni nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When he said nothing in response, Eleni threw a questioning glance at Marguerite. She tried again. “I’m grateful you have taken me into your household.”
“Gratitude implies that you are not to be held to the rules of my house. Let us get one thing straight right now—this arrangement is not a favor to you, or to your brother-in-law. Dominic gave you to me as a blood gift. To be used. And you will be used—just as you have used the security of my house to escape the superficial shame of the Vampire Council.”
Julian’s remark struck her like an open palm. A sharp silence fell across the room as her mind worked to formulate some response, some appropriate reaction that would not get her immediately thrown out of his house.
“Forgive me.” She struggled for words. “Dominic told me he worked out an arrangement with you. I assumed it was amicable.”
“One does not have to be amicable to transfer property.”
“I should go,” Marguerite said quietly.
Julian did not disagree with her. He remained silent, his eyes narrowed on Eleni as Marguerite bowed slightly and backed out of the room. She shut the door to the study, leaving the two of them alone. Eleni stood trembling in her coat, not knowing what to say or do. He hadn’t invited her to sit down. Had he already decided to send her away?
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t know what to say.”
Julian scoffed. “There is nothing to say. You have nowhere else to go,” he stated bluntly. “And yet, when I was talking to my cousin, I got the distinct impression that you felt it beneath you to go to the home of a mal vampire.”
She swallowed hard “I assure you that never once crossed my mind. Even if I’d had room for doubt, I know my brother-in-law wouldn’t send me anywhere objectionable.”
Julian’s dark laughter made her skin prickle. “He sent you to me, and I’m entirely objectionable,
ma chére
.” He raked his teeth across his lower lip, offering her a brief view of his fangs. “I have my own rules, and I couldn’t care less what society thinks of me, or you, for that matter. What I do care about is the running of my household. I am the only master here, and I do not care for drama.”
“Neither do I.”
“Your history tells me otherwise. Now here you are, set to enter a mal vampire’s household to try to preserve your rank. I suppose in some ways you must think you’re better than me, or that I am eternally stupid to take someone with an addiction into my house.”
A lump had risen in her throat. “You’re a vampire, I’m an Acolyte. I would never assume you to be of a lower rank than me.”
A thin smile stretched his lips. “How modest you are.”
She was ready to crack, ready to call Anya and Dominic and tell them she wanted to return to San Francisco. But, at the same time, she’d already brought tremendous shame on her family. She sighed. “I don’t want my shame to reflect on my sister,” she told him flatly. “I will do my part to fit in with your household. I only want to live in peace. I know immortality is permanently off limits to me, but I still have this life, and I just want to live…to be as happy as I can be with the time that I have. Surely, that’s not too much to ask.”
A mote of heat gleamed in his eyes for a fraction of a second, then it was gone. A trickle of unease flowed through her. Eleni was aware she’d somehow touched a nerve with him. Wary of her new Biter, she fell silent, and made a conscious decision to choose her words more carefully from now on. Better that, than give him more ammunition to hurt her with.
Confrontation stressed her out easily, a residual effect of Biter’s Addiction. Even this brief conversation with him left Eleni’s nerves frayed. Whatever she’d expected when she’d agreed to move to France, this was hardly the welcome she’d anticipated. Not only that, a dim throb nagged at her temples—a headache coming on. Julian Sévigné’s intense scrutiny was almost unbearable. The sooner she made it to a private room, the better.
“Tell me about your life with my cousin, Dominic,” he said, his shrewd expression a mask of curt impatience. “What role did you play in his household?”
“I stayed as Anya’s guest. You know he no longer houses a harem? Not since he joined with my sister, Anya, in the blood bond,” she said softly. “I believe they’re happy.” Or they would be now that they weren’t babysitting her. “I had no formal role while living with them. I stayed in one guest suites, and they employed a series of doctors, Biters, and nurses to help me get well. I’m sure Dominic told you all that when you spoke to him?”
“We talked only briefly, a phone call. A few emails. Besides, I wanted to hear it from you.”
“I can’t imagine what Dominic must’ve said to convince you to take me in.”
“He did nothing to convince me. I owe him my blood, and I believe that’s why he called me. He knew you were a gift I could not refuse.” Julian changed the subject. “Tell me, what did your sister think, you living in the same house as her husband?”
“I imagine there were times she thought…my presence was an inconvenience,” she admitted, then shook her head. “Even so, I doubt that had anything to do with Dominic. He never sponsored me. Why would it bother her? He was never my Biter.”
Julian squinted at her. “He never bit you? Not once?”
“Well, he…yes, but… It’s hard to explain. My sister called him in to help me. I was grieving at the time and…”
“With your addiction, you were beyond control.”
Her throat constricted. “Y-yes.”
“I see. You lived isolated from him, then?”
“Not isolated, although I did have a suite of rooms to myself. As I said, I lived with them as my sister’s guest.”
He folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward in a gesture of unbending authority. “You will not be living as a guest in my house, let us make this much clear. Be aware, I was sent a letter of disclosure from the Council regarding your condition. I’m well aware of the terms of your probation. You must prove that you can function as a lover and donor in a vampire household. Believe me when I say I will hold you to that. You are here for my pleasure, and from this moment forward, I expect you to take your duty seriously. Am I understood?”
She swallowed hard. “Completely.”
“Good.” He pushed his chair back and stood up and walked around his desk. Frozen to the spot, she watched him cross the room to the door. An overwhelming sense of misery curled inside her. She stood back, even when he reached the door and held it open for her.
He scoffed. “You look like a frightened mouse. I’m not scheming to bite you. ”
Eleni didn’t doubt that. The way Julian swept his gaze over her gave her the impression he’d rather eat a bulb of raw garlic than sink his fangs into her throat.
Chapter Three
Julian walked Eleni through the house, pointing out hallways, opening doors to elegant, lamp lit rooms. “You may come and go from the house as you please, but tell someone where you are going. Henri is on call in the evenings. If there’s somewhere you wish to travel during the day, you will have to make special arrangements.”
He didn’t stay in one place for longer than a moment.
At 5’11”, she was by no means a short woman, but Julian was taller than her by at least three inches. His broad shoulders filled the doorway to the sitting room at the front of the house. He allowed her to wander through the room a moment to look around before he waved her back into the hallway. On her way through the door, her body brushed against his, and for a moment, their eyes met over the unexpected contact. Eleni’s heartbeat accelerated. His body was warm and firm beneath the black sweater. She quickly looked away as heat blazed in her cheeks.
Without saying a word, he guided her across the grand foyer and through a swinging door to the kitchen.
“Claudette.”
A reed-thin, gray-haired woman stood at the sink, filling up a silver tea kettle. Once she’d finished what she was doing and set the kettle on the stove, she bustled across the room while drying her hands with the folds of her white apron. She flicked her gaze over Eleni before glancing up at Julian in question. “
Monsieur
…”
“My new lover, Eleni Audridov.”
“
Mademoiselle
.” Claudette nodded at her in a chilly greeting, and said in heavily accented English, “You would like some tea?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
The housekeeper murmured her acknowledgment, but before she could go back to her busywork, Julian called after her, “Claudette, do you know where I can find Gisele?”
“I’m here!” A young woman with a smoky voice bounded in through a side door carrying a basket of laundry on her hip. She was short and curvy, with warm brown eyes and a lion’s mane of tawny hair. She set the laundry basket on a scarred kitchen table. “You needed me?”
Julian opened his mouth to speak, but his cell phone cut him off with a trilling ring. Muttering an oath, he took out his phone, looked at the number, then turned away from them before bringing the phone to his ear.
“Hallo?” He raked a hand through his hair, and listened. He offered a curt reply in French, then lowered the phone from his ear and turned to Eleni. “I must take this call. Come to me at 3:00 AM sharp. I will be waiting in my office. For now, go with Giselle.” He laid his hand against Eleni’s lower back, urging her toward the young woman. Her skin tingled where his fingers splayed against her coat. Despite his tone of authority, his touch was surprisingly gentle.