She ground her teeth a moment before she replied, “It looks like a pretty serious precaution to me.”
“Of course it is. Justine has never been here before, and she’s dangerous, but trust me, Xavier is too. She’ll have two attendants, but we have twelve people, all of whom know how to handle themselves, except for you. Plus the Light Fae princess will be here, along with her attendants and bodyguards. It would be very foolish for Justine or any of her people to get violent. In fact, it would be tantamount to a public declaration of civil war. Frankly, the greatest risk is for her to try to mesmerize one of us and pump us for information.”
Tapping a foot, she thought through what Marc had said. He sounded intelligent and remarkably educated, and he’d certainly delivered a good, concise overview of the situation, but something didn’t add up.
If everyone—except her—knew how to handle themselves, why did they all have to stay hidden behind closed windows and doors? If they were using this as a rationale, shouldn’t she be the only one who needed to be cloistered?
But she didn’t want to question Marc too closely, or come across as too challenging. He wasn’t in charge and he hadn’t created the rules. He was only telling her what he was supposed to, and she didn’t want to start an argument on her first night.
“Fine,” she said. “Raoul said you guys would go over protocol with me.”
“It’s simple,” Marc told her. “It’s standard protocol for everyone to be armed when a hostile entity is on the property. When you’re trained and this comes up again, you’ll be armed too. Raoul said senior staff will handle this, so we stay in, lock up the house, and we don’t invite anybody in. No Vampyres, and no visiting humans. Nobody gets inside. We close all the window coverings, and we keep them shut—day and night—until we’re told we can open them again. Aside from that, we sit tight and relax.”
“Relax,” she said.
“There’s nothing else for us to do.” He shrugged. “It’s a situation. It’s being handled by people who know what they’re doing.”
While they had been talking, one of the other men—Tess couldn’t remember his name, Scott or Brian—had been keeping watch out the front window.
He said, “They’re here.” Tess joined the others as they peered out. Three gleaming vehicles, all of them black, pulled into the parking lot, and several people climbed out.
Xavier was immediately apparent, with his slim figure and erect carriage. He walked toward the second vehicle as a tall, striking blonde woman climbed out along with two other Light Fae. The woman was dressed in a dark-colored, elegantly cut suit, while her silvery high heels caught the light and sparkled.
Recognition struck. Tess felt like reality took a sharp skid sideways, sending her hurtling into a dream. She murmured faintly, “Is that Melisande Aindris, the actress? Didn’t she star in that zombie movie They Ate New York?”
Marc glanced at her. “Yes. Her mother, the Light Fae Queen, owns Northern Lights Studios.”
“I knew that,” she muttered. “I just forgot.”
Three more figures emerged from the third vehicle. Tess recognized one of them as well, the beautiful redhead who had kept her female attendant on a leash at the Vampyre’s Ball.
“And there’s Justine,” said Marc.
The redheaded woman spun in a slow circle, looking around the property. As she turned toward the attendants’ house, Marc snapped the blinds closed.
“Show’s over. The blinds and curtains stay shut now, until we get the all clear.” Marc looked at Tess. “You know, you might as well go to bed. As far as we’re concerned, nothing else is going to happen tonight.”
Bristling at the thought of being sent to bed like a child, Tess lingered downstairs for close to an hour, but the others settled down to watch TV or open their laptops again. The only difference from earlier was that they did so with weapons close to hand.
Eventually inactivity allowed for exhaustion to creep back in. It weighed down her limbs and eyelids, until she muttered a good night to the others and went up to her room.
Troubled, she put on a nightshirt that came to the top of her thighs, brushed her teeth, poured a glass of water and climbed into bed.
All of her instincts felt askew.
Who was the monster now? Justine, Xavier, or both?
Certainly they were both old, dangerous and incomprehensible to her, but while they might be enemies, that didn’t make one of them good and the other one evil. It was possible, even likely, that they were simply two different kinds of evil.
While she tried to puzzle it out, a black tide crept over her and washed it all away, and for a few hours she forgot all her fears and uncertainties.
Then her nightmares returned. First one of her foster fathers, the one who had loved to swing his belt, chased her around a huge, shadowy house. Then Malphas appeared to greet her with an angelic smile.
“Tess.” He strolled toward her. “You know how this story ends.”
“No,” she said.