Of course, explaining the importance of proper plumbing maintenance to a woman who’d died back when bathwater was heated via stovetop was a surefire way to get an eyeroll-inducing lecture about unrealistic expectations and counting it a blessing to live in a beautiful mansion for less than the cost of a weekend stay at a Motel 6. How Posy knew the going rates at a Motel 6 was beyond me.
When I started to prune, I reluctantly turned off the spray and wrapped up in a thick white towel, surprised to find it perfectly warmed. I sighed happily as I realized the bar to the side of the shower was heated. “Now, this I could get used to,” I said, wiping a small circle in the layer of steam on the large mirror. “If I have to marry one of these vamps, it might as well be the one with the heated towels and fancy car.”
I smiled at my reflection but the reality of the bargain I’d struck with my father hit me full force, taking the smile right off my face. Regret bit into me, but I quickly brushed it off. Deal or not, there was no way my father was going to let me off the hook. I should be happy. I’d managed to get the unyielding baron to compromise when it came to Jupiter. Compromise wasn’t usually a word in his vocabulary.
I’d spend a literal eternity shackled to some random vampire, but at least I’d been able to help Jupe.
That is, assuming they found her.
“No,” I said, snapping at myself. “When they find her. She’s still alive.”
Dark thoughts encroached on me and I hurried to turn on my hairdryer, using the full-blast setting to drown them out.
Twenty minutes later, I managed to get my hair back into a shiny, platinum sheet. I applied a little makeup, changed into a pair of dark-wash jeans, a lightweight sweater, and a pair of low heels, and went downstairs.
Matthias sat on the couch, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, staring at a tablet in one hand through a pair of black-framed glasses. His other hand was wrapped around a large white mug, balancing it against his leg. He glanced up when I cleared my throat and offered a tight smile. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I replied.
When was the last time I woke up at the same time as someone else? Back in Beechwood, my roommates would be in the middle of their day by the time I got up, which usually meant an empty house. Well, except for Adam St. James, the shifter. He ran some kind of nerdy computer business from his bedroom and was usually hanging around, but he only came out to make a run to the kitchen for snacks.
A pang in my stomach made me grimace. Was it possible I actually missed the obnoxious shifter?
Nah. I was probably just hungry.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a vampire who drinks coffee,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the acidic scent.
Matthias laughed softly and hoisted up the mug. “You should try it sometime. It’s good. Especially when you lace it with a bottle of AB negative.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He smiled and drank deeply.
“My roommate back in—” I stopped myself, wondering if it was wise to give him details of where I’d been before the summoning. I dismissed the momentary anxiety with a flap of my hand. It wasn’t like Matthias cared where I’d been, and now that my father made it clear he knew my hide out, I’d never be able to return again.
“Back in?” Matthias said, his voice gentle even as he raised his brow.
I gave my head a slight shake. “I used to live with a witch who worked at a coffee shop. She always came home smelling of the stuff.”
“Ah.” He studied me over the brim of the mug and then set it aside on the glass table beside the couch. “What was that like? Living with a witch?”
An unexpected laugh bubbled from my lips. “Interesting, to say the least. This particular witch has a penchant for stumbling into every wrong-place, wrong-time scenario you could imagine, and we all had to come together to bail her out.”
“We all?”
Nodding, I rounded the couch and took a seat in one of the high-back chairs sitting adjacent. “It was essentially a halfway house for paranormals living outside the havens.”
Matthias’s eyebrows climbed another half an inch. “I thought your father might have been exaggerating on that point. But you were actually living in the human world?”
I laughed again. “Yes. And I somehow lived to tell the tale. Honestly, I don’t know why that’s so scandalous. It’s not all that different from living in a haven. Sure, there are no underground tunnels, so daylight hours are pretty dang boring, but otherwise … it’s the same.”
“I wasn’t—” he stopped, apparently thinking better of whatever he’d been about to say. “I don’t think it’s scandalous. I’m just … surprised, that’s all.”
I tucked my feet up underneath me and sighed. “I imagine the entire Court would be scandalized if they knew where I’d been all this time. My Aunt Gemma wrote to me while I was gone. According to her, my father played it off like he’d sent me to some recovery day spa in Iceland. You know, to heal me from my psychotic break. I guess that was the only way to explain my rejection of the esteemed Lord Gowen.”
A grin crept across Matthias’s lips. “That’s right. You’re the famous runaway bride.”
I frowned at him. “It wasn’t like I left the guy at the altar.”
“No. You’re right. It was much kinder. What was it again? Twelve hours before?”
My scowl deepened. “This is funny to you?”
“A little,” he replied, nodding. “I went to school with Gowan. Let’s just say the only reason the yearbook said most likely to succeed was because most pompous jerk wasn’t available as a category.”
I snorted. “So, it wasn’t just me?”
Matthias shook his head. “He was a special kind of … something. I can’t say it broke my heart when I heard he got jilted in front of the entire Court.”
“Well, my father wasn’t quite as pleased about the whole thing.”
“Hence the banishment.”
“Eh, yes and no.” I cocked my head. “That was more voluntary than anything else.”
Matthias’s smile faded and his eyebrows peaked again. “Really?”
“Leaving before the wedding was strike two and I didn’t want to stick around to see what would happen once I hit strike three.”
“Melanie was strike one,” he said, more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah.”
Dropping my eyes, I noticed the HH emblem on his chest. “You got a whole closet of those shirts or something?”
He glanced down at himself, as though he’d forgotten what he was wearing. He grimaced and then looked back up at me. “Not a closet, but there’s probably at least a drawer full of them.”
I laughed. “Why?”
He sighed. “My mother gets shirts for every member of Hartford House every year before our annual family retreat. We go to our property in Connecticut and spend the weekend. The shirts are kind of a requirement. I don’t even know where she gets them.”
“She must be a Pinterest enthusiast,” I said, smiling at the cranky expression on his face.
“What’s a Pinterest?” Matthias asked.
I flapped a hand. “Never mind.”
“I don’t know why I keep them, to be honest,” he continued. “I guess they remind me of good times.”
“You’re lucky. If the entire Vaughn House got together for a weekend retreat, I can almost guarantee there would be body bags involved.”
“Yikes.”
I nodded. “Everyone wants a piece of the East Court and they all battle each other to try to get in my father’s good graces.”
“What you said last night, about not wanting the Court, was that sincere?”
I scoffed. “Well, for starters, it’s not an option available to me. So, what’s the point in wanting it?”
Matthias frowned. “You’re next in line. Aren’t you?”
A cold smile turned up the corners of my mouth. “Technically, yes. But there’s no way the Court would recognize me on my own. Not without an heir. I would have to fight and scrap for every ounce of respect and I don’t want it badly enough to even try.”