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Her lips barely move. “Okay.”
I leave the bathroom, and the minute I’ve closed the bedroom door and am heading downstairs, my body tenses hearing Clara greet the others who I did not expect this soon. I blow out a breath and go downstairs to meet the crew that Descallia has brought with him to help us find the rogues.
Overmaster Descallia is handing his long, dark wool overcoat to Clara, who has managed to fill the hall closet with the coats of the other guests. My eyes scan the small group. Some of whom I know and a few that I don’t. Descallia isn’t usually a man of many words, and he doesn’t waste them now. “You know Lucianna.” He doesn’t bother with a title; everyone knows that she is his and will soon be the queen who sits by his side, ruling over all the pureblooded vampires with the exception of the rogues. Descallia points down the line. “Silver, Clay, Terrance, Romano and Raven, Campania and Willow, and Sardinia and Madria. Lucas and Embry will be here later. They had a few things to take care of before leaving.
I watch the woman who is with Sardinia with interest, recalling what Catina said about a woman named Madria and a stone. The one hanging around her neck gives off the slightest glow and her fingers nestle around it every once in a while, as though it gives her comfort. “Welcome. I’ll let Clara get you settled into the guest rooms and meet you in an hour in the great room. Clara, can you show our guests to the area on the way up, please?”
“Certainly.” Her shrewd eyes follow me, not leaving my back until I’ve made it to the kitchen where my personal chef and his entourage are already busy preparing fare for our guests while Clara’s normal staff bustle work among them. “I need chicken broth. Do we have that?” I ask to no one in particular.
All eyes look up at me at once. I get the feeling that each is reassessing my question, wondering if it’s directed at them while not one of them answer my fucking question. “I just need broth. That’s good for someone who is sick, right?” I march toward the refrigerator and pull it open, scouring it for something that will work. The head chef taps me on the shoulder. “Over here. I think you’ve caused quite a stir coming into the kitchen unannounced.”
I scowl. “It’s my kitchen.”
His eyebrows raise, and his floppy chef’s hat tilts to the side and he gives me a cheeky grin. “An uncommon occurrence, no?” He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead leads me down the crowded marble food prep area in the center of the room that’s filled with different pots and bowls of mixture. He lifts the lid, and the fragrant aroma of chicken, thyme and bay leaves fills the air.
I smile. “That I recognize. That’s what I want. A bowl, a big bowl. I have a guest upstairs who doesn’t appear to have eaten a decent meal in a while. She needs to gain her strength.”
He laughs. “Of course, sir.” He ladles it into a bowl, adding hearty chunks of chicken, vegetables, and noodles to the mix. If it’s too much, she doesn’t have to eat anything but the broth, but if she hasn’t eaten for so long, it may be just what the doctor ordered, yes?”
He dumps the entire bowl he just ladled into a different container and then puts a lid on the top. “To keep it warm, and to keep it from spilling all over you on your way up.”
A giggle in the corner raises my eyes to the woman at the end of the table chopping vegetables. I’ve seen her helping Clara many times before, but I don’t even know her name or that of any of the other ten people working frantically to prepare meals for all the guests I’ve invited with less than a day’s notice. “Thanks for your help, everyone. I know the guests will enjoy everything that you prepare. I appreciate all you are doing on such short notice.”
Smiles gather on the faces all around the room. For some reason that makes me feel better about not knowing anyone’s damn name or not one personal thing about any of them. Even though I’m at a loss to why suddenly it fucking should.
I head upstairs and turn left to the far wing of the house, knowing the others are already on the opposite wing. I almost walk right in, but think better of it at the last moment, giving the door a quick wrap of announcement and wait until Catina’s soft voice tells me to come in.
The dark-haired beauty is covered to the waist as she sits up in bed, her head resting against my headboard while her hair spills around over her shoulders and lies at her chest. Clara is folding another comforter, settling it around the end of the bed.
Clara turns and gives me a wink. I don’t know what life would be like without the woman who takes care of everything. “The others are all settled?” I ask.
She gives me a smile and a flash of her eyes. “They are adults. I showed them the way to the wing, told them to pick their room, and to meet us downstairs in the large marble floored room with the fireplace to the right of the stairs in an hour.”
I smile my appreciation for the woman who has become more like family than anything in the centuries that she’s been with me. “Thanks, Clara.”
In less time than it took me to scrounge up a bowl of soup from my own kitchen she has managed to do all that, clean Catina up, dressed her in a frilly long sleeve nightgown that looks oddly like one that Clara wears when she reads downstairs early in the morning and thinks no one else is awake or around. I clear my throat. “Glad to see you all tucked in and comfortable. I brought you some soup.”
Clara bustles toward me and reaches out as though to take it from my hand. Usually, I would give it to her, usually I wouldn’t have even gone to get it, or even thought to go and get it, yet something deep inside is not about to give Clara this bowl of soup, because I fully intend to feed the little enchantress myself. “I’ve got things covered here, if you want to see to our guests.”
Her eyes lift, ever so slightly having never seen another living sole in this bedroom, or me take care of anyone in all the centuries we’ve been together. Clara gathers up the clothes that Catina arrived in and heads to the door. “Rest well,” she says to our guest.
The door closes softly behind me as I bend and settle on the right side of my bed, sitting next to her before lifting the plastic cover from the dish. The aroma of freshly chopped chicken, carrots, and what I’m positive are homemade noodles flavored with thyme, bay leaves, rosemary, sea salt and cracked pepper all mingle together and permeate through the air. Just the smell alone makes even me hungry. “A bite?” I ask.
Her eyes watch me warily; the enchanting young woman watches my every slight movement next to her but nods in response to my question without hesitation. I spoon a little of the broth into the silver engraved handled spoon, bringing it closer to her mouth. She wraps her dainty lips around the spoon and takes my offering, making a low throaty groan that causes my dick to harden.
I shift on the bed as she swallows, following the movement of the broth down her long and smooth neck. The faint yellowing of fingers that pressed into her throat are a quick reminder of what she’s been through, why she’s in the condition she is, and why she’s not going back.
“Would you like some of the chicken, the vegetables?” I ask.
“Yes, please. I’m hungrier than I thought. Thank you.” Her voice is light and melodious like a caress on the wind, attractive in sound just like everything else about her. No matter her age or the gap, my dick has taken notice of everything about the young woman who sits in my bed.
I spoon a small mixture of hearty ingredients and bring it to her cupid shaped lips. She takes it again, and chews, closing her eyes as she savors the mixture of hearty nourishment. I continue to feed her, picking a few of the meatier morsels and bringing them to her lips with my fingers. Her little moans of appreciate turn my dick to absolute stone while she finishes her meal.
Catina swallows her last bite and opens her eyes. “Thank you for everything—for taking care of me, for the meal, for everything. I already feel so much better. I should really go.” She looks around my room, and then at me, her cheeks turning a healthy and deliciously sinful little pink. “I can’t explain this,” she gestures around the room. “I can’t explain being here like this to my father, to my brothers. They won’t understand that it was innocent and not some sordid affair.”
My jaw clenches tightly, holding back my thoughts about her no-good family, but it’s no use because the decision has already been cemented in my mind. The minute her face turned ashen from whatever vision she saw, the minute I stopped her from hitting the floor, felt her in my arms, held her hair as she heaved, most certainly the minute I saw her in my bed and most definitely the minute she ate from fingers. This was only going to end one way for the lovely beauty.
I stand, feeling the need to distance myself as I tell her that the world as she knows it no longer exists. “You saw the rogues and shifters in your vision. You’re not going anywhere. You’ll help us find the bastards who plague us throughout the land. You’re under my protection now.”
