Page 96 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

The door to the suite opened, and Gwendoline sauntered in. Dressed in high-waisted, pinstripe pants, knee-high boots, and some sort of renaissance bodice with corseting and puffy sleeves, she should have looked like a pretentious idiot, but instead she looked like she’d strutted here all the way from a high-end fashion runway. That feeling in my chest grew stronger.

“I guess not everyone was worried about me,” I said under my breath.

Too late, I remembered the goddamn vampire super-hearing. Gwendoline looked at me with the barest hint of a smirk on her perfect porcelain face.

“So good to see you up and about,” she said, her voice as smooth and sweet as artificial maple syrup. “Terribly sorry I couldn’t hang around your bedside waiting for you to recover, but I had things to do. I was certain you’d bounce back, of course. You seem so… robust.”

I bared my teeth at her in what some people would probably interpret as a smile, but only if they’d never seen one before. “Gee, thanks.”

“I just got back from a minor court matter, you see,” she carried on, completely ignoring the fact that I was making a face like a rabid baboon. “I picked up some useful tidbits, but if you all don’t mind, I’d like to freshen up and change before I share them. Gorgeous as the ’98 Dior is, it isn’t exactly suited for lounging around and scheming. Gabriel, do you still have the robe I left behind last time I spent the night?”

I turned the diseased baboon grimace on Gabriel, and he actually took a full step back.

“Er…” he said, looking back and forth between Gwendoline and me.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said breezily, brushing past him. “I’m sure I’ll find it. You generally leave my things in the same part of your walk-in closet. You’ve always been such a creature of habit.”

My jaw was starting to ache, and I was probably doing serious damage to my molars with how hard I had my teeth clenched.

“Last time she spent the night?” I asked Gabriel. My tone was just as sweet as Gwendoline’s had been, but a little more from the candy-with-razor-blades-in-it side of things. Magic crashed through me, and the fire began to burn brighter in the grate. I was so mad, I was almost giddy with it. It was like that little voice that popped into my head when I was driving on an empty highway; the one that said: Floor it. Let’s see how fast this sucker can really go.

“Well. That is. I mean. Gwen—Gwendoline—and I, we’ve… we’ve known each other for a long time, and, well, occasionally we’ve—really just as a matter of convenience, you understand, it’s never been?—”

“You do know just what to say to make a girl feel special,” Gwendoline drawled as she swept back into the room. She’d swapped out her top for a kimono-style wrap made of black silk, belted loosely enough to show off a triangle of pale chest. She paused for a moment next to Gabriel. They looked infuriatingly good together, both tall, dark, and stunning. I could feel my hair starting to flop out of its braid. The bandage on the middle of my chest was starting to get sticky. I wanted to pick the scabs off everything and clean out the wounds underneath.

“You said you had information for us,” Gabriel said.

“And I do.” She stepped away from him and sat elegantly in a large wing-back chair, glancing around the room to make sure she had everyone’s attention. I sneered. As if she didn’t already know that every goddamn eye was on her.

“Lord De Montclair wasn’t at the council meeting,” she began. “The official story, as provided by his second in command, is that his lordship and his wife had a personal matter that needed seeing to, and that Lady De Montclair may have to spend some time away to ensure it is properly taken care of.”

Gabriel nodded and began to pace in front of the fire. I glanced around the room, a little awkwardly. All the seats around the table had been taken, which left the piano bench in the corner as the only remaining spot. If I sat there, it would put me solidly outside the circle. Or I could drag it over. Or I could just keep standing where I was, awkward and out of place.

“Sterling—Damien Sterling,” Gwendoline clarified, briefly directing her attention at the witches, “is Lord De Montclair’s right-hand man.”

“And a potential asset,” I cut in.

Gwendoline inclined her head smoothly. “I was getting there, yes. Anyway, according to Sterling, if anyone has immediate business with Lord De Montclair, he’ll be briefly available tonight at one of his properties in the Garden District.”

“The Tranquility Pavilion,” Gabriel said. “It’s where he always goes to rest.”

“Precisely,” Gwendoline said.

“What time tonight?” I asked.

“Six,” Gwendoline said. “But?—”

“Great.” Her perfect nose wrinkled with irritation when I cut her off. “That gives me plenty of time to get ready.”

“It would be foolish to rush off to confront him,” Gwendoline said levelly.

God, I wanted her to get mad. I wanted her to get in my face, to give me an excuse, any excuse, to throw a fucking punch. How dare she swan in here like she owned the place and tell me what to do?

“She’s right,” Gabriel said from his spot by the mantle.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m just saying, we know he’s weak. We need to hit him while we can.”

“Ah,” Gabriel said. “No. I meant that Gwendoline’s right.”

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