Page 39 of High Stakes

“No!” I yelled, sloshing water over the tub’s side as I sat up and reached out my arm. “Please. I’ll take care of it. I’ll clean it myself.”

Clutching her chest with the free hand, she laid my suit back on the bed gingerly.

“Can I have some privacy, please?”

Mrs. Kerry eyeballed the leather harness of stakes warily. “I suppose.” She looked over at the discarded dress and shawl left in a pile on the floor. “What about these? Do you want to wash them as well?”

I frowned. “I haven’t been wearing them long.”

Mrs. Kerry tsked, “But ye were dirty enough to soil them just by the wearing. Not to worry, I’ll find you something more suitable for dinner,” she supplied shakily.

She wasn’t a vampire. She wasn’t afraid of Enoch, but feared me. I couldn’t blame her, given the situation. People were overly superstitious in this time. She probably thought I was a witch. To them, I supposed I was. They didn’t understand the clothes I wore, why I behaved the way I did, or how I spoke.

I scrubbed the back of my hand and my tech illuminated underwater before the turquoise light faded and then shut off. I had a sinking feeling that what Titus did to link us would only work if my tech was functional, if it worked at all. And right now, even though he did his best to fix it, it worked less than fifty percent of the time. I brought my arm out of the water and used the heel of my opposite hand to hit it. It glowed, alive once again.

Tonight, Titus and I would dine with Enoch and Terah. I couldn’t begin to wrap my mind around that. Or that it was Enoch who took care of me, who brushed my sweaty hair off my forehead, cradled my head, and brought a cup of herbal tea to my lips.

Enoch, the monster I thought I knew, seemed so different. So gentle.

My tech died again as I sank deeper into the wooden tub. Deciding to ignore it for a while, I studiously washed my hair and skin, thankful to see the grime leave my body. Perched within reach of the tub, Mrs. Kerry had left a soft cloth to dry off with. Duly cleaned and dried, I attempted to tug on my tech suit – which was no easy task with damp skin. Then I strapped on my stakes and used the cloth to towel-dry my hair.

A few moments later, Mrs. Kerry returned with a richly colored garment folded over her arm. “I brought a dress for you, dear.” She smiled hesitantly. “But I’m afraid you can’t wear that underneath it.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant my suit, the holster of stakes, or both. The dress was sumptuous velvet, dark red and exactly what I would have expected Enoch to send. It was his favorite color, after all.

Maybe I did know him. Maybe this was all an act on his part to figure me out. Maybe he only pretended not to know what vampires were.

Enoch could easily be playing me. He was obviously good at reading people.

Mrs. Kerry eased her arm out tentatively, as if she was afraid I would bite, and I carefully took the dress from her. “There’s a corset folded inside,” she offered. “Do you need help dressing?”

“No, thank you.”

With a nod, she turned and stepped out of the door, closing it behind her. I heard the key turn in the lock a second later. I laid the dress out on the bed, already dreading wearing it… and then I held up the corset. This dinner would be uncomfortable in more ways than one.

* * *

Enoch did not sit on a raised platform. He didn’t sit on a throne. He sat at the head of a rectangular table placed in the center of the room, surrounded by others just like it that were filled with men, women, and children alike. Some were refugees, while others were obviously members of his staff and guard.

Three of the four wooden chairs at Enoch’s table were occupied. I was the last to arrive.

Titus sat at Enoch’s left, and across from him sat Terah. She looked different than she had earlier, calmer. Her golden-brown hair hung in bouncy ringlets down her back. When Mrs. Kerry brought me to the door, Enoch immediately sensed us and waved me over.

Unbeknownst to my host, my stakes were securely strapped to my side. I had to tear the gown where the skirt met the bodice to make sure I could reach them quickly. It wasn’t a large enough tear to be noticed, but now that it was started, it’d be easy to rip it further, fast.

Titus’s eyes widened as I walked around the table, and he bit back a chuckle when he saw me. Like he looks any better in his too-tight pants and tunic.

I reached for the empty chair located at the other end of the table from Enoch, but Enoch stood and pulled it out, giving me a fang-filled grin. “Allow me, Milady.” He took a very noticeable sniff of me as I stepped around to the front of the chair. He pushed it in under my legs as I sat.

“I take it that my smell no longer offends you?” I asked.

“No, Eve. It most certainly does not,” he replied as he slid back into his chair, giving me a look so smoldering, I thought the fabric of my gown might catch fire. Swallowing, I shifted my attention from him to Titus.

“We match,” he commented coyly, looking down at his chest and then at mine. “Almost.”

A loud thwack drew our attention. The thwack came from Enoch, who had skewered the table with a large, sharp knife.... a knife that wobbled in front of Titus. “Keep your eyes off her,” he growled. “Consider this your only warning.”

A few gasps came from the tables closest to us as the men and women looked between their Lord and the knife he’d impaled into his table.

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