Page 70 of Of Mercury and Mist

“Yes, that would be Dashiell. I told you about him previously.” Josiah had responded to that text message with an emoji. “You responded. Or perhaps someone else had your phone.”

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

“Yes. Dashiell has been doing very well, or he wouldn’t be permitted to assist.” Seriously, the man should know better than to question my judgment.

“Mm,” my best friend hummed. “Keep an eye on him. Della and I should be returning in about six weeks.”

At first, the absence of the man didn’t affect me much. When you’ve been alive for hundreds of years, time became inconsequential; you never ran out of the valued commodity. Eternity blended together in many ways. But now, it irritated me. Josiah had gotten everything he ever wanted and had no second thoughts about leaving me at the helm and assuming I’d lead.

“I do have other interests besides sitting in an office all day.” The sound of Ashley opening multiple doors reached me, despite the distance between us. She’d be in our bedroom, soon.

Josiah sighed and I could hear him moving about whatever space he was in. “Yes, I realize that. Thank you for your dedicated service. I must not express my appreciation often enough. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have this time away. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I do trust Dashiell; he has a sharp mind and a keen eye.” The door to our room snicked shut. Was Ashley about to change or shower? My jaw ached, thinking about her damp, fragrant skin. “Do you have anything else?”

“Yes, I do. Ipomoea has been invited to a gala, and I need you to attend in my stead. One week’s time. Make an appearance; it’s good for networking. I’ll email you the details.”

After we hung up, I made a beeline for the bedroom.

TWENTY-FOUR

Ashley

All of the clothing Isaac had bought me was exquisite. Top of the line, well made, and with a few designer names I recognized. The shoes were just as nice and contained a mixture of heels and flats. I tore off the pair I had on and quickly exchanged them for comfort when I couldn’t find any slippers.

It took a little bit but eventually I found a pair of leggings and a loose, thin sweater and got changed.

The penthouse Isaac secured for us wasn’t what I would’ve expected from a vampire. The suite was light and bright, covered in shades of white, gray, and cream. Little pops of color stood out here and there, in shades of gold and yellow. I’d kind of been imagining darker, richer tones when I visualized where he’d be taking me but there was none of that here.

The space was pure and clean, directly opposite of how I felt. When I signed the contract, I’d known what I was getting into. I knew it would be a major adjustment, at first. The stories I’d heard from other women reassured me that it was a good gig and that great relationships were formed, and over time you experienced a freedom you hadn’t known was possible.

Getting a sponsor solved all your problems.

For myself, however, a large problem remained—my heart. The treacherous organ persistently tried to convince me I’d given up too soon, hadn’t let enough time go by. I’d tried to nurse my inexplicably broken heart by jumping into a brand new relationship.

Matthew was confident I’d be able to keep my friends and have a life once things settled down. He’d reassured me, answering my text moments ago. Would I be able to visit Della after Josiah decided I was dead to them? There was Karissa, but she was also friends with Della. And if Josiah allowed my best friend to hang out with me, what guarantee did I have I wouldn’t run into Micha? After he turned his back on me at Fleur de Luna, I could guarantee I’d punch him in the face on sight.

“What’s wrong?” Isaac walked in, took one look at me and sat beside me on the bed before I could blink.

My hands scrambled for purchase at his sudden appearance beside me before he took my hand in his.

“I'm trying to adjust to the situation,” I told him.

His gaze trailed over me, skimming my edges. “It’s more than that. I can see it.” Genuine concern covered his features.

I glanced down at my lap, uncertain how much I should tell him. There was no need to cause an issue where there wasn’t one. My problem would just take time and then everything would be okay. It was to be expected—it’d taken me a full year to get over my cheating ex.

Finally, I said, “I’ve had some bad experiences in the past.”

Isaac sat up a little straighter, fully engaged. It almost seemed as if he’d run out of the room to avenge me. “And?”

“Well, it's okay. I had a relationship where the man cheated on me all the time and then?—”

He interrupted me, “I would never do that.”

“Do you mind? I’m trying to be open with you.”

His jaw slid to the side. “Fine.” He was clearly pissed off, his eyes narrowed and muscles tense.

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