Page 52 of The Pureblood Daughter
She’s across the hall in a moment, and in a flurry of skirts and curls, she slams Miss Kazamir against the wall, her forearm pressing against her throat, her other hand digging into the woman’s exposed shoulder.
Miss Kazamir snarls, her rosy lips pulling back to reveal elongated fangs where moments ago were perfect square teeth. She takes a handful of Nadia’s hair and uses it as leverage to swing her into the wall, knocking one of the family portraits to the floor. The frame crashes in a cacophony of breaking glass, and the pain that zips through Nadia’s body only infuriates her further.
“Magdalena or not,” Miss Kazamir whispers, her fangs at Nadia’s neck, “I’ll rip your pretty throat out. You don’tbelonghere.” Her mouth moves closer, and everything in Nadia’s body tells her to fight back, to save her own life. “The viscount ismine.”
“That’s quite enough!” says a booming voice, and Miss Kazamir immediately steps back, releasing her grip on Nadia’s hair.
Nadia has half a mind to use the distraction of the man’s arrival to sink her fangs into her new bête noire, but she resists the temptation.
The man at the end of the hall is imposing, his shoulders wide and strong, his jaw set unforgivingly. It takes Nadia a moment to realize he’s not Theodore, despite the resemblance.
“Miss Kazamir, I believe it’s time you dismissed yourself.” His tone leaves no room for disagreement.
“My apologies, Lord Rosetti,” she says, dipping into a curtsy. Her steely eyes cut to Nadia, and then she’s striding away, her gown trailing the floor behind her as she goes. Her perfect hair is now tousled, and Nadia takes some satisfaction in her rumpled appearance.
But then the man steps forward, and Nadia swallows.
“My lord,” she says softly, curtsying low. “I beg your pardon. I... don’t know what came over me.” Indeed, the rage and desire toprotectfelt entirely unprecedented, and now her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Still, she feels no shame for committing the violence, only for having been caught. “That was completely out of character, I assure you. It won’t happen again.”
The man takes another step, his very presence a heavy weight within the narrow hall. Nadia holds her breath, steeling herself for his reproach. But then he laughs.
“Rise, Miss Magdalena. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.”
Nadia looks up, and Lord Rosetti is smiling down at her, the unflinching hardness gone from his face. His green eyes, a mirror image of Theodore’s, are rimmed in black lashes, and his jaw is heavily shadowed. A sprinkle of gray adorns his dark hair, and near-imperceptible wrinkles hug the outer corners of his eyes.
Nadia wonders briefly how old he must be to show any sign of aging. A century or more, perhaps? It’s maddening having so little knowledge of this new world she finds herself in.
When Nadia rises from her curtsy, the earl reaches out to take her hand and presses a kiss against it.
“I’m Niccolò, Theodore’s father. When Luciana wrote to me you were here, I returned home at the first opportunity. Your father and I were dear friends, you see.” He holds out a hand, gesturing for her to continue down the hallway. “Between us, he was the only man who could drink me under the table. A rogue, that Kirill.” Lord Rosetti chuckles, then leads the way. “Come. There’s something I wish to show you.”
“Oh, but what about...” Nadia pauses and looks back at the damage she and Miss Kazamir caused, at the broken picture frame and shattered glass. The sight of it makes her cheeks burn again. What was she thinking?
“Worry not. I’m sure it was just an accident, yes?” Lord Rosetti smiles, seeming wholly unaffected. “A maid will be along shortly.”
Thankful for his tolerance, she follows him down the hallway to a closed door. He opens it wide and steps back to allow her passage.
As she moves past him, she notes his scent, which is much like Theodore’s, but slightly different. It’s almost as if she can detect just as much with her nose now as she does with her eyes—yet another change that will take some getting used to.
Inside, the room is cool and dark. Draperies conceal the windows, but despite the low light, Nadia finds her eyes adjusting quickly, sharpening until the room is in clear focus.
“You must have questions,” Lord Rosetti says, stepping past her to run a hand along the bookshelves at the rear of the room. He peruses the shelves, and while his back is to her, Nadia lets out a sigh.
“Very many. I don’t know where to start.”
“I imagine it’s all terribly overwhelming.” Lord Rosetti takes a wide-spined tome from the shelf and turns to place it on his desk. “But I’d always hoped for this day. When Kirill and Vera were found, you were not with them. The others dared not hope, but I refused to acquiesce.” His hands tighten into fists at his sides. “Iknewyou were out there, and now here you stand.” He regards her like a proud father might regard an accomplished child, bringing a flush to Nadia’s cheeks.
“Did anyone ever look for me?” she asks.
“Of course.” His tone and eyes soften. “Of course we did, Miss Magdalena. But they hid you well. And Theodore mentioned a necklace of some sort, one which held scented oils, yes?”
Nadia nods, and her hand goes to her throat, but it’s bare. “My father gave it to me when I was but a girl. Until now, not a day went by that I did not wear it.”
“I expected as much. We have powerful senses, as I’m sure you’re coming to discover, and such potent aromas would most certainly disguise your natural scent. Thus, you were able to move through our world undetected.” He moves to sit upon the edge of the desk, and his casual air puts Nadia at ease. “And the tonic you were made to drink—I’d like a sample of it. It would benefit us to know what concoctions the hunters’ guild is devising now.”
“You know of the tonic?” Her voice holds a lilt of surprise. She hadn’t realized Theodore was so close with his father, but it seems he shared much with the earl.
Lord Rosetti smiles, and it’s almost bashful. “He may not appreciate me saying this, but my son has spoken of little else since crossing paths with you, Miss Magdalena. He told me of the tonic, and though we have theories, it’s impossible to be certain without a sample.”
