Page 64 of Seduction in Blood
"That's right," Rachel confirmed. "Do you know about Houses?"
Uh-oh. "A little. There's a great deal I still don't know." Should I play this totally dumb? But if I was Devon's Blood Ward, I should be receiving training and would have opportunities to hear things, even if they were rumors. "I know that most of the Houses have been around a long time. And I think it's rare that new ones are created."
Red elbowed Rachel. "She's a smart one. That's the only reason Simone would say two words to her."
"And she's Devon's Blood Ward." Naomi bounced on her toes, and I wondered if she was jonesing for more champagne. Alcohol didn't intoxicate vampires, but maybe it was addictive. Something I'd have to ask Anna.
Rachel tapped a finger against her chin. "True. Tell me, I'm sorry, what was your name?"
"Cressa."
"Hmm. Okay, Cressa. What would you think about a woman, not one born in the aristocracy, being given a House of her own?"
"You mean that hasn't been done before?" I widened my gaze in mock horror.
The three glanced at each other. "Not ever."
I frowned, drawing my brows together in puzzlement. "I guess I've yet to take the class on misogyny—the world order of vampires. Though it shouldn't surprise me, considering the age of the elders. I have noticed most are male, and it's not unusual to be set in one's ways. But if a woman can get a House now, then some progress has been made." I laughed. "Not like we don't have a similar problem in the human world." I shrugged. "Men can be pigs." It was killing me to fake my way through this. These discussions were more in Ginger's wheelhouse.
Red howled, and it echoed around the landing, forcing jaunty comments from a larger group of men. The second floor seemed to be less formal, and it was obviously a place to let your hair down.
Naomi grinned, and I noticed a light glow in her eyes. Not blue like how Devon's got, but a yellow that turned her brown eyes to amber. "We need to take this one to the tea house."
Rachel gave me a thoughtful glance. "Let's walk you back downstairs, so Devon doesn't miss you too much."
"Let's take the back way and avoid the crowd." Naomi took the lead.
I couldn't believe my luck when she headed toward the servants' stairs and not the main staircase. I tucked in tight behind Red, whose height would easily mask me from the camera. Once we approached the right turn to the staircase, about four doors from the servants' stairs, I stopped.
"Hell's bells. I lost my bracelet. It's always coming off." I looked up, a little panicked. "Devon will kill me."
Naomi waved her hand. "He can come off pretty mean, but he's a gentleman." She rolled her eyes back, thinking hard. "Scratch that. I was thinking of someone else." She giggled, then waved again. "Go back and look for it. Just don't stay alone on the second floor for too long. And maybe we'll see you at the tea house."
The three sauntered off, and Rachel yelled back, "Don't call us, we'll call you."
They laughed as they turned the corner while I raced to the servant's stairs. I gave a quick glance around and dove in, shutting the door behind me.
I calmed my breathing and listened. Silence. I found the light switch and turned it on before running up the stairs on tiptoes, though my pumps were quiet as slippers.
When I reached the top stair, I put my head to the door, wishing I had the hearing of a vamp. Nothing. But there could be a vamp right outside the door, and I wouldn't know it. Sucking in a deep breath, visualizing my target location, I slipped the door open and checked the hall to my left. Nothing. Now the larger risk. I opened the door wider, grateful the hinges didn't squeak. I poked my head around, ready to dash down the stairs if needed. No one was there.
After a deep breath, I stepped out and closed the door behind me. The servants' stairs weren't quite in the middle of the hall, and the door to the master suite was several yards away. The private office beyond that. The plan was to make for the private door rather than go through the master suite, and if the house had been empty, I might have followed that suggestion. But something niggled, and when I got one of those feelings, it was best to follow my instincts.
The door to the master suite was unlocked. I quickly checked for sensors, not expecting any, but better to be safe. Not finding any, I slipped inside. The security plan didn't show alarm panels in the suite, but I checked the obvious places—next to the door and in the closet. I grabbed a silk robe lying on a chair and tucked it over my arm, then checked the door leading to the private office. No alarms.
I put an ear to the door and, hearing nothing, made the last nerve-wracking move to open a door that could have someone on the other side. The hinges squeaked. Barely a sound, but to a vamp it would scream "come check it out." I slipped in, careful to not snag my dress on the doorjamb.
I picked a penlight from my clutch and turned it on. The office was filled with heavy, ornate bookshelves, a couch, and an overstuffed leather chair that reduced the available floor space, leaving enough room for three people to be comfortable. The room must be a man cave rather than a true office, and after glancing around, I determined it was more of a personal library.
The safe was supposed to be in the desk. I sat down and stared at it before trying each drawer. Nothing. Just to the right of the desk, built into the bookcase, was a combination dry bar and wine fridge. It was a strange place for a bar, but if he used this more like a library, it made sense.
Under the dry bar, there was a locked door the size of a mini-fridge. It begged the question of why someone would lock a fridge with all the expensive liquor out on the counter. And there was more than enough room in the wine fridge for food or other liquor bottles.
I took the time to check the room for other possibilities before my gaze turned back to the mini-fridge. I lifted the right slit of my gown to reach my garter. It was a false garter used to hold little tools of my trade. I knelt next to the fridge door, opened the leather pouch, and pulled out a lock pick. Holding my penlight in my mouth, I went to work, and ten seconds later, the door popped open.
I smiled. Not a fridge.
ChapterThirty
