Page 20 of Hupotasso
“You better not have.”
“No, ah,” she shakes her head, her expression puzzled. “I told her it would be problematic.”
“You’re damn right it’s problematic. She can have a television and recordings of the show — no computer.”
“Of course. I should have thought of that,” she nods quickly.
“Then get onto it. She can watch it tomorrow while you sleep. It should keep her occupied for much of the day.”
“Yes, Cousin.”
“You’re dismissed.”
I frown as I watch her leave.
It’s no surprise Angelina doesn’t like her. It wasn’t lost on me that she’d been primed to strike Caroline when I’d entered the ballroom, and I know it must have taken some doing for her to get to that stage. It also hadn’t gone unnoticed that her pent-up frustration and aggression had been unleashed on me.
The slap hadn’t hurt, although her audacity was mind-boggling. I rub my shoulder and back where she’d bitten me. Silver fucking fillings. A day or two and the ache will dissipate, but right now it was a salient reminder that I’d beaten the woman I’d chosen to marry, twice. And I’d enjoyed it. A good spankingwas usually enthusiastically incorporated into my repertoire of sexual mores, and very much appreciated. But not in anger — I shouldn’t have struck her in anger.
Jag’s words about my father being proud of my actions come unbidden and I swallow another mouthful of whisky. He hadn’t called since our last meeting, but Wolf said he’s out in the world trying to get to the bottom of Spider’s ruse and Angelina’s role.
I don’t look forward to telling him the new twist to my plan when he returns, Sophie’s request regarding heirs. Even Wolf had raised his eyebrows at that. But I have a feeling this too, is something my father would have approved of.
Taking the bottle, I collapse into the chair facing the fire and wonder idly what Angelina will think when she watches the replay of our season of The Games. I hadn’t done so yet — couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Now, though, with the heady scent of her skin still on mine and that look she’d had in her eyes at the forefront of my mind, tonight might be the night. After all, we wouldn’t see each other now for at least a month. I have plenty of time to watch every last shot and glean at least some clarity. Perhaps I’ll learn something if I watch her from every angle. Perhaps she’d given herself away, but I’d been too blinded by lust to see it.
Rubbing my hands over my face as though I can rub off every memory from the past six months, I reach for my laptop and turn on the show.
I fast-forward my introduction to all the other women. I’m only interested in one.
I’ve only seen her in tears, angry, or scared for so long that I’m stunned when I see her walk towards me down the petal-strewnwalkway in that tight royal-green gown, back straight and head high.
She’s beautiful.
15
Once again on the Lear, I stare straight across at Caroline where she sleeps, mouth slightly open, eyes covered by a pink, satin sleep mask.
Sam and I used to joke about competitors in The Games who wore these. We’d felt that they were literally blinding themselves to potential attack, which could come at any time, day or night. We called them ‘temporary competitors.’
‘Pity Caroline isn’t a temporary vampire. I wonder how Sam’s going now. Will she have a new roommate already? What would she do in my shoes? She’d definitely try to escape, no question. She’d also counsel staking Caroline.’
I narrow my eyes as I think this. Getting out of the castle and out from under Falcon’s watchful gaze and addictive body is exactlywhat I need. But if I’m going to escape at some point on this month-long journey, I’m going to have to get rid of Caroline.
‘But kill her? Could I actually kill for my freedom, for my life? Hadn’t I already proven in The Games that I couldn’t? Yes, but there were cameras then, and I didn’t want my legacy to be that of a murderer. I didn’t want my students to see me do something that terrible.’
I look up at the camera watching me now, and sigh. This whole trip is going to be televised. I don’t know where I’m going exactly yet. Part of the surprise for the audience is the random order of the visits and the interplay between the grieving families and the reactions from the royal wife. It’s all so fucked up and psychologically aggravating. It’s like being in an extended version of The Games. Thank God for small mercies, though. Gary Showman will be waiting at my first destination and each destination after that, so I don’t have to travel with the bastard.
Still, the cameras are a complication, because just like when I was in the competition, I know I won’t kill publicly. Even if I had the skills to stake the vampire before me or push her off a cliff or something, I just know I don’t have it in me. Or do I?
‘The public thinks I do…they think I killed Pasha. So, what’s a little more blood on my hands…?’
My brain admonishes my idiocy immediately.
‘Oh, get a grip, Angie. You hadn’t killed Pasha and that’s the fact of the matter, even if you claimed her kill. You could no more kill Caroline than you could off a mouse.’
I sigh heavily. If I’m going to get rid of her I’m going to have to come up with some happy accident or become more diabolical.
