Page 13 of Hupotasso
By the end of our conversation I’d steadfastly refused to move my wife from the West Wing, but capitulated to my mother’s insistent demand that Angelina be allowed a companion.
“It’s unseemly not to have a companion when she’s so new to this life,” she’d argued, “and it will certainly be considered odd by The Families. Surely you can see this?”
“You didn’t have one! And I couldn’t give a fuck what The Families think.”
“I did have one,” she’d murmured. “But that is a conversation for another day.”
I’d cocked my head and stared at her then. My mother was still able to surprise me. If she’d had a companion this was the first I’d heard of it, no doubt because some horror had befallen the woman and mother had tried to shield me from it, as usual. The thought made me more inclined to agree to what she was asking. And anyway, at this early stage of the marriage I need to continue to publicly play along. Knowing Angelina she’ll try to run away at the earliest opportunity now she’s been discovered. Back to Spider, no doubt. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to hit the road. And that isn’t something I’ll allow. A companion might keep her in check and may be a good source of intelligence as to her plans.
There had then been a long and lengthy discussion about who would be most suitable. Mother pressed her luck and asked for two, one human for daytime companionship and a royal for nighttime engagements. But I’ll only bend so far. The lying bitch doesn’t need someone to talk to during the day. She can sit and stew on her actions and the consequences. At night, though, it might be prudent to have someone always by her side during the numerous engagements we’re going to be forced to attend upon her return from the tour. It will certainly enable me to spend less time with her.
In the end Mother and I had come to a compromise, and she had reluctantly agreed to my choice. I wanted someone unquestionably loyal to protocol. Someone unlikely to be swayed by Angelina’s ability to make people want to protect her.
Cousin Caroline is one of the most bloodthirsty little social climbers I know, and nothing will get past her. I can count on her to keep my wife in line while I pursue my plans. The fact that she’d set her cap for Jag since we were young and that he loathes her is by the by. If anything it made her more willing to please me on the off-chance I’d put in a good word for her with my friend. But bringing her over would be just another part of my plan that Jag would not approve of — which was starting to become inevitable — something I never would have thought probable before The Games.
Wolf will probably think it funny. He’s always enjoyed watching Jag try to outmanoeuvre the ladies. More than a few had relentlessly pursued him over the centuries — but he’d proven, time and again, difficult to trap. Only Wolf and I knew the real reason. His heart had been stolen when he was young. No other woman, vampire or human, would ever compare to his Coquette.
‘Human women are the bane of our existence.’
Frowning, I lift Rose off my lap and rise to leave.
“Oh,” she pouts. “I thought we’d spend the whole night together.”
“Not tonight,” I shake my head as I pull on my shirt and make for the door. “I have business to attend to.”
“Tomorrow night?” She calls after me.
I turn slowly and narrow my eyes at her. If I’m thinking of another woman the whole time I’m fucking her, she’s outlived her usefulness. I try to ignore the tiny voice in the back of my head suggesting that perhaps they all had. Instead I stride back to her and grip her neck in one hand, pulling her close.
“Lord Falcon,” she squeaks, her eyes wide, heart racing.
Scooping her into my arms, I stalk to the window.
Her screams last a full ten seconds before she hits the ground amid a shower of glass.
Turning, I leave the room without a backward glance and make for another, two corridors away.
As Sophie answers the door I can’t help but notice the swell of her stomach, and I try not to think about the creature living inside her body, and just who it belongs to, as she smiles up at me.
Looking her in the eye I walk in and close the door firmly.
“We need to talk.”
11
After Falcon’s mother leaves I count to one hundred to be sure she’s gone before trying the door. I don’t know if it was by design, or by accident, but I was right in thinking she hadn’t locked it.
I half expect there to be guards outside, but no. The long, dark, carpeted hallway is completely empty at this time of day.
‘Probably all asleep in their coffins.’
Stepping out, I frown. There are doors on either side running the length of the hall. At the very end is a stairwell.
I haven’t thought through yet how I’ll go about getting off this estate if I manage to get out of the castle. I haven’t really thought about anything other than getting out of my room. But I needto start thinking now, and fast. It’s not lost on me that I made a colossal mistake in staying in The Games for Falcon. In the past I might have suffered in silence and kept optimistic that things would get better, like I did with my job for so many years. But I’ve changed — witnessing death almost on a daily basis will do that to a person. I have no intention of staying around and trying to win him over, or waiting for him to kill me.
Knocking on the first door opposite mine I wait for a minute before trying the handle and finding it’s another unlocked bedroom. The few pieces of furniture in evidence are covered in white sheets. It looks like the world’s creepiest hotel room.
The next door, and the door after that, are all the same. But the last door on this floor opens into a small sitting room featuring a larger window than the other rooms.
