Page 31 of Hush Darling
Angling her head, she examined its thick, webbed claws. “Did you at least get a few swipes in before he finished you?”
“Do you always talk to dead animals?”
Wendy jolted to her full height and spun around. Bayne watched her from a darkened doorway, his untrustworthy eyes sharp and as soulless as the crocodile’s. “How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough.” He pushed off the door frame and sauntered closer. “It was one of Peter’s first kills when we arrived.”
“We?” She didn’t realize he had accompanied Peter for so long. Maybe, like the crocodile, he was just another scary relic they kept around as a reminder of power.
Bayne moved like a snake in captivity, slithering about his cage as if he knew every corner by heart.
“I’m Peter’s oldest friend,” he said, purposely implying his rank so there was no misunderstanding her place in this chaos.
Oldest, but far from closest, she thought.
Wendy straightened her spine, less intimidated by reptilian men now that she looked into the eyes of a real crocodile. For whatever reason, Bayne seemed threatened by her presence. She didn’t trust him. And she didn’t play games with people she didn’t trust.
“I was looking for the kitchen.”
He pointed to the far end of the hall. “Second door to the right, straight on ‘til you hit granite.”
“Right. Thanks.” She left him in the hall and headed in that direction.
The kitchen was a treasure trove of luxurious appliances. She hadn’t expected to find anything in the cupboards beyond junk food, but there were abundant ingredients and fresh produce. Someone had taken the time to stock the shelves well, which made her wonder if servants were hiding somewhere.
She nosed through the fridge, drawing inspiration for her menu from the available ingredients.
“How was your shower?” Peter’s deep voice startled her from behind and she turned her back to the cabinets.
“For tall men, you sure walk silently.”
Peter grinned. “You learn to move silently from hunting. Part of the fun is waiting out your prey to arrive.”
Was she the prey?
His jade stare traced over her bare legs, then returned to her face. She tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear.
“How was your shower?”
“Delightful. Thank you.”
He once again glanced down at Cass’s shirt she wore, and his easy expression faded. “Help yourself to whatever you find in there.” He stole a green apple from the basket on the counter.
“Thanks. I didn’t expect to find the kitchen so well supplied.”
He bit into the apple and shrugged. “The servants take care of that.”
Relieved at the confirmation that there were servants, her mind tucked that information away for later. Perhaps she could rely on them for a ride back to the airport.
Wendy gathered ingredients and decided to make her famous chicken and dumpling soup. It was her father’s favorite, so she assumed the Lost Boys would like it too.
As soon as the celery, carrots, and onion started to sizzle, the men sniffed their way into the kitchen to find out what smelled so delicious. Like a pack of hungry dogs, they lingered by the stove, silently begging for scraps.
She put them to work, tasking each one with the simple jobs of a sous chef. “Salt?” she called as she pinched the thyme off the thin branch and sprinkled rosemary into the broth.
“Right here,” Nibbs offered, rushing forward with a wooden salt cellar. He leaned over the large pot and breathed in the steam. “That smells divine.”
Cass crowded her back and looked over her shoulder at the raw contents. “How do you turn that into a stew?” She could smell the earthiness of his clothes and something undeniably tempting on his skin.
