Page 39 of Thomas
“You speak to Sulee a lot, I see?” Thomas said, wanting to cut off that particular thread of conversation.
Mira smiled. “She has all the gossip. For instance, I knew Lennon didn’t care for Devon—Lord Gates—even before he arrived.”
“Did you?” Thomas asked, intrigued.
“Apparently, Lennon calls Lord Gates ‘that lurking bag of maggots.’ He knew Lord Gates had a thing for Lord Ashford, and that Lord Ashford was oblivious to it. But Lord Gates doesn’t even read the books he sells—he hates the whole business of it.”
Thomas drew back at this, aghast and offended. “How could he? He’s a rare bookseller living in Calais! Some vampires would kill for that kind of life.”
Namely, me.
“I know, it’s a tragedy and such a waste,” Mira agreed. “He inherited the business from his mother, who ran away from Eden as a young adult with her mate. He grew up travelingbetween Calais, Paris and London, but what he really wants is to have a manor home in Eden and be a proper lord, I guess? Essentially, he wants the very life his parents walked away from forhisbetterment. It feels quite backward.”
Thomas huffed. “What an ungrateful toad. A bag of maggots indeed.” Nobodywantedto be a lord in Eden. It was simply dumped on you by a cruel fate, and then you had to deal with whatever bullshit accompanied your unique and terrible circumstance.
To be a contemporary vampire—free from the antiquated responsibilities and rules of a rigid aristocracy—traveling across Europe and comfortably situated with a stable, thriving business was something any rational Eden purebred would long for.
“He doesn’t read the books,” Thomas went on, scoffing. “What madness.” He hoped he never saw Devon’s face again, lest he slap him across it with the hopes of knocking some sense into him.
“Sulee has all of the dirt,” Mira said, grinning hopefully. “I’ll share it with you, of course. They… The staff members like you. They’re worried about your being ill, but they’re rooting for you.”
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Rooting for me in what way? To survive?”
“Yes, that. And to be happy here. To be a good companion for Lord Ashford. They love him and want that for him.”
Does he want that for himself?Thomas mused. He sighed. The harmony of the estate and everyone’s contentment was obvious. Even Mira’s overall conduct had changed drastically compared with the way she’d skulked around, jittery and silent, in front of Lord Blakeley at their home estate.
Still, it wasn’t right to push something onto Cameron that he didn’t want. That was how Thomas had arrived here in the first place… not that he was ungrateful for it.
Thomas looked at the crystal goblet gleaming in the sunlight. The blood velvety and red like the most forbidden nectar. He thought to reach for it and try again, but before he could even lift his hand, his stomach lurched. A wave of nausea loomed at the edges of his consciousness.
He took a breath and closed his eyes. “I’ll keep trying, Mira… Could you please give me some privacy? I’d like to take my time.”
“Yes, but… I’ll come back to check on you in a little while,” Mira said, worry etched all over her face. “Lord Ashford said he wants to see you when you’re awake and willing to receive him. What should I tell him?”
Thomas stilled, deliberating. He wanted to see Cameron, but he was simultaneously embarrassed by his pathetic state. The thought of refusing Cameron’s company felt both ludicrous and uncouth. And further… there was something fragile there. Thomas didn’t know what it was just yet, but he had a strong sense that if he pushed Cameron away—even for the smallest of reasons—the tenuous thread forming between them might snap.
With each passing day, Cameron was growing more at ease with Thomas’s presence. Opening up to him and allowing himself to be honest and vulnerable. Thomas knew that he needed to do the same. He wanted to.
“Yes,” Thomas told her. “Please tell him we can meet this evening in the lower library—perhaps we can play chess…” Chess was a contemplative, low-energy activity. It might also help to distract him from his selfish thoughts about biting Cameron… maybe. Probably not. “Will you help me dress later?”
Mira nodded, her expression relaxing, just a bit. “Of course I will. But you’ll try the blood first?”
Thomas glanced back at the dreaded glass. His gag reflex lurched as if he were about to vomit, but he quickly swallowed it down. “Right…” he said, taking a breath. “Blood first.”
Chapter Fourteen
Showering and getting dressed had been more difficult than Thomas had anticipated.
After he’d choked down a single mouthful of blood, Mira had needed to help him with the simplest of tasks. Getting down the stairs with her arm hooked around his waist to keep him stable had been its own humiliating challenge. By the time he was seated in one of the tufted chairs near the burning hearth in the lower library, Thomas was ready to lie on the floor and call it a night.
When he’d been in the bathroom getting ready, he’d hated what he saw in the mirror. His hair was a bit too long and his clothes were hopelessly ill-fitting, not only due to his lack of feeding and eating but because they were years out of fashion.
Staring at his ghostly and sad reflection, Thomas briefly thought that this was perhaps the most undignified he’d ever felt in his life. Then he remembered being covered in filth in the dank dungeon and realized his life was now a steady stream of undignified moments. Thomas was leading an indecorous existence.
His insecurity doubled when Cameron cautiously stepped into the library. He wore a thick cream-colored sweater witha classic houndstooth pattern and dark slacks. He looked handsome and strong, overflowing with life and vigor. Cameron approached, and he smelled superb. Like an herbal apothecary tucked deep within an enchanted forest, but it only carried healing and sweet potions. Nothing poisonous nor deathly.
Essentially, he was Thomas’s polar opposite. A being of prosperity and life while Thomas sat there watching him like a harbinger of death.
