Page 57 of Thomas
“He hasn’t said as much. He told me that he can’t scent anyone. That he lacks the ability.”
Rachelle urged him toward the door to the outer hallway. “Hm, I do wonder about that. He’s never engaged in proper feeding practices with another vampire—and he’s only had bags since he was weaned. Did you know?”
It felt a little uncomfortable that she would disclose this, but Thomas didn’t see the point in lying. “I did. He told me.”
“Really? Good for him. I suspect feeding and being fed from are likely an integral part of our natural development. I suppose only time will tell.”
They returned to the Ashford estate late in the evening, but Thomas found that he wasn’t tired. Something about the night had invigorated him. A weight being lifted? A burden being shared. Whatever it was, it buzzed within his core and sent soft, contented pulses all throughout his body.
Henry had gifted them an entire box of 1964 Anniversary Maduros, which was beyond generous in Thomas’s estimation.
“I told Henry that a five-pack would have been plenty,” Cameron had said in the car, obviously frustrated. “But the stubborn man insisted on the box of twenty. I would have ordered them for you. I will, in the future.”
Thomas had said nothing, only smiled and taken hold of his large hand. Cameron sounded more put out by the lost opportunity to do something kind for Thomas (yet again), rather than the actual box of cigars.
In the estate, Thomas followed Cameron up the stairs to the second floor, past Thomas’s bedroom and down a hallway he had never ventured to explore.
“Why do you keep the cigars in the attic?” Thomas asked, perplexed. There were multiple studies and sitting rooms on the lower floor that could easily be dedicated smoking rooms.
“Because the cocktail lounge is up there.”
Thomas stopped mid-step, gawking. Cameron went a few steps further before he noticed he was alone, then turned. “What? Did Lennon not mention this?”
“The two of you.” Thomas shook his head. “This house and its secret passages and rooms.”
Cameron grinned. “Onlyonesecret passage, andonesecret room. Come with me?” He stalked forward and Thomas followed.
The offshoot corridor around the corner was styled differently compared with the rest of the upper floor. The wallpaper was a rich and swirling peacock pattern. All indigos,royal purples and forest greens laced with golden foil. It was moody and playful and set a different tone from the more neutral but still lovely adjacent hall. There was a square window showcasing the dark and snowy night at the end of the corridor, but nothing else. It looked like a glamorous dead end.
Cameron stepped to the wall and placed his palm there. “Third bird, right side, the button is here but flush with the wall. Come look.” Thomas stepped over to Cameron’s side and examined the pattern more closely. A panel was discreetly placed within the center of the bird’s body. If you didn’t know to look for it, you might not find it at all, especially not in the dim light.
“I see it,” Thomas confirmed.
Cameron pressed the button, and a gentle mechanical whirring drew his attention to the high ceiling of the corridor. Smoothly, a large rectangle cut-out formed there, then folded down and toward the floor. A single set of dark wooden steps was on the upper side of it, and Thomas watched in awe as it quietly rested onto the floor at their feet. A simple stairway leading up and into the attic.
“This is incredible,” Thomas marveled. They had secret rooms and corridors within his home estate, but they weren’t whimsical like this. They were dank and derelict. Unquestionably filled with dust, grime and spiderwebs (with no disrespect to spiders, of course). The kinds of hazards more likely to be found in an ancient Temple of Doom and within an accursed mummy’s crypt.
“You haven’t even seen the room yet.” Cameron started up the stairs and Thomas trailed behind. The lush dark blue carpet was the first thing to appear in Thomas’s line of sight as his head poked into the room. The color was like a swatch of the nighttime sky, and that feeling expanded the further he climbed into the space.
“Hold on,” Cameron said, stepping off to the side. “Lights.”
The luscious and richly colored peacock wallpaper continued in the attic, wrapped around the room like the most exquisite and fanciful birthday present. A full bar was set to one side, gleaming with maple-wood accents and rows and rows of glass bottles and decanters. A few high-backed stools were set on the opposite side of the bar for seating.
A tawny leather sofa sat in the middle of the space, flanked by two matching armchairs. The surface of the live-edge coffee table between them was cluttered with tapered candles in varying colors and sizes. All unlit, but Cameron was making quick work of changing that.
As he did so, Thomas wandered over to the only window. It was round and small and set within the east wall. He could feel the cold air from beyond against his face. The snow was still falling in heavy tufts.
“Would you like a drink?” Cameron asked. “Another cigar?”
Thomas turned, and a mob of tiny flames were dancing and flickering on the coffee table from all the lit candles. He hadn’t noticed until just now, but ornate copper lanterns were strategically placed along the walls, making the room and peacocks glow between the soft shadows.
“Yes and yes,” Thomas said, smiling helplessly, his heart warm. It was too magical and cozy here to feel anything but delight. He walked over and sat himself on one of the high stools. “Whiskey?”
Cameron was behind the bar. “Neat? Cocktail?”
“Neat, please.”
“Coming right up.” Cameron set two glass tumblers on the wooden counter and pulled a bottle from the shelf behind him. As he tipped the amber liquid into the first glass, Thomas took in the room once more.
