Page 49 of Your Coffin or Mine
He turns back the way I came, obviously wanting me to follow. “Yes, it is. These are old family heirlooms that Vlad wants to keep away from prying eyes.”
“Oh, that’s my bad. I just wanted to do some exploring and found this portrait that looks exactly like Vlad.”
He squints down at me. “A portrait?”
I look back in the direction of the painting of Vlad; it really does look just like him, minus the weird pointy mustache. “Crazy genes, huh?”
“Yes.” His tone is strained, as if the word is hard to swallow.
“So he’s named after Vlad Tepesh?” I lean forward so I can gauge his reactions. “Sorry, I was on the phone with my friend when I saw it and she searched him up.”
He clears his throat and places his hands behind his back as we walk. “Yes, that’s Vlad Tepesh, Vlad’s namesake.”
I lean back and look around, our feet echoing in the stone hallway. “It must be so cool to have that kind of history. Have you guys lived here long? I can’t believe I haven’t asked before.”
“Yeah. The family has owned it for forever, and the local villagers are really superstitious, which is why he didn’t want guests in this area. It’s somewhat of a sore spot for him,” he says, giving me the side-eye.
I put my hands behind my back as well, acting casual as a coy grin curls my lips. “Totally get it. I won’t say a thing.”
His mouth pulls into a half smile as he nods. “Good. More visitors will be here in the morning. I’ll take you back to your room.”
My face drops. “Oh, I think I want to explore some more.” When his lips pull inwards, like he wants to dissuade me, I quickly throw my hands up. “Notthe east wing—promise.”
He eyes me a moment, but nods again. “Of course.”
“By the way, I’m sure you would make a killing if more people knew this castle was fromtheDracula, you know?”
Doyle chuckles, before running his fingers through his hair. “Vlad isn’t the most open person in the world, meaning he wants to keep things on the down-low.”
“I don’t know if I believe that. If he really wanted to keep it a secret, would he have even set up the hotel? Oh my gosh, and just think, you could totally use the name Hotel Dracula.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he cups the end of his strong chin, like he hasn’t thought of that. “I like it. However, Aubrey, I wouldn’t go down the east wing on your own again. If he wants to share that part of the castle, he will, but don’t go again without one of us. There’s so much old war stuff and things you could get hurt on.”
“Right, okay.” I wring my wrists behind my back, an embarrassed blush rising to my cheeks. “Thank you so much. You know, for the Band-Aid and being a good friend to Vlad. You’re a good guy, Doyle.”
We turn a corner, coming away from the forbidden wing and to the staircase that leads to the foyer.
“It’s been a pleasure.” He bows, smiling at me, before waving down the stairs. “Milk and cookies are ready and waiting in the kitchen, if you would like some. The chef should be here this evening, but if they’re delayed, we will make do. Any requests?”
I shrug. “Hmm, no, I’m easy. Surprise me. Just so long as it isn’t black pudding, I’ll be fine.”
A grin pulls at his mouth, and he walks away, leaving me on my own again. All good, I’ll have milk and cookies and check out what’s happening in the world.
I make my way to the kitchen, and I’m instantly charmed, so I take a picture.
“How cute and cozy is this?!” I squeal, looking around.
The dining area looks almost too modern for the castle, but the kitchen is perfect and feels like I’ve partially gone back in time. The recently renovated stove is across from an old brickone that is obviously centuries old, and there’s a huge window overlooking a courtyard I haven’t seen before. Iron pots and pans hang above a massive island counter in the middle and most of the walls—save one painted white—are exposed brick.
“I love it here.”
I grab up my plate of cookies and make my way to the small table near the window, watching the snow fall outside. The courtyard is covered in a thick layer of it, but I can see a short hedgerow, marble statues, and lots of tiny trees. It’s really coming down out there—I hope the guests make it okay. I can’t imagine the tiny airport being open with weather like this.
My phone vibrates, and an unknown number flashes across the screen. I swipe to pick it up.
Shoving a cookie in my mouth, I place it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Don’t hang up.” The voice instantly has my vagina drying out and bile rising.
