Page 39 of Research with Rivals
“Sasha was just going home,” Ambrose seemed to remind her.
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes widened as if surprised she’d forgotten. She moved to the counter to grab a stack of pancakes on a plate. “I’ll take these. Bring the rest when you’re finished.” Turning on her heel, she walked to the door.
“Ambrose, do you need to…” I gestured toward her, the girl who couldn’t be more than six, who he seemed ready to send out into the city on her own.
His attention hadn’t left me. “She’s alright. She’s just going down the hall. You can watch her if you feel more comfortable.” He tapped his nose. “I can scent if anyone else is in the hallway on her walk.”
So Sasha didn’t live here. That still didn’t quite explain who she was. I opened the door since her hands were full with the plate of pancakes. As I was already at the door and didn’t want to continue to stare at Ambrose like an idiot, I watched Sasha.
He was right, of course. She walked down two doors and opened the unlocked door on the opposite side of the hallway. She announced her entry and the arrival of breakfast with glee.
The noises in the kitchen behind me quieted. Ambrose must have finished his work. I turned to face him, finding him close.
I couldn’t hide my jump, though I managed to keep the inevitable “yeep” in my mouth.
Ambrose’s lip tilted into an almost-smile. “I know. A bell. I’ll get one.”
His familiar words left me wanting to smile in return, but I couldn’t. I was in Ambrose’s home. He knew too much. I needed to get away from whatever this was.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I didn’t want to hear whatever he’d say.
“Who is Sasha?”
His brow furrowed, then smoothed as he scratched the back of his neck. “My little sister.”
My shoulders sagged in relief, and I didn’t mull too long over why that might be.
“Your family lives down the hall?”
He nodded. “My mother travels quite a bit for work. And father could use the help with the twins.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but that was not it. A hundred other questions filled my mind, each one more invasive than the last. Ambrose didn’t make me ask any of them. He simply continued speaking. “My father’s eyesight is severely impaired. I just like to help when my mother is traveling. Twins can be a handful no matter the circumstances.”
This time, I didn’t stop the slight curve of my lip, even though there was still a list of reasons I should.
Another thought occurred to me, making me wince. “Let me guess, you also get them to school?” That was why he was never as early to the library as I was.
“I do.” He paused as if realizing why I asked the question. “They go early. I come into the library later because my father always has a hundred questions about what I’m doing with blood magic.”
My head tilted automatically at the mention. “Did he … work with blood magic when he was at the library?” As I finished the sentence, I felt like I was sliding across ice while it was fracturing beneath me. Something in the back of my mind yelleddanger, but it was far too late to stop. I was already halfway across.
Ambrose sighed, not making eye contact, but continued to speak. “Blood magic is what affects his eyesight. It was a research project that didn’t go as he anticipated.”
I sucked in a breath. More puzzle pieces of Ambrose Yarrow snapped precisely into place. “Did he…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Did he test on living things? Yes, I suppose he did at one point. He certainly doesn’t now. Some would say he championedthe practice of only testing on inanimate objects as a safety measure. Most of the time, he’s trying to shut down all research on blood magic.”
“I see.” And I did. I had always assumed Ambrose was raised with a love of learning, of testing. Those attributes were always so clear in him. I thought the constant poking at my experiments was reserved only for those whose methods he didn’t trust. Was it possible that his incessant questions, his caution that implied irresponsibility on my part, were attributes he was raised with? How did his father feel about his current projects? I didn’t have to wait to find out.
“He likes to review the experiments being conducted in the library. The documentation is public for Vesten.” He scratched the back of his neck. “He has concerns with nearly all of them—with the safety risk they present.”
Then my cheeks heated. Were his nagging questions misplaced anxiety? I didn’t want to know that. This felt too private all of a sudden. I didn’t want to know more about him and his family’s history with blood magic. My veil cat uncurled in my head, perking up as if to sayliar.
I needed to get a grip. I needed to get to the library. I needed to know what Ambrose was going to do with the information he had obtained last night.
“About—” I started.
“We should—” he said.
