Once Cross realized I wasn't going to oppose his comment in front of Ash, a look of recognition washed over my dearest friend's face. He knew that I was agreeing with him. It was a surprise to both of us, but Cordie needed me now more than ever which made me seethe with anger at the fact that I couldn't help her, which was yet another indication that Cross had been right all along.
Ash rubbed his hand over his mouth, pulling at his lower lip before letting his hand fall to his lap once more. "Well, I have to admit that this is a shocking turn of events. But if what Cross says is true, I think you should go before the council and tell them what's happening," Ash suggested and I stared hard. No way did he just say that.
"And why would you make such an outlandish suggestion? As my closest advisor, I don’t know how you can see any benefit in me doing so.” What was Ash thinking? There were about a thousand ways the council could misconstrue this. And there were those seated on the council who would delight in taking me down and this would give them the opportunity.
"If you tell them that Cordelia's your Blood Heart, perhaps they'll give their permission for you to turn her before any more harm comes to her. She does seem to be a magnet for trouble," Ash added. And while I couldn’t blame the troubles she’d seen solely on her, there was no denying that she did seem to find more than her fair share.
"What if she's already changing?" I wondered aloud. "Every time I see her lately, she has a purple, magical haze surrounding her body. And the last time I saw her, she truly looked like a vampire version of herself, with dark eyes and pale skin."
Ash froze. This wasn't exactly normal information I was giving him, and I doubted he'd know what to do with it. But it caused an effect, a look that passed over his features that was part confusion and part disbelief.
"If the council finds out about her transformation before it's complete, they'll kill her. Blood Heart or no." Ash's words cut deep, but I knew he was right. If she was changing, she would need to remain hidden until she was completely changed. Otherwise, if they found her, there wouldn’t be anything I could do—except take on the entire c
Fury brewed to the surface as I realized that, yet again, Cordelia was in dangeragain,albeit in a completely different way, because of her relationship with me.
I pushed the anger away, not wanting to take it out on Ash accidentally. "Turning Cordie or not doesn't matter right now. I mean before I even think about talking to the council about it, I need to talk to her about it and see if it's something she's even interested in. Right now I just need to keep her grandmother safe, and figure out what to do about the ambush I have no doubt is set up for me."
"Ambush?" Ash raised an eyebrow.
I quickly briefed Ash on the phone call I'd had with Cordelia and he grimaced. "They've chosen the location and the time. That's definitely an ambush." Ash shook his head before leveling his gaze at me. "So what are we going to do about it?"
20
Cordelia
I groggily searched the room, trying to remember where I was. The smell of mildew and the view of a tiny rectangle of light reminded me of my unfortunate predicament. I was still a prisoner of Milo and his fellow vampire hunters, and no dreams of Rook, regardless of their pleasant nature, could change that fact.
This time when I woke I actually felt rested, as though my body had been given something it needed, the only problem was the hunger that was gnawing away at me. I hadn't had anything to eat since the moldy bread Milo had given me and my body was making it known that it was not happy with the state of affairs.
I rose from the bed and made my way to the small bathroom in the corner of the room. The old metal faucet squealed as I turned it and water reluctantly spewed forth below. I splashed water on my face, trying to wash away the sleepiness, but it was no use. While I may have slept better than I had previously I still missed my bed. I missed the comforts of home. I missed Gran and being able to hear her puttering about on the first floor. I missed… everything.
Glancing at the cracked mirror, I realized that I looked like death warmed over, and no amount of water was going to change that. A quick sniff of my underarms reminded me that I'd not showered in days and had been put under an enormous amount of stress. I splashed some water on them, as well, hoping it would cut the stench down a tad.
The idea of going back to the cot and just sitting, staring at the wall, or trying to sleep when I wasn't tired made me want to groan with frustration. This really was the road to insanity. I'd never thought of myself as a particularly social person, but even I needed some contact and conversation if I wanted to stay sane.
I walked out of the bathroom just in time to see the door to my room open and Milo and Jonathon walk in. They were murmuring to each other but stopped as soon as they saw me. Surely they knew I was here, it wasn't like I could go anywhere after all, so why not finish the conversation in the hallway before coming into the room?
We all stared at each other for a moment. Milo awkwardly cleared his throat which seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over us. He didn't get a chance to say anything though.
"It's time to go," Jonathon said gruffly although he hadn’t moved nearer to me. He stood rigid just inside the doorway, in the exact spot that he'd been in when he saw me.
“Time to go?” Already? Wow, I must've slept a lot longer than I thought. Although I hadn't really had much of a concept of time since I'd been in here. The light never changed and they hadn't brought food at any kind of regular intervals so everything had just slipped away. Plus, I hadn't exactly been on a normal sleeping schedule with Massimo almost draining me and everything.
It was only when he raised his hand that I realized Jonathon had been holding something the entire time. I wasn't usually that oblivious to things, which was concerning. Maybe I was still suffering from the blood loss combined with the lack of food?
He threw a wad of material at me and I caught it with both hands. "Get changed."
Weird. Why would I need to change? There was no need in arguing. After all, I'd been through, putting a different outfit on wouldn't kill me. Besides, I'd been stuck in the same clothes for way too long. Putting something clean on sounded appealing.
I walked back into the bathroom and shut the door, immediately trying to figure out what I was supposed to be wearing. The material unfolded and I realized it was a dress of some sort. Not a good looking one either.
As I slipped out of my filthy clothes I breathed a silent sigh of relief in the hopes that maybe this nightmare was almost over. As I pulled the dress over my head, I was surprised by how heavy it was, the fabric hadn't seemed that thick at first, but now I was wrestling with it, I could tell my first impression had been wrong.
Once it was on, I turned to look in the mirror and was met with my reflection. The first thing I noticed was that the gown was more like an old world nightgown, the kind I imagine people wearing in Shakespearean plays, or even a production ofA Christmas Carol.
It was made of thick, white wool that covered me from my neck to my wrists and ankles. Not an inch of skin showed. The hem and cuffs were trimmed with a few rounds of delicate lace, each one fluffier than the last. I felt like some kind of Victorian woman, preparing to call it a night and using a snuffer to douse the flame on her candle.
The second thing I noticed as I exited the bathroom was Jonathon's gaze. He was staring at me hungrily as if he'd never seen a woman before. The intensity of his gaze made me feel uncomfortable and gross, so I quickly crossed my arms over my breasts. They weren't huge or anything, but just the way he was looking at me, made me feel exposed.