Page 12 of Unforeseen Mate
There was another unexpected needle jab, and once again her world went dark.
CHAPTER 5
FALLON
When Fallon awoke, she had been untied, taken to a large bedroom with an ensuite bath and left naked in a large, comfortable bed. It was warm, with a fire burning and exquisite antique furnishings. She would have sworn the whole thing was a dream and that she was in whatever accommodation had been made for her in Beer by the Savoy in London. It would have been nicer if she hadn’t been a prisoner. And she was sure she was a prisoner—the locks and bars on the windows and the locked door was evidence of that.
Climbing out of bed, she pulled the top coverlet off and wrapped it around herself. No sense in giving anyone a show if they happened to come in. She tried the door—locked. She went to the windows. They too were locked and barred. All she could see as she peered out of the thick glass was the bare expanse of open space that rolled off the headland and appeared to spill into the sea.
Sitting by one of the windows was another delectable dish; the aroma had awakened her. It was still warm, so someone had been inside the room recently. Given what had happened, Fallon was fairly sure the food was drugged, but she was hungry,thirsty, and continuing to rest wouldn’t be the worst thing she could do.
Fallon knew Nora. She might not have known she was an assassin, but she did know two things for certain—the first was that Nora would come for her. There was no way her friend would let her die. The second was that she needed to be ready to move. That meant eating, sleeping, and exercising. If Nora was able to implement a rescue, Fallon was determined not to be the reason it failed.
Before eating, Fallon used the bath. Not to use the toilet, which after being forced to use a bucket, seemed like an incredible luxury. She thought about waiting to use the shower until after she’d eaten, but if she was right and the food was drugged, she wanted to be clean. She climbed into the shower and stood under the steamy water, letting it work its magic. She had to soap up her body twice to get the water to rinse clean. The same was true of her hair. She emerged from the shower and toweled off. Finding a warm robe hanging on the back of the door felt like such an indulgence. Given that she was being held prisoner and probably didn’t have long to live, Fallon felt entitled to a little comfort.
Fallon sat in the comfortable chair that had been set beside the table with her food and drink. She began to consume them, not really caring if they were drugged or poisoned. There was no choice but to eat. As usual, the food was excellent, and Fallon decided there had to be a chef, as there was no way a woman as austere as Mrs. Crane could have prepared such delicious food.
There was a knock on the door before the key turned, and the door opened. Strode walked in, followed by Mrs. Crane.
“My compliments to the chef,” said Fallon.
“In the past you told Horace to tell me the food was excellent,” said Mrs. Crane.
“True enough, but Horace is dead, and I’d grown if not fond of him, then at least not to dislike him with the vehemence I have for you. I also decided that no one who looks like you do and serves the dragon-shifter here could cook food this good. If you had any self-respect or feeling for others, you’d have poisoned Sir Wrinkled Scale.”
Mrs. Crane looked apoplectic. Strode merely smiled.
“I see your shower and movement to better accommodations has done little to curb your tongue,” he said.
“Well, when yourhostbackhands you and his goons drug and strip you, it’s hard to remember all the lessons learned from Miss Manners; besides, I never did well in those etiquette things.”
“Yes, I can see that. Your friend Nora has been assured that we have removed you from the dungeon. She has agreed to my terms, but I’m not sure I believe her. I didn’t want Erik Hutchinson, or Nora for that matter, joining the Resistance. They are becoming a prickly thorn in my side.”
Fallon waved her hand in front of her face. “I guess I know now where the term ‘dragon breath’ comes from. God, yours is atrocious, but then…” she sniffed “… I guess it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that it smells like sulfur or rotten eggs, but you really ought to consider breath mints.”
“You cannot insult the Master that way,” said Mrs. Crane, advancing on her.
Instead of retreating, Fallon took her own aggressive step forward.
“Enough,” growled Strode.
Mrs. Crane looked terrified and immediately stepped back, looking down at her feet.
“You know, when I first woke up in your dungeon, I wondered what it was I had or what I knew that made me worthkidnapping, but now I know I don’t mean a thing to you. I am simply a means to an end.”
Strode nodded. “Precisely. You are the one and only thing I could think of that might persuade Nora to fulfill her assignment…”
“Let’s be clear,” said Fallon, “you want her to murder some man you called a ‘mate.’ What does that even mean?
“A man she cares for deeply, but does she care for you more? We shall see.”
“Do you really think she’ll do that?” scoffed Fallon. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”
“I raised her. Gave her a home…”
“Trained her to be a killer.”
“I gave her an avocation.”
