AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He looked a bit on edge,” Abigail observed with clear curiosity. “And I could not help but notice his jacket had gone missing. Did something happen between you two in the garden? A little tiff?”
Gwen’s stomach twisted into a giant knot. She nearly lied but thought better of it. Though it didn’t mean she had to tell her everything. “Besides him acting like a total jackass?” Gwen replied with the sharpness of a razor blade.
Abigail trilled with delighted laughter. “Oh, you are a wicked thing,” she giggled, coming to take Gwen’s arm in her own. “It’s not many creatures who can get under a vampire’s skin. And even fewer who can get under the Hound’s.”
If Gwen hadn’t felt so utterly horrible, she might have taken it as a compliment. “Hound?” she replied, not following.
“The Hound of Hell,” Levian explained. “A nickname of sorts. Sirus loathes it.”
Gwen banked that little nugget in her brain.
“I was displeased that Levian invited him,” Abigail confessed with a heavy sigh. “I won’t claim that I wasn’t hurt when he spurned my advances the last time we saw each other.” Gwen felt like she might be sick all over the marble floors and pretty carpets.
“You were interested in Sirus?” Levian scoffed, though she didn’t seem genuinely surprised by the admission.
Abigail cut her a sharp look and shrugged. “I have unique tastes, though apparently I didn’t suit his. Not that it matters.” She delicately stroked Roman’s shoulder. “I’ve not thought of him much since. And he is a jackass, as you said.”
Gwen’s chest tightened as her fury began to abate with no Sirus there to rage at. A heavy weight settled over her instead. Not because of Abigail, but because of all of it. She just wanted to leave. To bury her head in the covers back in London and never come out again.
“Must you go?” Abigail whined. “I want to hear all about your little fight with the vampire. I do hope you were as sharp-tongued with him as you were just now.”
Despite herself, Gwen flushed a little at the mention of Sirus and tongues. Thankfully, Levian stepped in. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one evening, and I think Gwen here has probably had enough for a lifetime.”
If only she knew the half of it.
Abigail huffed her displeasure. “Hardly, but I understand if you want to run away home. Though, if you’d like to stay, Roman does give an excellent massage.” The look of dread that must have been plastered on Gwen’s face made Abigail smirk. “Don’t worry, dove,” she said, pulling Gwen in closer until she pressed against the side of her swelling gown. “We can save it for another visit. And if Roman isn’t your type, I’m sure I can find another more suitable to your tastes.”
Gwen was in no rush to ever come back here.
“Next time, bring the dragon,” Abigail ordered Levian as she led Gwen out of the lounge and into the hall.
“Barith?” Levian scoffed. “Why?”
“It’s been an age since I’ve seen him,” the witch said, “and from what I recall, he’s rather enjoyable company when he’s had his share of fae wine.”
“If by ‘enjoyable’ you mean an utter troll, then yes,” Levian snarked.
Abigail looked over at the mage, who’d fallen in step beside her. “If you’ve got your eye on him, all you have to do is say so. I don’t want to step on any?—”
“What?” Levian hissed. “Barith is an ogre. If you want him, you’re more than welcome to him. I only warn you; he’ll drink even you out of house and home.”
Gwen couldn’t help but feel like the mage’s reaction was a touch too shrill.
Abigail smiled. “I do like a challenge.”
Gwen glanced over at Levian, who looked like she could chew a box of iron nails.
The magick mirror hung in a small antechamber she’d barely paid any attention to when they’d arrived, thanks to Levian’s forcefulness. In fact, it was one of four mirrors that hung in the room. “Are those all magick?” she asked Abigail.
“Heavens no,” the witch laughed. “One magick mirror is enough for anyone. Four would just be obnoxious.”
Gwen wouldn’t have put it past Abigail to have more than one. After seeing that fountain, and Roman, she wouldn’t put anything past her. The witch took her hand and patted it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help you more,” she said sincerely. “I owe you a favor.”
“A favor?”
“You didn’t have anyone to warn you against Bridgette’s horrible cooking. It’s the least I can do to try and repay the debt,” Abigail told her with a sly smirk.
An idea struck Gwen suddenly, and the words just spilled out. “Can you send her a message? Miss Jones?” she asked Abigail. “Tell her that I’m okay, and that I hope I get to see her again when this is all—over.”
