Yet I did.
He sat in his chair, the fire little more than glowing embers. He added a log and gave it a poke, sparks flying up.
He was halfway through re-readingLe Comte de Monte-Cristo, but Eve had borrowed it.
Probably best not to read a book on revenge.
Time passed, marked by the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece, and his mood turned darker still.
So when a knock came on the door rousing him from his thoughts, it was a relief.
With Marcel asleep, Antoine rose to answer, realizing it must be Noah, as no one had pressed the intercom for the gate.
But it wasn’t. A woman stood at the door, dressed in tight jeans and a hoodie, with the hood pulled up. At first, he thought it was Cally—though the curls that framed her beautiful face were raven-black, not blonde.
“Belle.”
“You’re back,mon amour. I missed you. Happy Halloween and… what a fetching robe.”
Antoine fought the urge to check it was properly tied. “I thought you’d left.”
“No. The Curia have gone to Vegas, but I wasn’t interested.”
“What the hell are you wearing?”
Belle laughed, a light musical sound, spreading her arms and gave a little twirl. “It’s called ‘fashion’—the standard uniform of mediocrity. I thought you liked such things. I wore it for you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I wore it to blend in, but partly for you.” She swept back her hood and shook out her long hair. “Are you going to invite me in, or shall we talk on your doorstep?”
Antoine looked past her, seeing the road empty beyond the gate. “No thralls? No big black car?”
“I told you: the Curia have left. They think I’ve returned to France. I can’t very well hang around in other vampires’ territories and be obvious, can I?”
“What, are you staying in an Airbnb?”
Belle shifted awkwardly, her eyes flashing red.
“Youarestaying in an Airbnb?” Antoine exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. Only then did he realize she’d been glamouring, as her eyes reverted to the green she’d chosen.
He laughed and took a step back. “Come in, Belle. Uphold our traditions, and keep my domain tranquil.”
“But it’s not really your domain, is it?” she asked as she walked past. “It’s Gabriel’s now.”
He paused in the act of closing the door behind her, tensing at that name. The lock engaged with a subtle click. “What?”
“Leonard gave it to Gabriel, did he not?”
“What matter is that, when I’m back?”
“Escape from entombment negates the crime, true; but the consequences?”
She might have a point. That could complicate things. He wondered if Gabe knew.
“I don’t know,” he said cautiously. “Do you?”
“In truth, I’m not sure it’s come up before.” She seemed unconcerned. “Usually, when one of our kind is entombed, they don’t re-emerge three weeks later.”
