He bends to grab his crossbow, slings it over his shoulder, and turns to walk back into the bushes with a last, longing glance.
Immy barely waits for him to disappear before she breaks out into giggles. “It’s so strange watching the great Evelyn in love.” I frown at her and she spreads her hands out in surrender. “I don’t mean it like that! I think it’s sweet. You never really seemed the type to fall so hard. Callie, I could understand—” We both roll our eyes at the mention of our sister. Callie is never alone. She delights in always being surrounded by a crowd of fawning admirers. “But you’ve never shown an interest in anyone before.”
“I’ve had lovers,” I object.
“But you didn’tlovethem,” Immy replies. “You’re head over heels for Frost, I can tell.”
I shoot her a look, and she wisely decides to change the topic. “We’re nearly back. Do you think Cain will celebrate our victory?”
The hopeful glint in her eye makes me grimace. “Unlikely.”
Immy yearns for our sire’s favour, but destroying a nest of ghouls isn’t going to earn her it. Cain will acknowledge I did the task I was assigned to do and probably ignore Immy’s involvement entirely, unless it’s to castigate her for something.
The huge, wrought-iron gates of the manor open as we approach, the vampire guards bowing low as we trot through. I swing down from my mare and hand the reins to the waiting groomsmen, pausing to give Immy time to do the same before leading the way toward the imposing mansion.
We’re dripping black blood all over the flagstones as we walk, but it’s not as though we can help it.It soaks everything. My hair, my face, every bit of skin my armour hasn’t quite covered, is sticky with it. I can’t even use my hands to wipe the ichor away without making it worse.
It’s a wonder that Frost was willing to kiss me in such a state.
Immy isn’t much better. The inky colour turns her already pale skin ghostly—though her auburn hair seems to have escaped unscathed.
Big fat droplets of the stuff run from our clothes and splash onto the immaculate front steps of the manor as we walk, marring the white marble. The human servants won’t complain. They benefit from the deaths of the ghouls as much as everyone else with family in the village.
The few we pass offer us smiles and bows as we pass in silent thanks.
That was the last of the ghoul nests along our border, and now they’ve all finally been eradicated.
Frost will be able to sneak over the wall in a few hours without worrying about a ghoul ambush.
God, later can’t come quickly enough. My fingers brush against my lips in memory of that kiss.
I’m so distracted by thoughts of Frost that I barely notice Ivan standing in the open doorway. His lycanthropy makes him an unusual choice for our sire’s butler, but he’s held the position for hundreds of years. He’s good at his job and loyal, which is probably why Cain hasn’t had me execute him yet. It helps that he’s also the least lycan-like lycan I’ve ever met. His familiar, impassive gentility is the total opposite of the brutal savages who guard our gates by daylight.
If I hadn’t seen him chained and snarling in the dungeons during the full moon, I’d find it hard to believe he’s one of them.
“Your ladyships,” he begins with a bow. “Your sire requests you attend him at court as soon as you’ve changed. Your sisters are already there.”
“Both of us?” Immy squeaks.
“Straight away?” I ask at the same time.
Cain never summons all of us. He’s normally content to let Bella and Callie sit on his arm and play their part as princesses while the rest of us do our best to steer clear of the politics and backstabbing.
Having all five of his daughters at court is rare.
Ivan bows again. “Yes, my ladies. Your sire had the maids leave clothes for both of you in your chambers.”
I curse inwardly but paste a smile on my face before my annoyance can show. I’ll be late to meet Frost, but he’ll wait for me. With any luck, we can steal a few hours before dawn.
“Thank you, Ivan,” I reply, forcing down my disappointment.
The butler doesn’t linger or say anything more. With a sharp nod, he turns on his heel and retreats into the gloom of the manor.
Ever impatient, Immy barely waits until he’s gone before blurting. “All of us! He never summons all of us, Evie!” Her voice grows higher pitched with every word, but she has the good sense to keep her words quiet. “He might know about the drugs. What if your thrall—?”
“Frost will be fine,” I whisper as I stride down the decadent hall, loosening the ties holding my leather armour in place as I go. “This changes the plan, but not by much. The drugs are subtle, just enough to dull the guards’ senses, and completely undetectable. Besides, Cain knows about Callie slipping out to see that musician in the village and does nothing. He’s probably just in one of his moods.”
It’s the wrong thing to say, because Immy visibly flinches before recovering herself.
