But electricity hadn’t cost what it did now. And back then, maintaining a vibrant social circle didn’t take as much effort — or maybe folks didn’t consider it an effort. Back then, my family had had staff, though their number had dwindled over time.
Now, dark, empty windows gazed over the equally dark lawn, giving the building a soulless feel. I let out a long, hopeless sigh. No matter how much work I poured into the place, I would never be done. And even if I could somehow restore it all, I could never breathe life back into it. Not the way my grandmother had.
I gazed at the melancholy sight for another minute, then walked toward the tangle that had once been perfectly trimmed geometric gardens. It was more of a jungle these days, but I could still stroll the same path my grandmother used for her evening walks, and I could still enjoy the stars.
I meandered toward what had once been a magnificent fountain in the center of countless flower beds. Now it was a silent hulk, the three wedding-cake tiers empty, the hippocamp sculptures underneath dry and lifeless. I looked down at the faint reflection of the stars dotting the stagnant water in the basin.
Then I closed my eyes. If nothing else, my imagination could restore the faded glory of the château and gardens.
It worked, and I stood with a faint smile on my lips for a while, reliving better days. Then a finger of cold air touched my neck, and the crickets suddenly went quiet.
My eyes popped open, and I whirled. Was someone out there?
The hair on the back of my neck stood, and my throat went dry. When the bushes rustled, I jumped.
Then I let out a dry laugh and called, “Ha, ha. Very funny, Benedict.”
I crossed my arms, bracing myself for a lion shifter to stalk into view, showing off his fangs and mane. But Bene kept up the ruse and crouched silently behind the bush.
“Could you not find another place to wander around?” I gestured toward the west wing. “Seriously. You guys have all that space, not to mention acres of forest. I’d really, really appreciate having a little time to myself.”
Still nothing. A wispy cloud drifted over the moon, blotting out its dim light.
Muttering in Bene’s direction, I set off, continuing my walk. The bushes behind me rustled as he followed. Stupid lion!
I continued another few steps then whirled to shout, “Enough already! I mean it, Bene. I really need some time alone.”
I half expected an off-color joke about a woman like me needing exactly the opposite, though he didn’t utter a word. He remained crouched just out of sight.
Well, okay. He couldn’t speak in lion form, I supposed. That didn’t mean he was allowed to be a jerk.
“You know, I thought you were the decent one of the bunch,” I grumbled aloud. “The only one who—”
A lion appeared on the path beside me, snarling at the bushes before us.
I stared at him, then at the bushes. Oh. Oops. That hadn’t been Bene trying to spook me.
I squinted into the darkness and called, “Roux?” as unlikely as that was. He didn’t have Bene’s juvenile sense of humor. In fact, he didn’t have a sense of humor at all. So why was he hiding in the bushes?
Soft, warm fur pressed against my leg as Bene nudged closer. My heart skipped a beat, because wow. It wasn’t every day youfound yourself touching a full-grown lion. I inched my hand out, stroking the outermost wisps of his magnificent golden mane.
The ridge of hair along Bene’s spine stood stiff. His long, tufted tail twitched, and his lips peeled back in a ferocious snarl.
I gulped, looking back at the bushes. Okay, that wasn’t Roux out there. Henrik, maybe?
My hands curled into fists, and I called out again. “You know, I’ve really had it with—”
Bene swatted me with his tail. I blinked at him, then at the bushes. Clearly, Bene considered this serious — dead serious. He kept up that low, dangerous rumble, telling Henrik to back the hell off.
A shadow glided into my peripheral vision, and I turned to stare. It took ten long seconds to make out the outline of another feline. Thanks to his stripes, he blended into the foliage perfectly.
Roux. Like Bene, he faced the bushes and growled.
I gulped. This was definitely not good.
My mind spun, and the only conclusion I could come to was that Henrik had completely lost his marbles and was stalking me, either to scare me or to suck my blood.
“Psst. Mina,” Henrik called from my right.
