I exhaled through my teeth. “Do you know his name?”
“Matthias Corvinus Andrássy, Count of Bethlen. Does it ring a bell?”
“I think…” Bits and pieces of memories flashed through my mind. “He visited me.”
“I’ll be jiggered.” He put the book aside. “He might be your sire.”
“He was looking for Odette.” The episode wasn’t exactly a memory; it felt more like a dream.
“His wife?”
“Please.” I blew out a breath. “But why did he turn me, only to leave me?”
Darius leant back in the chair, thinking. “Good question. Do you remember anything else?”
I tried to grasp more details, but they eluded me. “Not really.”
“Keep thinking about him. Your memory will return.”
I started to leave but paused. “What can I do to overcome my…you know, fear?”
“I can heal a wound on your body, not your mind.”
“Yes, yes, but what might help? There must be other things.” With Irene so close, I wanted to work on my fear so I could hold her hand or hug her.
He rested his chin on his fist as the pencils twirled around him. “Exercises, fresh vegetables, long walks, cold baths?”
“Cold baths?”
“Make your body numb. It’s worth a try.” He grinned.
“All right.” I was never sure whether he was joking or not.
As I headed for Irene’s bedroom, Fiona had the audacity to block my passage.
I stopped not to bump into her. “What?”
“Why did you claim the new wili as yours?” She stuck out her bottom lip. “Does it mean you aren’t going to drink from me anymore?”
“It means that what I do is none of your business.” I sidestepped her, but she wasn’t finished.
“I don’t think it’s right. She’s just arrived, and I’ve been your provider for a while.”
“And I’m very grateful. But what you feel during the feeding isn’t real. It’s the bite. I’ve told you many times.”
“Can’t you claim me as well?” She wasn’t listening.
“No, I can’t, and what would Myrtha say?”
She hesitated, and I took advantage of her indecision to sidestep her. I was too quick for her to follow me.
I hadn’t told Irene that I could force her to obey me since I was her master. When we’d talked, she’d been so overwhelmed that I hadn’t wanted to upset her further. But I had no intention of employing my power over her, so there was no point in telling her.
I paused before knocking. The tug on my chest drew me closer to her.
I had no idea how to make Irene forgive me or trust me. My past life as a street thief didn’t help, and the more recent years as the duke had been about surviving, something I was familiar with. Dealing with a special woman like Irene, who had been hurt, was another matter. I’d wanted to keep Irene’s world and mine separate to protect her, and the result was that she was a wili.
I knocked and prepared to be sent to hell. But I already lived in hell. “Irene? Can we talk?”
