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Not wanting to spend more time thinking of how her life might change, she stood and slowly counted the steps to the doorway of the sitting room. With a hand along the wall, she did the same to the stairs and down to the entry foyer. While she didn't have the entire house mapped out—that would take weeks—she'd gone back and forth at least a dozen times from the front door to the parlor Nora had given her to use as her own.
Grace always felt better knowing how to get to at least one exit in case of fire, or worse.
The door opened and a voice she'd never heard before—a male who hailed from London, she judged by his accent—boomed. "Where's River Vale?"
The butler cleared his throat. "And you are, sir?"
Steps echoed as someone moved away from the door and along the far wall, but stopped suddenly. Maybe the unknown male had seen her.
Then he asked, "Who're you? Some sort of shifter, judging by your scent, but I don't recognize you."
Even if he tried to make his voice cold, something about it stirred her inner wolf. "I don't introduce myself to strangers, sir."
"You're Scottish. And judging by your brown hair and blue eyes, and the shape of your nose, you must be related to Everett Black."
Grace had heard how much she resembled her brother, but it must be more obvious than anyone had let on.
Still, she was more cautious of strangers than most. So she turned back toward the staircase. "I must take my leave."
She carefully raised her foot and began ascending the steps. However, she slipped on the third one—they didn't have any carpet on the stairs like she was used to—and she tried to brace her fall.
However, a pair of hands caught her under the arms and hauled her back against a firm, warm chest.
And all she could think about was how solid, and hot, and almost safe the presence behind her felt.
Stop being ridiculous, Gracie.It'd been too many years since she'd felt a male's touch, that's all. She'd grown tired of males wanting to bed the poor blind girl, which she'd later found out were mostly because of bets.
Grace tried to extract herself, but the male's hot breath whispered against her neck as he said, "You can't see. I know who you are now. You must be Miss Grace Black, Everett's little sister."
For a beat, her mind and mouth refused to work. No, her body wanted to lean back into his touch and encourage him to move his hands from under her arms to her breasts.
Don't be a bloody idiot.She pushed those thoughts away, reached out her hands until she found the banister railing, and tugged away from the male.
He let go. But judging by his voice, he was still far too close to her. "Your brother asked me to check in on you whilst I was here, since he's still in London. I'm the fae witch Dark Lord, William Khan, at your service."
Her mouth dropped open. She'd just lusted after a fae witch, and not just any fae witch, the bloody leader of them all.
One who also happened to be called the Wielder of Nightmares.
Rationally, she knew her brother would never send a threat directly to her. And yet she wondered why Everett would send a male with such a dangerous reputation to this house.
His voice was further away when he added, "I mean you no harm, Miss Black. I'm here to help Dr. Vale. Could you tell me where he is?"
She cleared her throat and her brain started to function again. "How do I know you are indeed Dark Lord Khan? As you observed, I can't see. And I've never heard your voice before either." Nor had she inhaled his spicy male scent, not that she'd say that aloud. "You could be anyone."
Amusement tinged his voice. "I would demonstrate I am indeed the Wielder of Nightmares, but I'd rather not frighten you further."
He meant he'd conjure a horrifying vision to prove his identity. Although before she could stop herself, she blurted, "But it wouldn't work on me, would it? Because I can't see."
He paused a beat. "That's a valid point. I've never tried on someone who lacked one of their senses before. Of course, I'm not going to start with you. I'm merely here to help Dr. Vale. If you won't divulge that information, then scurry back upstairs, lock the door to keep me out, and I'll deal with the butler."
Rationally, she should heed his order and run to safety.
However, something about his tone, and his voice, irked her inner wolf, challenged her in an odd way.
Which meant no running from him, or her wolf would probably take over, shift, and go looking for him again.
Not wanting that—she was even more ungainly in her wolf form—Grace stood tall, put her shoulders back, and stated, "He is outdoors with Miss Yates. You should wait for them in the front parlor. I'll have tea and scones sent to you, along with a maid to pour."
