AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, indeed.” I tap my foot. “We should return to the manor soon. It is nearly time for dinner. Oh, Anvar, do us a favor? Would you mind terribly putting any complicated Machiavellian schemes on the back burner for at least a day or two?”
Anvar opens his mouth, pauses, then fixes me with a quizzical look. “On a back burner?”
“If you’re still planning to make life difficult for the other houses, put it on a shelf for now.”
“How does one put ideas on a shelf?” Anvar’s expression goes pained.
Tammy and Lindsey struggle to hold in laughter.
“Not literally. It’s something people from our world say.” I pause a moment to choose my words. “If you are still tempted to act against the other houses, don’t… at least for a week.”
“Ahh, yes.” Anvar smiles. “I had already prepared to let this current storm pass by without involving myself. Perhaps I will distract myself thoroughly with brush and goblet and let the distasteful ideas pass out of my mind.”
“That’s a good ‘perhaps’.” Kingsley nods at him.
“Well, it is too dark now to continue…” Anvar turns as if to walk away. “Time for me to retire inside for the evening. Until next time.”
When he’s gone, Kingsley says, “Food sounds good. Do you think Demetria’s staff is preparing a meal for us?”
Allison shrugs. “We should be so lucky. Let’s go see.”
With that, I hold out my hands and prepare to teleport us to our temporary home. If nothing else, the manor house offers us a place to talk and think without Nesanth knowing our every move.
Note to self: the next time someone offers me a job going up against a nearly omniscient being, ask for the money up front—and double my fee!
Chapter Eleven
The Perfect Opportunity
Turns out Demetria’s staff were cooking for us tonight.
It’s quite dark out now, and this house elevates the idea of creepy to an art form. If a vampire who adored being a vampire had the ability to design their manor to every exact detail they wanted, this would be the result. Despite the overabundance of gothic morbidity, there is a definite sensation of being removed from the outside world here. Lindsey and Allison think this manor house exists in a sub-dimension attached to Quentin’s world. Makes sense. If Nesanth knows and sees everything happening in that world, the only way to avoid it would be not to exist in that world.
This, of course, gets me wondering about Demetria and how powerful she might be. It’s not just anyone who can snap their fingers and make sub-dimensions appear. Surely, she must have been one of the more powerful dark masters. Powerful and smart... she didn’t follow Elizabeth to the bitter end. Not all dark masters accompanied the Queen Bitch into the various ascending dimensions. The ones who did go along with Elizabeth mostly all perished.
“So, how did you end up here like that?” I gesture at Demetria. “You’re really taking the whole vampire thing to the limit.”
She smiles over her black fingernails at me. “This is my true self.”
“Wait, you’re one of those ascended ones?” asks Allison.
“Oh, certainly not.” Demetria slightly scoffs to one side. “All efforts to acquire power comes with risks. Some risks are far too severe to be worth the chance.”
Of course, she’s talking about how those ascended ones died for good—as in the dark master gets destroyed entirely—if someone kills the physical body. A normal dark master simply gets punted back to the void if their host body is torched. Or, at least, they used to. Not really sure where they go now that the Void has been shattered.
“What happens to that poor woman when we’re done here?” asks Allison.
“Which poor woman?” Demetria glances at her.
“The one you’re possessing.”
Demetria laughs. “I am not possessing anyone. Were I to have gone the usual route, I’d have still been battering my will against the consciousness of the body’s native soul. Nesanth—and I—took advantage of a minor loophole with our dimensional crossing.”
Tammy folds her arms. “You had Quentin subconsciously write you into the story.”
“Something to that effect.” Demetria chuckles to herself. “This is my body, though it will only exist here for as long as suits my purposes.”
Interesting. I shift my jaw side to side. If Demetria managed to compel Quentin to ‘write her in’ here, does that mean both of them are in his head like two jealous teenagers trying to share a cramped bedroom? Ack. This could explain a lot of what’s going on here. Not that I’ve let my guard down, but if Demetria’s also inside Quentin’s mind… I should be extra wary.
