AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bree shoots me a look as she follows her father. Edward folds his arms and grins triumphantly from the top of the stairs. I give him a nod. Edward and I make a great team.
He bites his bottom lip, and I try not to think about the other day, when I came to him for advice on lovemaking. I was supposed to pretend that he was Bree while I kissed him, but it was difficult because Edward doesn’t kiss like Bree. He kisses exactly the way you expect.
What I didn’t expect was that I liked it.
But I don’t have time to think about kissing when we are in the heart of battle. The doorbell rings. Gwen bustles the next couple inside – two women wearing flouncy dresses – and she decides this time to begin in the kitchen. This is good news, because that is my room.
Edward makes all the lights flicker as they enter the large kitchen, but the couple don’t seem deterred when Gwen explains that away as old wiring. But we have a surprise waiting for them.
I hid my old Roman uniform behind the radiator. I haven’t been able to wear it since I because Living again. Bree said that I wouldn’t be able to blend in with it, and also that it smelled like the blood and sweat and filth of war.
I thought that our guests might like a whiff.
As our group moves to the centre of the kitchen to admire the Aga, the smell slams into us. Ooof. Even I must admit that it’s not pleasant. I can even smell the garum I spilt on there from my pre-battle breakfast.
Edward stands behind me, holding his nose with one hand while fanning the smell in our direction with the other.
The two women recoil. “What’s that smell?”
“Well, you see,” I explain, using a speech Ambrose prepared for me. “The house was built over the site of an ancient battleground. This room was right where the Roman soldiers set up their camp. It’s said that you can still smell the burning bodies of the Celtic warriors they slayed, as well as the acrid tang of their fishy garum sauce.”
(This isn’t entirely true; the camp was near the back of the garden, with easy access to the water supply and a more defensible perimeter, but Ambrose said that didn’t matter.)
“It reeks.” The taller of the two women pinches her nose.
“Do you mean that there are Roman soldier ghosts marauding about the place?” The shorter woman clutches a crystal necklace in her long fingers.
“Oh, yes, a whole legion of them,” I say brightly. “They’re great company. They will teach you drinking games.”
“Bree, please tell your boyfriend to stop telling such ridiculous stories,” snaps Gwen.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
The two women exchange a look that implies they’re not accepting of sharing their new home with Roman ghosts.
Heathens! May Mars curse them all.
When Bree doesn’t do anything, Gwen turns to Sylvie. “Get rid of that smell!”
“I don’t know where it’s coming from?” Sylvie wails. She grabs her pie off the counter. “Here, sniff this beautiful homemade pie.Thisis what the house usually smells like—woah!”
As Sylvie leans toward the women, Edward sticks out his foot and, because Bree is nearby with moldavite in her pocket, Sylvie trips over it. She goes flying. The pie sails from her hands and hits the tall woman in the face.
“Argh!” The woman staggers backwards. Apple and pie crust drip down her cheeks.
The women leave soon afterwards. Next, Gwen lets in two brothers from a hotel chain, but they’re turned away when Edward pulls books off the shelves in the nook and pages through them.
Then there is the London lawyer, who runs out after opening the linen cupboard to discover my sword resting on the towels, with the dried blood still staining the blade. I wave at him as he scrambles into his four-wheeled horseless carriage. His feet are still sticking out the window as he races away.
While Gwen is having a meltdown in the kitchen, I take a tin of tuna from the cat food cupboard and move through the empty guest rooms, smearing it into the vents so that the smell moves through the whole house. It’s quite clever, actually. Ambrose was the one who thought of it. He has a rather devious streak when—
“Pax, what are you doing?”
I whirl around. The tuna can clatters on the floor.
Bree is standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, looking delicious enough to eat even though her honey eyes are flashing.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I whisper innocently. “I’m putting fish in the vents.”
