Chapter Four #7
She muttered an excuse—something about the sun rising soon—and left him at the piano, lost in thought.
She was relieved not to hear him bang his fists against the keyboard or slam the lid, shattering the instrument to splinters.
There were already a few incidents at the Coven involving her and broken glasses and window panes, while she still learnt how to control her strength.
The servants complied, cleaning after her, and replaced what was broken, but Mihaela did not need to read their minds to know how unpleasant and frightening they found the task.
She hoped the music room would remain intact and that no mortal crossed paths with Jean-étienne tonight.
“The masters are at the bathhouse,” the hall boy said, placing Mihaela’s bags at the foot of the bed.
Her room was on the second floor, nearest the staircase.
The only staircase in the house, she noted, unsure of what to make of this decision.
During her stay in Berlin, Mihaela had grown used to walking through long corridors, passing from one hall into another, each floor having at least two staircases and numerous fireplaces.
There were hidden corridors and stairs for the servants; but here, in Béziers, the staff was constantly crossing paths with each other and the residents.
“The bathroom is across that door, Mademoiselle,” the hall boy explained from where he stood under the doorframe, a respectable distance from her, arms clasped behind his back.
“The masters’ bedroom is on the floor below.
The library and the drawing room are on the ground floor.
The masters have given you leave of the house, and of the garden, if it pleases you. ”
“When will they be back from the bathhouse?” Mihaela eyed the furniture in the room, happy to find a writing desk, plenty of lamps and candles.
A solid wooden chest would serve as storage for her few belongings.
A baldaquin rose to the ceiling with its heavy curtains of dark canopy, obscuring most of the bed.
Flowers were already set in a vase on the nightstand.
A bouquet of dayflowers and snapdragons.
The hall boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seeming to consider his answer.
“I’m not sure, Mademoiselle,” he confessed, his cheeks flushing red. “But they did say you may join them if you were not too exhausted from the journey.”
It was Mihaela’s turn to frown. She did not recall passing many buildings on the car ride from the train station. Especially not ones that looked like they might be a spa or bathhouse. Most of the windows were bare and dark, the city was still sleeping.
Seeing her expression the hall boy quickly added:
“The bathhouse is in the basement, Mademoiselle. Go to the bottom of the staircase, you won’t miss it” he gestured to the stairs. “If you are going down, I can let a maid know. Everything you’d need for the thermae is down there, really. Towels, brushes, cosmetics.”
Mihaela nodded along and thanked him. The idea of relaxing in hot water was inviting now that she did not have to leave the building.
After dismissing the hall boy, she changed clothes and wrapped her hair in a handkerchief.
She made her way down, trying to imagine what a vampire bathhouse looked like and failing as the temperature started to rise and the air got humid.
It was easy to find the entrance to the so-called thermae, the sound of running water beckoned her and she passed first through an antechamber with stone benches and sculptured pillars holding up the high ceiling.
The second room was the bath itself with its tiled floors and ceiling in azure.
She saw a fountain at the far end of the pool, the water running down from it was clear and alive with movement.
A shape swam in the pool, its long limbs scraping the water and causing little waves to brush the fountain. The steam curled around her ankles, making her sweat, uncomfortable in the thin layer of her clothes.
“I am glad to see you have arrived safely. Was the journey pleasant?”
Mihaela turned towards the familiar voice.
Silvio was with his back to her, submerged in the water, arms draped along the edges of the pool, eyes closed and wet hair brushed back from his face.
The moisture clung to his naked skin making it glisten.
One hand toying with the water, letting it sluice through his fingers.
The steam rose from Silvio giving him the appearance of a water djinn, a creature waiting for the right moment to grab and pull her in.
“It was fine,” she said.
Getting to France was slower than expected, her travel depended on timetables and the cover of darkness.
She was glad to reach the tower with enough hours of the night to spare.
It would have been a pity to arrive and immediately hide because the sun had caught up with her.
There was so much to explore within this Coven, so much art to look and wonder over.
And the library—maybe I should have gone there first for a quick overview?
Now, standing at the edge of the pool, she hesitated how to ask her host for what she needed.
“You can get in if you want,” Silvio invited her, fingers swaying back and forth, the water looked so alluring and warm.
It was then that Mihaela realised there were no separate pools, no other chambers besides this one.
She would have to strip and share the same water as him.
It felt strange to be squeamish over something so mundane as this, when there was plenty of room and the steam obscured most of her vision.
Even if she squinted hard enough, she could not see Silvio’s lower half and legs in the water, not clearly at least. Besides, he was not paying attention to her, he was watching the figure swimming in the pool.
The swimmer was making their way back. Mihaela saw the long locks of hair spread like tentacles in the water, the body of a man taking shape as it got nearer.
When he reached the shallow ground, the man stepped out and walked the remaining distance.
He brushed back his hair, letting it stick to his chest and back, and made to ease himself in the space between Silvio and a pillar.
He noticed Mihaela standing at the back of the room, and cocked his head to the side, the water trickling down his body.
“Ah, there she is. The scholar arriveth!” The Comte greeted and sat next to Silvio.
Mihaela had forgotten the drawl with which Emerick spoke. His voice was heavy and sweet like honey. Like syrup dripping in all the wrong places.
Since the last time she had seen them, Mihaela had dedicated herself to masking her thoughts, setting up barriers.
It was hard to practice in Berlin where every vampire surpassed her by centuries, but she tried.
They could still enter her mind, but now it took some effort and she even pushed back.
Sometimes with success, other times, with a nosebleed and an embarrassing anecdote from high school made public to the whole court.
Ingenuar had bellowed with laughter when he learned that she had tried to take dancing lessons as a teenager, but gave up in a week because all her friends were doing volleyball instead.
And then the volleyball lessons had lasted even less once she realised she had no patience or stamina for sports.
“You will have plenty of opportunities to dance here, my daughter,” the All Father had assured her and for a moment Mihaela was worried that he meant to organise a debutante ball.
Leaving her clothes in a neat pile on a bench, Mihaela walked to the edge of the pool, all the way to the end and slowly submerged.
The warm water scalded her skin, enfolding her instantly in a delicious and drowsy embrace.
The groan that escaped her lips was drowned by the sound of the running water from the fountains.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Mihaela plunged her head underwater and propelled herself towards the sculptures in the middle of the pool.
If she wanted to she could stay down with the minutes ticking away and her lungs growing to a halt.
She was sure she could drown if she put her mind to it, but decided not to test the limits of her immortal body.
When she resurfaced at the feet of the statue she saw that it was of a man and some kind of feline creatures surrounded him.
The water flowed from his mouth and eyes with such force, the sight made her uncomfortable.
Shaking her head Mihaela turned and swam back with the same force, letting all of her frustration out.
Her angry splashes showered Silvio with water.
The Marquis spat and wiped a hand across his face.
“You two are insufferable. This pool is not meant for swimming.”
“Then you should have made it bigger,” Emerick goaded him.
“How was I to predict you would use it for competitive swimming,” Silvio knitted his brows and reached for a towel.
His hand closed around the cloth in a moist fist, water running between his fingers and he flung it onto the ground with a curse.
Mihaela pressed her back against the tiled wall and allowed herself to relax all over.
She closed her eyes, tuning out the bickering.
She still did not understand how this place had come to be and why, but she liked it.
She liked it better than the Berlin Coven.
Another groan escaped her lips, this time overcome with pleasure.
“If you want a massage, that can be arranged. Back in the warm room,” Emerick’s voice forced her to look in his direction.
He had turned around, resting his face in his crossed arms over the edge of the pool. With his long, wet hair he looked like a siren. His dark unblinking eyes watched her intently, a mouth full of sharp teeth. Mihaela would have shuddered if it was not for the overwhelming heat of the thermae.