Chapter Seven
MINA
By eventually clearing this space, I’d meant in a few weeks. But Roux and his crew cleared enough room in the stable to U-turn my little Citroen in, all before lunch. By the end of the day, the entire area was clear, and they’d even made a dent into the first few stalls.
Maybe even a dent in my heart.
“Good work, everyone,” I said, calling it a day with a broad smile.
For the first time since the guys arrived, things were starting to look up.
“Who won?” Bene asked, indicating the roadster.
Roux looked at me just as eagerly.
I chuckled. “It’s a tie. You all win today.”
Bene groaned. “Just like fourth grade.”
“Fifth,” I sighed as he and Roux elbowed each other, rushing to get to the Jaguar first.
They took turns sitting in the driver’s seat. Bene took selfies. Roux didn’t actually make vroom, vroom sounds when he got behind the steering wheel, but he didn’t look far off. Marius and Henrik showed a little more restraint, but I could see the happy sparkles in their eyes.
I would definitely be dangling the classic-car carrot in front of them on their next workday.
Too bad that was a whole week away. I worked alone for the next few days, painting, plastering, and plugging leaks.
Madame Picard arrived an hour before lunch each day and stayed until dinner, churning out meal after delicious meal.
I’d finally found extra help in the form of Claudette, a young woman who’d recently returned to Auberre.
Her departure and return had both come under mysterious circumstances, making her the hush-hush talk of the town.
Then again, having more than your ears pierced could fuel the rumor mill in Auberre — and rumor had it that Claudette’s nose and ears weren’t the only parts of her body that had been pierced. Quel scandale!
She wore her hair short and stylishly messy, along with extra-short shorts and tank tops that revealed enough tattoos for a crew of pirates. What she lacked in feminine curves, she made up for in heavy chains and sheer attitude.
I would have preferred not to throw such a young, nubile, flirty thing into the shark tank of my clients. But there wasn’t anyone else, and Claudette was old enough to make her own decisions. Or so I hoped.
As expected, she was an instant hit with the guys, who would have stretched breakfast out into brunch if it weren’t for Roux’s insistence on discipline.
Thanks to him, they trudged off at eight a.m. to keep busy with their thing. Training, they called it, though it was unclear what they were training for.
I cared less and less, though, because the sight was pretty…er, impressive.
“One…two…three…” Claudette tapped her finger on the window, admiring Bene’s six-pack — or, as the French so aptly put it, tablette de chocolat.
The obstacle course had doubled in size, and they raced around it, leaping, hopping, and climbing like Olympic athletes. They even made crawling look good.
After a round or two of the course, they would disappear into the woods for who knew what. Every once in a while, an earsplitting roar or yowl would explode and trees shook.
“Better not to ask,” Madame Picard sighed as I stared out the window.
Claudette didn’t seem concerned. She was human but had spent her years away from Auberre hanging with a supernatural crowd in Paris — the wrong supernatural crowd, according to Madame Picard. So, shifters and vampires didn’t faze her.
Roux and Bene raced each other over the next circuit, and the winner — Roux, by an inch — raised an arm in triumph.
Madame Picard sighed dreamily. She, Claudette, and I didn’t have a lot in common, but we were united in our mutual appreciation for tablette de chocolat.
Eventually, the men would move on to a few rounds of weights. Very big, very heavy weights. It was mesmerizing.
“My favorite part,” Claudette breathed.
I left the kitchen, detouring unnecessarily through the dining room to grab one more peek before hurrying on to my latest task — tracing a leak in the east wing.
The next time I peeked outside, I stopped to stare.
A lion leaped over the tires in a single bound, landing as agilely as — well, a cat — then bounding toward the next obstacle.
Sunlight dappled over his golden pelt, and his tail flicked playfully.
Pure Bene — different packaging, same joie de vivre.
The striped tiger went around the course with his teeth clenched, exuding intensity and sheer power. His coat shimmered as he sailed gracefully over the length of the crawling pit, and he landed soundlessly.
Marius was nowhere to be seen — but maybe that was a good thing. The man was overwhelming in human form. As a dragon, he would be downright terrifying.
Henrik leaned against the shaded barn wall, looking bored.
A split second after I located him, he turned directly toward me. I jumped back from the window, making the curtains sway, then cursed myself. Not a good look.
My heart pounded for a long time afterward. It was one thing to know that your houseguests were shifters. Quite another to see them prowling around as beasts.
And as for the vampire… I touched the wooden stake I’d taken to carrying up my sleeve.
All in all, everyone settled into a routine, and we even developed a level of trust.
Well, maybe trust was an overstatement.
I trusted Bene to maintain a positive attitude and not to go out of his way to kill me. But trust him with any real responsibility? Not a chance.
I trusted Roux to lead by impeccable example, whether the others followed or not.
I trusted Henrik…er, no. I didn’t.
And as for Marius, well… I could count on him to scowl and be aloof, but I couldn’t figure him out beyond that — or why my heart skipped when he stomped into or out of a room.
He always skulked in to meals and training sessions a minute after everyone else — but never actually late.
He grumbled at any task assigned to him — then slaved away until it was perfectly done.
He ignored me to the point of rudeness ninety-nine percent of the time, but I could feel his gaze on me when my back was turned.
And if our eyes happened to meet… Well, the world seemed to grind to a halt for him too. Everything narrowed to a long, dark tunnel with him lit brightly at one end and me at the other, and a warm flush would creep into my cheeks.
Inevitably, one or the other of us would tear away and pretend it had never happened. But it did happen. Again and again.
Which was terribly confusing, because he hated me, and I had no interest in surly dragon shifters.
Claudette did, however, and boy, did that grate.
To my intense satisfaction, Marius ignored her.
To my intense annoyance, the other men did not, and she lapped up their misplaced attention.
“You know they’re just looking for fresh meat, right?” I dragged her aside to whisper.
She winked at Bene while chuckling to me. “Maybe I’m doing the same thing.”
Madame Picard was scandalized. Especially when Claudette put her moves on Henrik.
“Careful. He’s a vampire,” I warned, pulling Claudette aside a second time.
“Oh, I know,” she practically purred, eyeing him. “Believe me, I know.”
Now I was the one who was scandalized.
“Thank goodness you hired her to help with breakfast and lunch and not dinner,” Madame Picard observed.
At least there was that — the timing made it difficult for Claudette to disappear to enjoy “dessert” afterward.
But other than the jealousy — er, annoyance — Claudette stirred in me, things finally settled into a relatively peaceful routine.
Or so I thought, until the sound of shattering glass made me sprint to the drawing room one evening. What was going on?
I rushed in to find Henrik and Roux huffing, puffing, and generally going for each other’s throats while Bene and Marius looked on.
“I’ve had it with you!” Roux growled, shoving Henrik.
Henrik shoved back. “I’ve had it with you!” His fangs extended.
I saw that as clearly as I saw Roux’s facial hair thicken in a prelude to shifting. But more than anything, I saw how perilously close they were to my grandmother’s china cabinet.
I stomped over to separate them, but Bene stuck out a hand. “Wouldn’t get mixed up in that if I were you.” He steered me — and his wineglass — to safety.
I twisted out of his grip, barking, “Stop that!” when Henrik threw a punch at Roux.
Roux ducked, and my heart leaped, because Henrik’s momentum nearly carried him into the china cabinet.
“Stop it right now!” I yelled.
Henrik had his back to me, and I grabbed his shoulder.
“Watch it,” Bene called from behind, though the words were lost in Marius’s roar of warning.
A warning I didn’t heed, because that was my grandmother’s china. I’d promised her I would care for it as diligently as I cared for the chateau. I had to. My family’s legacy depended on me now.
“I said, stop!” I cried, tugging Henrik back.
He spun and ducked just as Roux let out a vicious punch.
“Watch it!” Bene yelled.
Too late. Like a deer in headlights, I stared at the fist flying toward me in fast, then terrifyingly slow, motion. Then my head snapped back. My teeth rattled. An explosion thundered through my mind, and I was dimly aware of falling backward.
Dim was a fitting word, because darkness closed in around me. I remembered falling, falling…then hitting the floor.
And then, there was nothing.