Chapter 12
Haven
Feeling too stiff in the feather-cushioned seat, I try everything to focus on the circular room around me.
The tables that were once occupied by Henri’s party guests are now empty and bare of all decorations.
There is no band playing a sweet melody against the far wall, no dancing, no laughter.
There is only Henri, who sits beside me at the long, head table, slicing through the roast on his plate and placing it on his tongue in silence.
I glance down at my own plate, seeing the untouched loaf of bread, roast, potatoes, and greens. A thick knot sits in the pit of my belly, the same one that had formed when Avrum told me about my father’s death.
Before I had come to dinner, I’d spent the passing hours in my room, lying face down on my bed and weeping silently into the quilt until my body shook. Even now, as I stare mindlessly at the place setting before me, I can feel my eyes begin to sting with tears.
I can’t cry. Not in front of Henri. It’ll only cause questions, ones I don’t want to answer.
Letting my gaze travel the length of the grand staircase, I search for something—anything—to distract myself.
At the top of the landing, Keagan stands at attention with his hands behind his back and his spine straight.
When he spots me watching, he peers down his hooked nose and smirks, exposing pointed teeth.
My skin crawls and I quickly avert my gaze to the only other way out of the ballroom.
In front of the main doors, Avrum’s friend, Lysander, guards the exit, his hooded eyes looking straight ahead but seeing nothing at all.
His features are hard and solid. Almost bored, and I can’t help but wonder where his loyalties truly lie. How could Avrum trust him so freely?
The thought of Avrum makes my cheeks flame.
Every muscle in my body tenses as the memory of what we’d done in the attic room rushes back.
His hands on me. His body thrusting into mine without remorse.
The feeling of his hot breath on my neck…
The thought alone is enough to send a spiral of warmth to my lower belly again.
I never thought being with a man could be like that.
And, like every previous interaction, he was so careful with me, never wanting to scare me or hurt me.
But this time I’d wanted more; I wanted him to know I wasn’t fragile, and when he finally gave me what I craved most… I’d come completely undone in his arms.
It’s an experience I’ll never forget.
When Henri’s eyes flicker my way, I hold my breath as much as my tight bodice will allow.
I’m sure he can pick up the changes in my heartrate, so I try to settle myself and grab my fork, hastily switching my attention to the potatoes on my plate.
Only when he goes back to his own meal do I feel it’s safe to inhale again.
If Henri finds out about what Avrum and I had done, my chances of escaping will be crushed.
I run my hands over the crimson-colored dress that had been chosen for me to wear. I’m too hot and itchy under its velvet fabric, but I just need get through this dinner, the next two nights, and the party, then me, Emma, and Avrum will be out of this place forever. Gone. Free.
Henri snatches my hand from my lap, and I gasp.
“Stop your fidgeting,” he mutters sharply, but then guides my hand to his lips for a kiss. “My dearest Haven, you haven’t touched your dinner.” Letting me go, he reaches for his glass of wine instead and takes a sip.
I force myself to give him an apologetic smile, then wait for him to finish sipping his wine before answering.
“I’m sorry, my lord, but I am not very hungry this evening.
” I roll the words over again in my head and pray that they don’t sound offensive in some way.
I still need to keep his fangs out of my neck before the party, and that means doing whatever I have to do to keep him happy.
Watching me intently, Henri puts down the glass a little too hard, causing a few ruby drops to slide down the side.
His face, though, remains cool and unbothered.
“This has turned out to be a nice evening, hasn’t it?
” he says as his thumb runs up the glass, catching one of the trails before it can reach the cloth underneath.
The color stains the tip of his white gloves.
The memory of my own blood on his fingers spring to my mind, and my stomach turns even more.
“Yes…” Acid pushes up my throat, and I swallow roughly. “It has.”
He turns in his seat and touches the side of my face.
“You have to be the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” When his thumb runs along my bottom lip, I can feel the wetness of the wine droplet there, can vaguely taste its bitterness as he traces the outline of my mouth. “And you are entirely mine.”
A loud knocking causes me to jump in my seat, and Henri’s head whips toward the door. Henri nods Lysander’s way, and he opens it, revealing Avrum on the other side.
I freeze. He seems even more handsome now than when I’d seen him last. He has changed out of his white shirt and now wears an emerald-green jacquard vest, an undershirt with a ruffled collar, and black slacks.
His hair is brushed and tied neatly back, but his eyes sparkle with our shared secret when he finds me.
“Avrum,” Henri greets, gesturing him to come forward. “What news do you have for me? As you can see, I’m in the middle of dinner.”
He comes to the opposite side of the table, and I look away, afraid that if my gaze lingers too long, I’ll reveal something I shouldn’t. But it’s harder than it should be. From the corner of my eye, I see him bow low.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, my lord,” he says to Henri. “I wanted to tell you of the arrangements I’ve made for the event this Saturday night.”
I glance at Henri, who leans back in his chair and drums his fingers against the table beside his plate. I try to read him, to see what he can possibly be thinking, but his smoldering coal eyes stay fixed on Avrum, and his thin upper lip twitches in annoyance.
There’s a long pause, and in that stillness, I’m terrified he knows something more than he’s saying and all our chances of escaping will slip away.
Slowly, Henri turns to me. “It seems like I must cut our dinner short,” he says. “If you gain an appetite, I can have food sent to your room for you.”
He doesn’t have to say a thing more. I know that he means for me to leave them alone.
As I stand, Henri snatches me by the elbow and pulls me in close. His lips hover near my ear. “I want you to come to my bed tonight,” he whispers, and my heart drops, knowing exactly what he means by that. “I’ll call for you.”
When he lets me go, my legs tremble and I suddenly feel dizzy. The room spins.
“Miss Haven—” Avurm’s worried voice calls to me, but when Henri’s gaze snaps his way, he says nothing more.
Slowly, I move around the table and to the door, clutching my stomach. I feel so ill, I might vomit. Henri wants me to come to his bed. I won’t be able to escape him this time.
The clicking of my heels cut through the silence of the room. Had Avrum heard what Henri said too? Better yet, what were we going to do about it?
I fight the urge to look back at him. All I can do is pray hope isn’t lost.
Avrum
Ihate to watch her walk away. She looks stunning in her deep-red gown that sweeps the mosaic floor in a long train behind her. But I also didn’t miss the terror in her eyes.
Of course I had heard Henri’s request to her. He’d said it just loud enough to make sure I had.
Bastard.
I grit my teeth, wanting nothing more than to take the glass from his hand, break it against the table, and plunge a piece into his neck. Or better yet, the knife lying innocently across his finished dinner plate, or even the sword at my hip.
How could I have ever looked up to this man, this snake? Now, I long to be the one to kill him.
The moment Lysander closes the door and she’s gone from sight, I’m hyper aware of Henri’s presence again. In between Henri’s two fingers, a glass of wine is perched, and with a simple twist of his wrist, the goblet sways back and forth.
Henri clears his throat, waiting on me to speak. I bow my head again, using the moment to compose myself. Now isn’t the time. We still have two days to get through alive, and only then will it be possible to act on my thoughts.
“So,” Henri begins, his tone full of impatience, “tell me what you need to and leave.”
“I have prepared for as many guests as you entertained last party,” I reply. “About fifty or so.”
Henri grins. “Good.” But, after a brief pause, he adds, “Although I have only invited four guests this time.”
I stare at him, confused. Henri laughs.
“Yes, it’s true. But I am glad you’ve prepared for a party that large.
These men are my equals or superiors and should be treated as such.
So keep your plans. I need this evening to be grand.
” Henri pushes out his chair, the glass still swinging between his fingers as he speaks.
“I will introduce you to them when they arrive. They are great men, men of power, experience, and wisdom. One, in particular—Malcolm—is my father.”
I don’t miss it when his eyes snap Lysander’s way. Or how Lysander stiffens in place, his face growing a little paler. He’s in shock, something I never thought I’d see on the man.
He knows of Henri’s father? And from his reaction, I’d say very well, in fact.
“I mean father in the sense that he gave me this immortal life, as I have given to you. It is crucial that he see how I’ve used this gift he bestowed upon me and how I have helped so many. Like you and Haven.”
I say nothing.
He walks around the table to stand before me. “I will have you on my right hand and Haven on my left—the epitome of excellence.”
Not sure what else to do, I bow again, my eyes flickering back to Lysander. My friend has recovered from his partially paralyzed state but is now mouthing the name “Malcolm” to himself in disbelief.
If this Malcolm had shaken Lysander so much, there may be more to worry about than just Henri and our escape attempt. We may be in trouble.
“Now go.” Henri waves me off, his voice sharp. “Prepare four rooms in the east wing. I am sure they will be staying a night or two.”
As I stride to the door, Lysander and I lock stares. Is that actual fear I see on his face? Dread? I thought nothing could scare him like this. It makes my own heart thunder.
Have we been doomed from the start?