Chapter Fifteen
Lilith
Lilith blinked her eyes open as the ribcage of a great beast bloomed into focus, the timbered support beams of the ceiling
of Brackenmere Manor’s Great Hall. “What—?”
She tried to sit up and was rewarded with a flash of pain at the back of her head.
“Don’t sit up too quickly.” Asher’s large hand went to her shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You fainted and hit your
head.”
She gently lay back down. “You didn’t catch me?”
“You weren’t close enough.”
She gingerly probed the back of her skull, where a lump was beginning to swell. “My hero.”
His mouth hitched up at the corner. Was that…almost a smile?
“Stay there a moment, yeah?” He pulled his phone from his pocket and a brilliant light cut through the dark, straight into her brain.
She flinched away.
“Shh,” he soothed. “I know it’s uncomfortable but look at the light.”
Ever the trusting lamb, she steeled herself against the pain and looked directly into the phone’s flashlight. Behind the penetrating
glow, he studied her eyes.
The light mercifully clicked off.
“Now follow my finger.” He moved his forefinger side to side in front of her face, then up and down. “Good. Are you well enough
to stand?”
“I think I’ll just keep lying on this dusty floor, thank you.”
He tilted his head. “Sarcasm will get you a cold night’s sleep.”
“Is that a threat?” Lilith allowed him to guide her into a sitting position.
“How do you feel?”
Oh, what a question.
Like she had just stepped into a time warp haunted by translucent memories of the past. Like she had no idea why she was even
here, aside from a weird tingling birthmark. Like maybe she might have just seen a ghost.
Oh, and like this all might somehow kill her—make her cease to exist—whatever—at some point.
But ladies weren’t supposed to say things like that. Instead, she replied simply with, “Fine.”
Asher watched her in silent expectation, clearly skeptical of her glib brush-off. “Any feelings of unsteadiness?”
“No.”
“Would you like to try standing?”
Lilith almost nodded, but the throb in her skull had her murmuring her assent instead.
The skin around Asher’s eyes tightened. “Maybe wait another moment. Don’t want you standing up too soon.”
Lilith offered a smile of relief, hating how much this small show of attention made her feel more cared for than she’d been
in years.
There had been so much time tending to Mama when she was sick, and being lambasted with abuse for her efforts. Even before
the cancer, Mama had been about as cuddly as a gator.
But Asher was genuinely concerned.
For Lilith.
Warm tears pricked her eyes, and she lowered her face in horror.
Was she really about to cry?
Here this guy was trying not to get sued when she almost concussed herself in his ancient manor house, and she was dissolving
into tears because his modicum of attention made her finally feel like she mattered.
“Are you a doctor?” she asked, distracting herself from being so ridiculously pathetic.
“A vet, actually.”
She lifted her head in surprise, and he gave a single shoulder shrug. “I’m not really the best with people.”
“Oh?” She kept her voice light, teasing. “Imagine that…”
That little quirk at the corner of his mouth made another appearance.
“I’ve always done well with animals though.” Asher offered a bemused smile, the first she’d seen since her arrival. “And if
you’re in need of a distemper vaccine, I can be of assistance.”
“My temper is perfectly fine, thank you.”
“It’s actually a common vaccine for dogs, to keep them from a deadly disease.”
Lilith’s face went hot. “Sorry, we never had pets.”
Asher pulled back a fraction of an inch, enough to reflect that Lilith was suddenly not to be trusted.
“It was my mama.” Lilith looked at the floor where her jean-clad legs lay stretched out against the dirty stone tile. “She
didn’t want pets in the house. Afraid they might get mud all over her floral furniture.”
“Animals do have an affinity for destroying floral furniture, I’m afraid.”
Was he flirting?
“As well they should,” Lilith offered. “It’s all hideous.” She looked shyly up at him. “I’ve always wanted a pet though. Guess
I can have one now.”
Asher’s mouth opened, likely to ask what she meant. She hadn’t meant to drag the conversation into Mama territory. That whole
mess was supposed to stay back in Savannah.
“Tell me more about the manor,” she said quickly. “I’d expected the inside to be empty, but there’s all this furniture. And
so much is modern—unless Formica existed in the seventeenth century.” She grinned.
He didn’t.
She cleared her throat. “Is it like that in the rest of the house?”
Asher nodded.
“When did people stop living here?” Lilith noted the room’s disuse. Not only the velvety layer of dust, but also the distinctive
musty odor permeating the air. The scent was one she was familiar with in her old home with the rooms she seldom entered.
“We should put some ice on your head to minimize the swelling,” Asher said abruptly.
Was he avoiding answering the question?
But the mention of her head made the pain intensify, pulsing in time with her heartbeat, and she conceded defeat. For now.
Asher put one hand between her shoulder blades and offered her the other. She accepted, unable to keep from noting the heat of his fingers against her own. He lifted her easily to her feet, his touch lingering. “Are you steady?”
“Yes, thank you.”
He nodded and dropped his hands, turning for the door, clearly eager to leave.
And could she blame him? She’d just passed out on the floor.
“I don’t usually do this,” she called, rushed after him. “Fainting, I mean. I…I thought I saw something.”
He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. “What do you mean?”
“A figure?” She sifted through her memory, trying to decide exactly how to reply honestly without seeming like she’d lost
her mind.
He turned toward her and frowned.
“There had been a sound before that,” she added.
His frown deepened. “There are a lot of broken windows. Sometimes the wind makes strange noises as a result.”
“It was a banging.”
“Probably the wind knocking a broken window frame against the wall.”
Lilith wanted to press, to know what he’d witnessed.
But she’d been raised not to push or pry into other people’s affairs. No one liked a nuisance. Instead, she seized the opportunity
for an excuse to drop the subject. “Yeah.” She gave him a sweet Southern smile. “That was probably it.”
He nodded, the matter resolved, and strode to the door. Once outside, he flicked the key in the lock with a firm twist of
his wrist and led the way to the house at a quicker pace than they’d arrived.
As if he wanted to get far away from Brackenmere Manor.