Lailah (The Styclar Saga) (27 page)

I nodded, surprised I didn’t get a little more fight out of him. I carefully moved back through the attic, and Jonah followed. He was forced to stoop to avoid hitting his head against the sloped ceiling. I hesitated, rocking from the balls of my feet to the base of my heels as the reason for his vague response occurred to me. Whirling around, I positioned my mouth next to his earlobe, and for once, not having to stand on my tiptoes to meet his face, I whispered, “Ruadhan’s listening, isn’t he.”

Pressing his palm against my cheek, gently moving my hair back, he murmured in my ear, “Yup.”

His breath tickled my bare neck and a tingle rippled the full length of my spine. I couldn’t help returning his naughty grin, but I tried to disguise it by rolling my eyes at him and carried on down the stairs, being careful not to lose my balance.

Ruadhan stood waiting in the kitchen, a glass of orange juice poured for me. “You look fresh, love, the sleep did you good. We were worried about you, but Gabriel said to let you sleep. I hope you don’t mind, he asked me to leave you with the chess set.”

I nodded and chugged the juice, realizing how thirsty I was.

He gestured to follow him into the living room and presented me with the wall-mounted flat screen, pulling out a drawer full of DVDs. “So, we’ll be here awhile. Gabriel thinks it’s best if you stay in the house and on the grounds. But don’t worry, there’s plenty of grub, drink, and movies to keep you occupied!” He scratched his stubble almost apologetically.

I looked over his shoulder at Jonah, who winked at me, as if to say not to worry about it.

“Thanks, but I’ll decide what’s best for me from now on. Gabriel is thousands of miles away across the Atlantic, having a ball with Hanora, I’m sure. Do you really think I’m going to let him have all the fun?” I tilted my head, attempting to be assertive.

Before he had the chance to argue I called for Brooke, who, in a flash, was snuggled in the dip of the corner sofa, one leg over the other and hands behind her head.

“Yo!”

“Film tonight, shopping tomorrow?” I asked.

One thing was for sure; I wasn’t about to be a prisoner.

Not anymore.

“There’s not really any shopping around here. The market should be open tomorrow in Mirepoix, that one you were telling me about, Ruadhan.”

“I was actually trying to educate you about the history of the town, not about the shopping facilities!” He huffed, irritated.

I plonked myself down a seat over from Brooke, maintaining a safe enough distance.

“Sounds good, what time do we leave?” I asked, directing myself at Brooke only.

“No, Cessie,” Ruadhan said firmly.

“I know you’re looking out for me, but I am my own person, and I’ll decide what I do and where I go from now on.”

Grinding his teeth together, he threw his arms up in the air and said, “If you insist on going, we all go.”

“You can visit that Saint Maurice Cathedral you were harping on about. See, I do listen,” Brooke said victoriously. Leaning in to me, she added, “I listen, but I really don’t care.”

I couldn’t help but giggle; she was quite a character when she wasn’t trying to kill me.

“Jonah, stick a movie on, and bring Cessie some popcorn,” Brooke said, flapping her hands at him lazily. “Oh, and some of that wine in the fridge for us…”

It never failed to amaze me that he gave in to her every whim with no argument. The most he managed was a sarcastic grunt and I was sure that was for my benefit. Why Jonah, of all of them, took orders from Brooke was beyond me.

Very kindly, Ruadhan brought over a knitted blanket. The light scent of countryside wafted over me, reminding me that I was far from the city. He excused himself to the study. More reading, I assumed.

Popcorn and wine now in our hands, Jonah pressed play on the remote. I couldn’t help but turn to look at him, sitting still on the opposite end of the sofa, as the opening title sequence to
The Highlander
began to play.

Winking at me in reply, he tilted his head a little, attempting to read my thoughts. Luckily for me, only Gabriel possessed that particular gift. I shook it off. I didn’t belong to a race of immortals trying to kill another race of immortals, though I got the underlying statement he was attempting to make. He knew there was far more to me than what met the eye; he didn’t believe I was an ordinary human girl. He wasn’t wrong and I could only assume this was his way of reminding me that he wasn’t buying it.

Trying to avoid being noticed, I slyly shifted under the blanket to check my phone. No messages. Remembering what Gabriel had said, I opened up the last trail and deleted it.

I managed to make it halfway through the film before nodding off again. I blamed the wine and the fresh air.

NINETEEN

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
as the sun rose from the east over the mountains that surrounded the barn, I was startled to find myself slumped against Brooke. She had her arm over my shoulders; she had stayed with me all night.

“Ah, good, you’re awake. Now I can get up!”

My eyes swept the room. “Where are Ruadhan and Jonah?” I asked, tying my hair back with the elastic around my wrist.

“Ruadhan’s still reading and Jonah popped out to get you eggs for breakfast. The nearest neighbor is a few miles away, but he’s pretty fast and they have chickens.”

“Thanks for, erm, not waking me. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” I apologized, still wary of the redheaded Vampire.

“Listen, Cessie. I’m sorry I lost my cool with you the other night. I, well, I just overreacted. But I understand now that you’re not interested in him like that. It might’ve taken me some time, but I know where your affections lie.” Her expression was triumphant, like a naughty girl with a secret.

I straightened myself underneath the blanket. “You do?”

“You like Gabriel, I get it. You’re barking up the wrong tree with him, though. Unattainable is not an exaggeration! But I get that you can’t help who you fall for. Look at me. I can never have who I want, but you learn to live with it. And the way you’re heading you might not be living much longer so at least you don’t have that worry!” She chuckled.

I didn’t find her funny.

“So you want to try this friend thing?” I continued. “It’s been a while since I had a shopping partner.” I strained to make it sound more appealing than being my friend actually was. Brooke was by no stretch my first choice either, but she was all I had, and it was better than nothing. Well, maybe it was better than nothing. I wasn’t quite sure.

She must have felt the same way as she replied, with a lack of enthusiasm, “Well, we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere together so we might as well make the best of it. Plus it couldn’t be worse than listening to Ruadhan waffle about the Cathars.”

“The who?”

“Don’t ask.” Standing up and taking out her massive sunglasses, she placed them over the ridge of her perfectly upturned nose.

Jonah appeared moments later, though he was so fast I didn’t see him come through the sliding doors at the side of the kitchen. “Boiled, fried, or scrambled?” he asked, juggling three eggs in his hands.

“Soft boiled with soldiers?” I answered.

He peered at Brooke, who merely shrugged her shoulders in reply before dashing out of the kitchen, I assumed to change.

“It must just be an English thing,” I said. “You boil, I’ll do the bread.”

I made my way over to the work surface and fumbled about creating some neat slices. As I began buttering I couldn’t help glancing over. Jonah was wearing his usual dark jeans and white polo shirt combination. Today, however, he’d added a layer in the form of a fitted sweatshirt, the bright orange wearing him. It clung to his washboard stomach and broad shoulders. I tried to cast my wandering eyes back to the butter before he saw, but Jonah never missed a trick.

“You seem to like color. I thought I’d take the opportunity to be bold.”

“Suits you,” I lied.

Sitting at the large table, he watched me dunk my bread into the yolk with some interest. “I don’t get why you call the bread ‘soldiers.’”

I grinned. “’Cause if you cut them and line them up, they resemble a formation of soldiers.”

As I moved the bread into an ordered formation on my plate, my bottom lip began to quiver and I was brought back down to the inescapability of my situation. “How many of us will see past the final stand in this battle?” I wondered aloud.

I thought back to Michael. I felt responsible for his demise. I could only hope the others wouldn’t come to such an end because of me.

I threw down the last piece of bread, my appetite suddenly disappearing. I scraped my chair against the floor; it made a nails-against-chalkboard squeal. I continued my way to the basement to wash and change.

*   *   *

M
IREPOIX WAS A THIRTY-MINUTE DRIVE,
but of course, we did it in fifteen minutes. The sun was strong, with a clear blue sky as its peaceful backdrop as the clock struck ten. But it was cold, very cold.

I had showered and for once taken the time to blow dry my hair so that I wouldn’t catch a cold. Brooke had insisted on French-braiding the top half of my hair and folding it neatly with gold bobby pins, allowing the length to dangle down to my waist, upturned where the loose curls hung. She had also taken it upon herself to dress me for shopping. I had tried to remind her that we were not in Paris, but she seemed to enjoy playing dress-up with me, like I was the Barbie doll she never had; though I suspected she had probably possessed the largest collection of all her friends as a child.

She’d put me in a lace blouse with cap sleeves, tucked into a high-waisted, turquoise pencil skirt, finished off with a tan leather belt, which she wrapped around the top of my skirt. I had refused the Alexander McQueen heels and she just about let me off with pointy tan flats from Topshop instead. I did my best to hide my scar while I had changed. Finally, a tote bag made of tweed was flung at me—essential, apparently, for the markets. It was only due to my insistence that she let me wear a light jacket over the top. She may have thought the outfit was compromised by a coat, but the weather strongly disagreed.

We pulled up to a small parking lot and I stepped out, ready to absorb my new surroundings. “It’s quite a bit windier here,” I observed as my hair blew in what felt like all directions.

“Ah, yes, it’s always a few degrees chillier here, I’m not sure why,” Ruadhan answered as he clicked the automatic lock to the sedan.

“It’s down there, I can see people!” Brooke began excitedly, tipping her giant sunglasses and pacing ahead. Ruadhan caught her up, redirecting her down a narrow cobbled street.

Jonah met me at my side, extending his arm out for me to walk with him. Smirking, he said, “Brooke dressed you, I see?”

“Hey, you’re the one who resembles a pumpkin right now!” I giggled, slapping him gently on his chest. “Crikey!” I yelped, shaking my hand out; his chest was rock hard.

He winked and said, “Careful, I’m pretty ripe!”

“Hmm, you don’t say.” Removing my arm from his, I cracked my knuckles back and forth. “Anyway, I have it on good authority that this is acceptable wear for shopping in a quaint market. Such is the world according to Brooke.”

“You look very … refined,” he replied softly, the hazel in his eyes softening as his black pupils widened.

Pacing a few feet or so behind Brooke and Ruadhan, I took the time to appreciate the sweet terraced town houses with their brightly colored shutters. In fact, I was slightly too engrossed—

“Watch out!” Jonah reached for my waist and hoisted me from off the ground, into his protective arms, saving me from being knocked over by a speeding bicyclist. Caught off guard, and surprised by the sudden closeness, I took a second to catch my breath before I peered up to meet his eyes.

“Careful, Cinderella,” he murmured.

“Cinderella?” I repeated in a whisper.

“Well, given this pumpkin just turned into your carriage—”

I shook my head in disdain and said, “If you’re going to promote yourself, you should aim a little higher than a carriage.” I pointed to the ground, signaling for him to place me back down.

Obediently Jonah did as I asked, but he pulled me in next to him tightly, cradling my hip with his hand. I didn’t want to get run over so I didn’t protest; it felt nice and secure.

“Nothing wrong with the carriage. The carriage gets Cinderella safely to her destination.” Jonah flashed me a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, it delivers her to Prince Charming,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Oh. I hadn’t considered that bit.…” Jonah trailed off. “Okay, I’ll go back to being the pumpkin, you go back to being Sleeping Beauty. We’ll work something out.”

For all intents and purposes, the street had only a few residents strolling up and down. They had scarves tied around their aging hair, wicker baskets in hand full of baguettes, cheese, and something else that smelled like old feet as it wafted past me in the draft. Coughing, I made a suitably unimpressed face and Jonah laughed at me.

At the top of the street, a main road presented itself and, on the opposite side, a bustling square with market stalls formed a rectangle in front of a medieval section of joined properties. Ruadhan and Brooke met us at the roadside.

“The market is bordered by thirteenth- and fifteenth-century houses. Look, you can see the top levels are properties that local folk and tourists with vacation apartments own. Underneath there are shops and cafés.” Pointing up and waggling his finger around, Ruadhan was like a proper tour guide.

“Ahhh, they are quite something,” I answered, impressed by the medieval houses that seemed to be floating in the air, seemingly supported only by wood and concrete arches below. Despite their age, it was amusing to see that it hadn’t stopped the residents from painting their shutters in bright blues and reds—not quite in keeping with the brown wooden crosses and elongated beams on the face of the properties, presumably designed by some celebrated architect of the era.

“Boring…” Brooke whined impatiently.

“Okay, okay. We’ll all walk around the market together.… Cessie.” Ruadhan handed me some bills and I shook my head in protest; I didn’t want his money.