Bound to Blackwood (22 page)

Larissa nodded. “It operates on a highly sophisticated time-lock. The door had not yet been sealed when we heard His Majesty’s order.”

Lena clamped her mouth shut for fear of standing there like a dumbstruck fool. She couldn’t look at Thorn. The door hadn’t been sealed, but they had still heard the order through a solid-osmium door. He was more powerful than she had ever imagined.

“Lena is the Steward of the Watch, Larissa. Since I am otherwise unaccompanied here, she will share with me.” Thorn interjected.

She’ll what?

“Of course, My Lord. As you wish.”

Oh fuck. This could not be happening.

The butler arrived with his fully-charged glasses of red wine. Thorn was served first, of course, but Lena was second and she snatched her glass off the tray before the butler had the time to offer it to her. The surprisingly good Rioja barely touched the sides as she downed the lot and took another glass from the tray. The wine served to dull her nerves momentarily.

She looked around the concrete-grey room. Crane was giving a toast to Thorn’s health and his mother and brother, Roarke, joined him with great enthusiasm.

Oh Lord
. She was stuck here. With these people. Why couldn’t she just be out killing something?
 

She needed some breathing space. Crane wasn't going anywhere; they apparently had all bloody night to question him again. Deciding that standing around at a nice little soiree wasn’t her style she sidled up to Roarke. “Do you think you could show me the rest of the facility, Roarke?”

Roarke’s eyes widened before he replied. “Of course, My Lady. Is there anything in particular you would like to see?”

“All of it.”

“Of course, My Lady. Right this way.” Roarke beamed, extending his arm towards the door.

“And Roarke?”

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Call me Lena. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a lady.”

“Y-yes, My… I mean, of course, Lena.”

Lena couldn’t help but smile as Roarke looked at the floor, embarrassment seeping from him. “You’ll get used to it. C’mon, give me the tour.”

Roarke smiled again and motioned for her to follow him from the room.

Lena trailed behind as he led her to the central corridor. The osmium door loomed at one end and there were four more lining each side of the colourless hall, with another at the end, directly ahead. The door next to the lounge opened into a large open plan kitchen diner where liveried staff were busy concocting a spread they hoped would be fit for a King. Everything was a depressing shade of storm-cloud-grey.

The bedrooms were equally utilitarian, though thankfully the beds did actually have mattresses on them. The guest-room, which she would be sharing with Thorn, was home to a double bed and
praise the Holy Mother of Fae
, a sofa. An ugly, slate-grey sofa, but it was perfectly Lena-sized.
 

The door at the end of corridor led to an impressive communications' suite. Well, it would have been impressive if it was actually online. The servers were silent, the screens black. Some of the keyboards still had their protective plastic sheaths on them. Lena felt here brow knit; there went her plan to contact HQ.

Roarke saw her frown. “This suite is new. We haven’t had the time to test all the equipment yet. I’m afraid we’re still a little way off being operational.”

Lena nodded her reply.

Back out in the hallway, the monotonous grey compounded by bright, fluorescent, overhead lighting was beginning to grate. “You guys didn’t think it was worth decorating around here then?”

“Why would we? We hardly ever use it!” Roarke replied.

Of course they didn’t.
Lena mentally smacked herself over the head. Yet again, she’d been so caught up in Thorn Blackwood’s magnificence that she’d failed to see what was staring her in the face.
 

“Why today then?” she asked as she leaned against the wall.

“Mother thought it best.”

“Why?”

“Your visit made her and Crane nervous. They didn’t say why.”

“And you didn’t think to ask?”

“Why would I? It’s not like they’d tell me anyway. I’m not privy to their secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“I don’t know. Not really anyway.”

“Roarke?”

Roarke sighed. “It's only really what I’ve pieced together. Things were never really the same after my father died.”

“Understandably.”

Roarke shook his head. “What we told you was true. They went to the inn, that woman ran out and fled. My father did die at the hands of…”

“The Fallen.” Lena finished for him. They were protected by osmium and still Roarke couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

“Yes.”

“But?”

“But something else happened that night.”

“Like?”

“I can’t be sure. I do know it has something to do with that woman.”

Well, that was interesting.
She needed to talk to Thorn and was just about to head back to have a quiet word in his shell-like when Larissa swept out into the corridor. Thorn and the rest of House Bowman were in tow.
 

“Ah! There you are. Dinner is served.” Larissa smiled, but again, it didn’t reach her eyes. And Lena caught the thinly veiled scowl Larissa shot at Roarke.

The staff had done what they could with the drab kitchen-come-diner. Someone had found some linen for the table and the silver cutlery shone under the harsh light. Lena took in the spread and thanked Faerie the food wasn’t grey as well. She expected something simple given the last minute decision to use the facility, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. The House Bowman table rivalled anything she had seen at the Order.

Steamed vegetables of every colour and variety imaginable were piled into shiny chafing dishes whilst spatchcocked chicken and roasted pork and beef tempted diners from their silver platters. Wine was served in beautiful silver and crystal decanters and Lena was pretty sure the gems on the wine glass stems weren't just for show.

Lena chose a chair near the end of the table, so she could see all the guests, but also keep an eye on the only exit. They might be guarded by an osmium door, but this wasn't home and she was taking no chances.

As she placed her hands on the back of the chair with the intention of pulling it out, she realised everyone else was still standing.
Ah, that's right. They were in company now.
Dropping her hands, she waited, not entirely sure what to do with herself.
 

Larissa consulted with one of the servants before the woman swept to the head of the table. Both her sons leapt to action, each vying for the honour of helping their mother into her seat. Lena tried really hard not to roll her eyes. Honestly, Larissa was a formidable woman. The idea that she might need help to pull out her own chair was frankly ridiculous.

Which was why Lena was dumbfounded when Thorn did the same for her. He pulled Lena's chair out with grace and ease as he motioned for her to sit. Determined not to impersonate a goldfish again, Lena did as instructed and watched mesmerised as Thorn made sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat beside her. Once the two ladies in the room and the King, of course, were seated, Roarke, Bay and Crane took their places.

"My Lord," Larissa shrieked, leaping to her feet. As she stood, so did all the men in the room. "Will you not do us the honour of taking the head of the table?"

Thorn bowed his head slightly. "Indeed it is an honour you should offer it to me,
Maluth
. However, I cannot accept."

"Oh but, you must!" Larissa replied.

"My Steward has already ascertained where I should sit when she chose her own seat; she always sits on my right. And I mean no offence when I suggest that she took that seat so that I would not have my back to an unguarded door."

Lena had no idea what this
"she always sits on my right"
stuff was all about, but Thorn was correct. There was no way she'd let him sit in such a vulnerable position. Lena watched Larissa carefully, waiting to see how she reacted to the implication that the King was not safe in her house.
 

To her credit, Larissa simply inclined her head as she replied, "As you wish, My Lord."

"There is of course another reason," Thorn said.

"My Lord?" Larissa replied.

"There is only one man who should sit in that seat, and I would never dream of taking his place."

Lena gulped as she watched the abject sorrow skirt across Larissa's face and both her sons looked at their feet. "You honour his memory well, My Lord," Larissa whispered as she sank to her seat.

Lena was fairly certain that safety was Thorn's primary reason for not taking the seat he was offered, but his second reason held merit and Lena felt ashamed that the thought hadn't even occurred to her. She risked a glance at Thorn as he retook his seat beside her. The solemnity in his eyes made her heart ache.
Dammit
. She felt like apologising,
again
.
 

"Lena?"

"Huh?"

Thorn was staring at her, eyebrow lifted as if waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"I asked you if you'd like some chicken."

"Oh. Right. Um. Yes please." She smiled weakly.
Real smooth, Lena.
 

Thorn placed a small piece of chicken on her plate and she was grateful he hadn't loaded the thing up. Her no-stuffing-your-face-rule still held strong even when she wasn't with her brethren. Thorn offered her vegetables next, followed by roast potatoes. Again he went with small portions.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"You're more than welcome, Steward," Thorn replied.

Lena stared at her plate for a second, then remembering the chair incident, checked to see what everyone else was doing. Larissa also had a plate of food in front of her, though she hadn't picked up her knife or fork yet. Lena frowned, but decided to take the other woman's lead and waited. It was then she realised that Thorn hadn't even started charging his own plate, nor had any of the other men. Lena was beyond confused.

"Our women always have first choice," Thorn whispered, his mouth just millimetres from her ear.

Lena just nodded as her insides exploded. She struggled to contain the inferno, and Thorn inhaled deeply. Lena watched his golden eyes widen before he cleared his throat and looked away.
What was all that about?
 

Thorn had to close his eyes to steady himself. He didn't know if Lena knew what she was doing to him, but that scent was there again. As he'd leant into her, the scent of exotic spiced filled his senses. The effect was immediate.

His sex swelled against his fly, and it took all his strength to will his fangs to stay where they were. Heat rolled through him making him glad he was already sitting down. His heart pounded and his head swam as a single thought screamed at him:
"Mine!"
 

Where in the name of Faerie had that come from?

As his brow knitted, he felt eyes on him and looked at the head of the table. Larissa was glancing between him and Lena, her eyes narrowed. The woman's eyes softened however as she met his gaze and a knowing smile lifted her whole face.

It was the first time since he'd met her that he'd seen her smile properly. This one went all the way to her sharp, grey eyes and she was all the prettier for it. She shook the expression away quickly as she took a delicate sip from her wine glass. What did she know that he didn't?

Thorn risked a look at Lena and found she wouldn't meet his eyes. She was pushing her chicken around her plate, her hands trembling ever-so-slightly.
Well, that was definitely odd.
 

"My Lord, how is your investigation going?" Roarke asked from the seat to his mother's left. Larissa shot her son a look that showed quite clearly she was not happy with this conversation.

"It is going well, thank you, Roarke. We uncovered interesting new intelligence after we left you, actually."

"Oh! How exciting!" Roarke beamed like a school boy.

"Are you able to share this intelligence?" Larissa asked, with just a little too much enthusiasm.

Thorn watched her carefully. She was a very guarded woman, but there was a hint of guilt in the air and Thorn would love to know the cause.

"I'm afraid not, Larissa. We still have some unanswered questions. All, I'm sure, will become clear soon enough."

"You didn't say what the investigation concerned, My Lord." Larissa pressed again.

"No. I didn't."

Larissa pursed her lips in a tight smile before raising her glass. "A toast!" She continued in the old language, "
May luck be your friend and may trouble be always a stranger to you
." The rest of the party followed her example, saluting Thorn and Lena with their bejewelled glasses.
 

Thorn returned the gesture. "Your wishes are most gratefully received,
Maluth
."