Page 9

Narrowing her eyes, she held her voice firm. “Yet I am certain my attempts could be very vexing.”

For an eternity, they stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills. Rafael’s scowl deepened before he released her. “What is it exactly that you want?”

“I would like my clothes to start with. This gown was not meant for sleeping in. And I should like to bring my servants, especially my cook—”

“No servants.”

“But—”

“Do you want to endanger any more people?”

“The Duke and Duchess of Burnrath had human servants,” she argued, then faltered. “At least, I’m fairly certain they were human. How else could the cook get supplies from the market during the day?”

“The duke and duchess did not eat food.” His brows drew together. “At least not after Her Grace was Changed.”

“Exactly. She needed to eat, and so do I.” She put her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “And I need my clothes.”

Rafael sighed. “Fine. We’ll fetch your cook and wardrobe tonight as long as you promise never to reveal the truth behind you being here. Your safety, as well as hers, depends on it.”

“What of my other servants?” she ventured, gaining courage at his indulgence thus far. “This house is in vital need of upkeep.”

He sighed again and ran a hand through that magnificent hair. “I’ll hire some of my own people to take care of that. You must also inform your friends and family that you are to be my guest here. We don’t want to put any more humans in danger.”

“Agreed.” She managed a prim curtsy and took a deep breath. “There is one more thing.” The thing that was most important to her.

A low growl tore from his throat. “Damn it, señora. You are trying my patience.”

“I-I w-would like my books and laboratory equipment,” she pressed on. “Without my studies and my work to occupy my time, I fear I shall go mad and cause quite the uproar during my stay.”

He slammed his fist on the table next to her, making her teacup clatter in its saucer. “You presume to threaten me?”

“It is not a threat at all.” She forced an airy tone, refusing to balk. “It is merely the inevitable result of being confined with no intellectual stimulation. And if you are to kill me, I would appreciate the chance to make one last discovery before I die.” Lowering her head, she peered through her lashes, attempting to play the coquette. “Perhaps I could learn how to repair your arm.”

A brittle, ugly laugh escaped him. “That would be impossible. The limb has been this way for fifteen years.”

“Did you have a doctor look at it?” she challenged.

“Of course not,” he growled. “It is forbidden for mortals to know of my kind, which is why you are here in the first place.”

Cassandra ignored the taunt. “Then how can you be certain your injury cannot be treated? It has not even been properly diagnosed.”

Rafael’s exotic features contorted into a mask of pain and rage. It took every ounce of her will not to cringe.

“Enough!” he growled. “You may move your laboratory here. But you will not experiment on me. Also, no corpses. My sense of smell is heightened and I cannot abide the odor.”

Biting back a protest, she nodded. It was the best she could expect for now.

“And you will give me your solemn oath that you will not tell any mortals my secret or attempt to escape.” His adamant tone forbade argument. “It would mean not only your death, but also the demise of any whom you confide in.”

Cassandra extended her hand, hiding a smile. “I promise.” Anthony’s theory seemed to be correct. If Villar wanted to kill her, he wouldn’t keep threatening to do so, he would merely do the deed.

Rafael blinked in surprise before taking her hand in his warm, firm grip. She shivered at the contact.

“Very well, it appears we have a bargain.” He shook her hand briskly. “I will summon the carriage and we will be on our way.”

She bit back a cheer at her victory. Regaining access to her medical texts and equipment would be the first step in her quest to study the vampire and prove herself to be an invaluable asset to him.

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