Page 123
Story: Blood and Buttercups
It’s massive, and it hasturrets.
“Is that a castle?” Olivia whispers, gripping the back of Max’s seat and peering out the front window as we drive down the mile-long cobblestone drive.
The mansion sits in a wildflower meadow that’s surrounded by blue spruces and aspens. The building is shaped like an L, with a courtyard at its center. Unlike Ethan’s property, there are no mermaids. There is, however, a formal garden at the heart of the courtyard with a huge urn centerpiece. Bright white geraniums are the focal point, with lavender petunias and purple ornamental sweet potato vines flowing over the edges and cascading into the complicated center of the boxwood knot.
“He has rose trees,” I murmur, my eyes moving through the landscape.
“Breathe,” Olivia instructs, poking me in the ribs.
“Oof.” I swat her away. “It’s gorgeous.”
“You’re still talking about the flowers, aren’t you?”
“What else would I be talking about?”
“Oh, I don’t know. MaybeCassian Palace.”
“It does have a name,” Carlos says from the passenger seat. “But I don’t remember what it is.”
This place is unreal. It looks like it belongs in medieval France, not in the middle of Colorado. Though, to be fair, if it was going to be anywhere, it would be here in Aspen.
Max follows Carlos’s directions and parks in front of the house.
A woman walks down the sweeping entry steps as we filter out of the ambulance. She’s wearing a navy sleeveless blouse, a pair of white shorts, and white tennis shoes. I’m not sure if she’s about to play pickleball or if she’s one of Cassian’s employees.
She appears to be in her early forties, with lowlights in her blonde hair, and she walks with the air of someone who seems very efficient.
“Hi, Carlos,” she says affectionately. “Did everything go all right?”
“So far so good,” he says.
I hope Noah and Cassian are okay. I texted Cassian fifteen minutes ago, but I haven’t heard back. It hasn’t even been quite an hour, though. I’m sure everything is fine.
But that doesn’t stop me from looking at my phone again.
“Piper, this is Melissa,” Carlos says.
The woman warmly shakes my hand. Her skin is hot like Olivia’s, so she must be a regular human. “Welcome to Chateau Chevalier.”
“You were close,” I say to Olivia.
She nods knowingly, smiling when it’s her turn to take Melissa’s hand.
Noise on the road beyond the drive catches our attention, and a minute later, a black, unmarked SUV comes into view and pauses outside the automatic gates.
They open, and it drives in.
Noah leaps out of the driver’s seat and immediately begins stripping his firefighter gear. Cassian emerges from the driver’s side and then does the same.
Olivia and I shamelessly gawk.
“What is it about uniforms?” she whispers, holding back a giggle.
“It’s not just the uniforms.” My eyes run over Noah. “No offense to Hilo, but he wouldn’t put on quite the same show.”
She nods sagely.
As soon as Noah is free of the heavy gear, he jogs over to me, grabbing me by the arms like he’s going to kiss me.
“Is that a castle?” Olivia whispers, gripping the back of Max’s seat and peering out the front window as we drive down the mile-long cobblestone drive.
The mansion sits in a wildflower meadow that’s surrounded by blue spruces and aspens. The building is shaped like an L, with a courtyard at its center. Unlike Ethan’s property, there are no mermaids. There is, however, a formal garden at the heart of the courtyard with a huge urn centerpiece. Bright white geraniums are the focal point, with lavender petunias and purple ornamental sweet potato vines flowing over the edges and cascading into the complicated center of the boxwood knot.
“He has rose trees,” I murmur, my eyes moving through the landscape.
“Breathe,” Olivia instructs, poking me in the ribs.
“Oof.” I swat her away. “It’s gorgeous.”
“You’re still talking about the flowers, aren’t you?”
“What else would I be talking about?”
“Oh, I don’t know. MaybeCassian Palace.”
“It does have a name,” Carlos says from the passenger seat. “But I don’t remember what it is.”
This place is unreal. It looks like it belongs in medieval France, not in the middle of Colorado. Though, to be fair, if it was going to be anywhere, it would be here in Aspen.
Max follows Carlos’s directions and parks in front of the house.
A woman walks down the sweeping entry steps as we filter out of the ambulance. She’s wearing a navy sleeveless blouse, a pair of white shorts, and white tennis shoes. I’m not sure if she’s about to play pickleball or if she’s one of Cassian’s employees.
She appears to be in her early forties, with lowlights in her blonde hair, and she walks with the air of someone who seems very efficient.
“Hi, Carlos,” she says affectionately. “Did everything go all right?”
“So far so good,” he says.
I hope Noah and Cassian are okay. I texted Cassian fifteen minutes ago, but I haven’t heard back. It hasn’t even been quite an hour, though. I’m sure everything is fine.
But that doesn’t stop me from looking at my phone again.
“Piper, this is Melissa,” Carlos says.
The woman warmly shakes my hand. Her skin is hot like Olivia’s, so she must be a regular human. “Welcome to Chateau Chevalier.”
“You were close,” I say to Olivia.
She nods knowingly, smiling when it’s her turn to take Melissa’s hand.
Noise on the road beyond the drive catches our attention, and a minute later, a black, unmarked SUV comes into view and pauses outside the automatic gates.
They open, and it drives in.
Noah leaps out of the driver’s seat and immediately begins stripping his firefighter gear. Cassian emerges from the driver’s side and then does the same.
Olivia and I shamelessly gawk.
“What is it about uniforms?” she whispers, holding back a giggle.
“It’s not just the uniforms.” My eyes run over Noah. “No offense to Hilo, but he wouldn’t put on quite the same show.”
She nods sagely.
As soon as Noah is free of the heavy gear, he jogs over to me, grabbing me by the arms like he’s going to kiss me.
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