Page 25

“A few times a week.” Lie. “Your son has a healthy appetite.” I don’t know whether that’s true or not, but I hope for Morella’s sake, it is. “He wants this as badly as you do.”

“I doubt that, Miss Harbough. Clean yourself up and come downstairs. Dinner is almost ready and I’m sure your father is anxious to see you. I’ll have another test sent up to you in the morning, and every morning hereafter until you give me what I need.”

Jesus.

“Yes, Sir.”

I wait until he leaves, then sink down in a heap on my bathroom floor. If he’s this serious about it, there’s no way I make it out of this alive.

My days are numbered.



















Ten

Why is it that I keepending up next to Draven at these fucking dinners?

Even with the table expanded enough to fit twelve, I still find myself sandwiched between the Creed brothers. Ephraim and my father each take an end seat, Verna sits where she always does, and the rest of the seats are filled with people I haven’t seen or heard about since my days at St. Andrew’s.

I feel trapped.

Draven has made himself scarce these last few weeks. He’s hardly looked at me since our talk in the kitchen, and the few times he has, there’s been a heat behind his eyes I can’t quite put a finger on. It’s better than the ice that resides in the rest of his family’s stares, but it still makes me nervous.

And the dreams of him haven’t faded in the slightest, if anything, they’ve only gotten worse. The one I had last night had me moaning myself awake, leaving me in a cold sweat that reminded me of the times the Keepers edged me for hours.

“You seem tense,” he mutters under his breath, his attention seemingly on the feast around us.

The background music Madeline picked helps dull the sound of our conversation, so I don’t bother to whisper.

“Yeah, well. I have my reasons.”

“I bet you do. Smile, daddy is watching.”

He offers me one that’s full of mischief, one that I turn on Alexander.

It feels almost creepy with our current arrangement, but the last thing I need is for Ephraim to see me making eyes at the wrong son.

And Draven is absolutely the wrong son.