Page 26

Warm water has never felt so good.

I was hesitant to shower and open myself up to threats, but I convinced myself that I’d have time to quickly wash. If someone is spineless enough to attack me while I’m naked, I’ll kill them without a second thought. I’ll stand over their lifeless body without a lick of remorse.

It’s been two days since my last shower, and it takes longer than expected to scrub off the clay-like mixture of dirt and blood that coats my skin. I hiss when the water rushes over hidden cuts that I hadn’t noticed. The heat enveloping my aching muscles soothes them for only a moment.

I savour the fleeting feeling of being clean, convincing myself that I even have time to wash my hair and scrub my face. I justify it with the knowledge that I may go another two days without the opportunity. Maybe more.

The bathroom is twice the size of our ensuite at home, with a shower fit for wings and a freestanding bathtub with golden feet. The shower is sheltered by its own wall, separating it from the rest of the bathroom.

Jeremy would love to stay in a place like this. He’s always been a sucker for Victorian decor. Such an old soul.

The thought brings a smile to my face, and an ache to my chest.

He could be here. Somewhere.

I grab the towel off the hook and dry myself quickly, deciding that I’ve spent enough time undressed and vulnerable in this creepy estate. I fumble along the ground for my discarded clothes, but find my hands reaching into empty space. I step out of the shower and spin around the bathroom, wondering if perhaps I threw them elsewhere. Nothing.

I rush back into the bedroom and check every cupboard, every drawer, every single inch of this room. Nothing.

An icy chill crawls its way up my spine, hairs raising along with it.

Someone was in here.

Someone took my clothes, my weapons.

I sit on the bed with a towel wrapped around me and take deep breaths. I shouldn’t have been so foolish. I should have known that being attacked in the shower wasn’t the only danger. In a place like this, a violation of any kind is possible.

I stomp towards the door, reaching for the handle before remembering my current attire. My hand hovers for a moment before dropping. I lean against the wood, taking a few more deep breaths while I try to formulate a plan.

Whispers find their way through the door, perking me up. I press my ear closer to hear them more clearly.

“I’ve taken the others to the west wing. They will never cross paths.”

The voice is quiet, muffled by the sound of two sets of footsteps as they walk past my door.

Three loud knocks cause me to nearly jump out of my towel. I press my ear back to the door and hear the footsteps retreat down the hall.

The knock sounds again.

The archangel.

I reach for the handle before realising that my other hand is clutching a towel tightly to my body. I’m still damp, my hair dripping wet.

I hesitate, fighting an internal battle. Perhaps he can find my clothes. Is the chance worth the look of mischief on his face when he sees me in nothing but a towel?

“Miss?”

A female voice snaps my attention back to the door. “Vince sent me to tend to you. I have clothes.”

I pull it open and rush the woman inside, closing it quickly behind her before anyone can see.

Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun, lines of grey peeking through despite careful placement that aims to keep them hidden. Her green eyes are wide with shock as she looks me over once, twice. She wears a black cotton top with a high neckline, accompanied by straight black pants and a golden belt. What is with this place and gold?

She clears her throat. “My name is Mirabelle. I will be helping you dress for dinner.”

Her words are shaky, and she only meets my eyes once before looking down at her hands.

I take a single step towards her, my eyes never leaving her face. “Are you the one who broke into my room while I showered?”

My tone has a subtle warning to it, enough to make her eyes snap up to mine and her lips part.

She shakes her head profusely. “No. I would never. Though I do know who did, and I do know where your things have been taken.”

I study her for a moment, searching for a lie before backing down and softening my features. “And can you tell me where that is?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s okay.”

A feline grin spreads across my face, my eyes flaring with determination. “I’ll find them.”