Page 41 of The Vampire Court

Putting all further arguments behind me, I follow him with my head down and mouth clamped shut. I don’t trust him, but I have questions, and he has the answers.

We reach his room only a few minutes later. Cassius gestures for me to enter. He reaches out to take my hand when I hesitate. I pull away and walk inside.

The door clicks shut, echoing with a finality in my ears.

“What are you up to?” I demand, whirling on him, pointing an accusing finger. He frowns. “Why did you defend me in there?”

“Would you rather I let them kill you?” He takes a step forward then another until he bumps into my finger.

“You know what I mean. What are you up to?”

Cassius doesn’t look the least bit intimidated. Not that I expected him to be. He’s silent for a long time.

“When was the last time you ate?” he finally asks. “You’ve lost weight.”

“Stop avoiding my questions.”

“Bathe, and when you’ve cleaned up, you can eat and ask me as many questions as you want.”

The promise of food and a warm bath is enough to take the fight out of me.

In a blur, Cassius is across the room, taking a folded item from a drawer. He speeds back to my side and places it in my arms. He gestures toward a door. “It’s right through there.”

I take the proffered clothing and shuffle into the bathing room. My movements are mechanical as I strip down and wait for the tub to fill. The last thing I remove is the dagger and the leather strapping on my forearm.

When there’s a few inches of water, I turn the faucet off and step in. The second I sink down, exhaustion wraps itself tight around my bones. Quickly, I wash away the sweat and filth of the dungeon.

No matter how hard I try, my thoughts go to Alaric. I wonder where he is now and if he’s all right. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to suppress the gamut of emotions welling up.

He’s a vampire and the crown prince—a fact I still have a hard time believing. He can handle himself, but worry still twists at my gut.

I step out of the bath and dry off. Then, I slip the simple cream-colored shift over my head, grab the dagger, and step out.

Cassius leans against one of the bed posters, eyes drawn to the weapon in my hand.

“You were careless, Clara. You never should have mentioned the weapon. The Voice is suspicious of you—” He stops talking abruptly. “Do you still have the dagger?”

I nod. The Voice must be the ghostly pale vampire who spoke for the others.

“If you plan on keeping it in your possession, you would do well to never mention it to anyone besides Alaric and myself.” He straightens and motions to the single plate of food on the table. “Eat then sleep.”

I scoff, securing the dagger to my forearm. I don’t plan on letting it out of my grasp, not even while sleeping. I cross to the bed, grab a pillow and blanket, and then fling them on the ground below the window.

“Use the bed, Clara.”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed.” To emphasize my point, I sit on the piled-up blankets and straighten them out around me.

Cassius brings the plate to me and sits with his back against the wall.

Aware that I’m being difficult, I shove a piece of bread in my mouth and take a bite of cheese. My appetite returns with a vengeance, jaw aching with the delicious flavors, and I can’t seem to eat fast enough.

Twice, Cassius tells me to slow down before I finish. Setting the plate to the side, I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t like feeling vulnerable, and I don’t like the unknown.

“Why did you defend me?”

“I have my reasons,” he says. “but maybe I’m not as terrible as you want to believe I am.”

I scoff, not believing a word. “Do you want to know what I think?”