Dmitri yelled and shot to his feet, glass and chair tumbling to the floor. He backed away. Aubrey felt her mind clear (that tunneling brightness), felt a confidence she hadn’t felt since all the way back to Lady Bradford’s ball.
I could bite him. I could harm him.
If he let her close enough. Currently he stood across the room, eyes slitted. “Kev didn’t discover that.”
“Don’t tell him,” Aubrey said quickly, and all the power was back in Dmitri’s hands.
For Kev would split her open, Kev would wiggle his fingers in her guts, searching for answers, ways to please Lord Simon.
She utterly hated Kev.
“Tell you what, puss. I’ll take you to some wholesome Academy magicians. How does that sound?”
“Yes.” She was too eager. But the Academy was her way home, better even than the police.
“Good. Tomorrow morning. Early.”
She retreated before he demanded more. Not that he would now. She didn’t think he would ever get too close now.
Only—what if closeness was Dmitri’s price for helping her? Safety, home, would be worth whatever Dmitri wanted.
This is how desperate I am. How pathetic.
She had to muster her resources. She’d watched Mother manipulate people often enough—lurking in the dressmaker’s to wrangle a ride home in Lady Clyndale’s carriage; bribing Lady Pavronay to seat her next to a baron at dinner. Mother wanted their family to meet the best people, a friend of a friend of a friend who could recommend Richard for a government post; help Andrew to a good school; supplement Aubrey’s dowry.
Mother never had to save herself from being tortured.
Which didn’t mean it couldn’t be done.
* * *
Aubrey didn’t sleep that night, only drowsed briefly, her head against the wall. She found a wooden beam under the bed and kept it beside her on the bed, hand curled around one end. She licked the tips of her fangs with her tongue. They retreated into her gums, sprang back when she tensed, sensing movement in the parlor. She bit her tongue and blood filled her mouth.
I don’t want these. I never asked for them.
But at least they were a way to keep her kidnappers at bay. Dmitri, she understood. He wanted money. He needed someone to know about Aubrey so he could collect a payment; he saw no benefit in keeping her locked up.
One of Mother’s contacts will pay Dmitri. I’ll be home soon.
She imagined Mother, tidy and trim, jewels sparkling at her wrists and neck. Mother would cry when Aubrey returned. Richard would nod sternly. Andrew would hug her—he was more demonstrative than the rest of them. Life would go back to its usual patterns. This ordeal would end, finish, and fade away.
* * *
Towards dawn, the parlor’s papered windows let in vague, unhealthy light; Aubrey left the alcove and waited for Dmitri beside the round table. She didn’t sit down.
“Eager kitty,” he said when he entered from the outside hallway.
He didn’t approach her; instead, eyes on Aubrey’s face, he ostentatiously slid a knife through the belt at his waist. He beckoned for her to precede him out of the parlor down the dark corridor to the front door. He reached over her shoulder to unfastened the bolts, saying, “Be nice, puss.”
