Wildfire

Chapter 22

22. Covet

The kitchen of Madalena's house consisted of a worn set of table and chairs, and an old-fashioned stove. I hovered inside the door, watching uncertainly as she moved around the room, retrieving various cooking utensils from their hiding places. There was something intrinsically graceful about her; it wasn't just the speed or the limber quality of her movements. It went deeper than that.

I tugged on the sleeves of my hoodie, pulling them over my cold hands. The room upstairs had been a little warm — probably because of the lamp — but downstairs, the house was much colder. Maybe not as cold as outside, but it was still hard to suppress a shiver as I glanced around, taking in the little kitchen.

"Sit." Madalena waved a spatula at the dining room table.

I slunk over to one of the chairs, the scrape of the legs grating on my nerves as I dragged it back from the table.

"You will eat omelettes, yes?" She glanced over her shoulder at me.

I nodded slowly. As much as I wanted to refuse, I was absolutely starving. I had no idea how long it had been since I last ate. I watched her cook in silence, using the time to gather myself. There were a million questions I wanted to ask her but when I tried to voice them, the words stuck in my throat. A part of me was afraid to discover the answers to them.

When she finally slid my plate toward me, I shot her a startled glance. The plate was laden with about eight omelettes, piled high on top of each other.

"Um..." Did she expect me to eat all of that?

"I am not used to human diets," Madalena said, her brow furrowed. Even though she was admitting to a lack of knowledge, I still felt like she was giving out to me. "It is difficult to judge."

"One's fine," I murmured, still a little stunned.

"One?" Madalena's eyed me critically. "You are nothing but skin and bone."

I shifted uncomfortably. "I exercise."

"Mmm." The sound was rich with disapproval. She slid gracefully onto the chair opposite me, her hands folded neatly on the table.

She acts like someone from a different century, I thought. Her mannerisms, the way she spoke — everything.

I took a bite of the omelette, not really noticing the flavour. I chewed for a few moments, thinking over the questions in my head, before I finally decided to go with, "Why did you kidnap me?"

"How did you come to be involved with my son?" she countered. She raised her clasped hands, propping her chin up as she stared at me, those golden brown eyes eerily cold. Even with someone as big as Viktor around, it wasn't difficult to see why Madalena might be calling the shots around here — there was something militant about her.

"I helped him with a class project," I said uneasily.

"And somehow he tripped and bit you, is that it?" Her brows rose haughtily.

I inhaled slowly, a frisson of fear darting down my spine. "Y-yep."

She leaned forward slightly, gold flashing in her eyes. "Perhaps you should tell me the truth this time."

There was an undercurrent of menace in her voice, despite the soft, lilting quality, and I could feel my insides start to quake in fear. I wanted to blurt out the truth, but something held me back. She'd kidnapped me. Or, at least, Viktor and Diesel had kidnapped me, and she was somewhat associated with them. Even if she was Diego's mother, it was looking less and less likely that she was on his side in this mess.