“Something?” “A baby.”
Victor revealed the first hint of surprise. “Hers?”
“No.” Tane made a sound of frustration. “But that’s all I’m certain of.”
Victor took his empty glass and returned to the sideboard. When he turned he held two glasses of whiskey. He crossed to offer one of the shots to Tane.
“Then what’s your interest in the child?”
Tane tossed the fine Irish spirits down his throat, savoring the burn.
“Laylah was willing to give her life to protect the babe. I want to know why.”
Victor studied him with a piercing gaze. “Tane, are you certain you aren’t just inventing reasons to keep Laylah with you rather than turning her over to the Commission?”
Tane paced toward the gardens drenched in a silvery fog, annoyed by the intrusion into his privacy.
Like every vampire he answered to Styx, the Anasso, but as a Charon he had no clan and no chief. Which meant he didn’t have to explain himself or his decisions to anyone.
Or perhaps he was annoyed by the possibility the clan chief was right on the money.
“I’m not damned well sure of anything beyond the fact the woman has crawled beneath my skin,” he muttered. “But I sense …”
“What?”
“I sense the babe is important.” He studied his companion with a stubborn expression. “And so is Laylah.”
Chapter 7
Laylah had never had a female friend. Not even when she’d been in the comforting care of her foster mother.
The need for secrecy had always overridden her aching desire for companionship.
Loneliness was the price for her freedom.
Now she found herself… what was a good word? Discombobulated, yeah that fit perfect, as Juliet hustled her to a vast guest bedroom that was decorated in shades of ivory and lavender, barely allowing Laylah to get a word in edgewise as she draped an amulet of disguise about her neck before urging her into the attached bathroom that was a woman’s wet dream.
A sunken marble tub the size of Rhode Island was smack dab in the center of the room and already filled with steaming hot water. A line of bottles that held bath oils, soaps, shampoos, and soothing crystals were set on the glass shelves. And lit candles filled the air with a soft vanilla scent.
Left alone, Laylah gave in to temptation and soaked away the dirt and tension of the past days, only leaving the water when she began to resemble a prune. Why not linger? For now the amulet would hide her presence from even the most persistent demon.
At last returning to the guest room she discovered clean jeans and a pretty yellow shirt, as well as lacy underwear and tennis shoes laid out on the canopy bed.
She shook her head as she pulled on the clothes and ran a brush through her spiky crimson hair. She didn’t know what she’d expected when Tane had brought her to the lair of London’s clan chief, but it certainly wasn’t to be treated like a welcomed guest.
There was a knock on the door. “Can I get you anything else, Laylah?” Juliet demanded.
With a smile, Laylah crossed to pull open the door, stepping hurriedly aside as the tiny woman bustled in with a silver tray that she carried directly to the cherry wood table.
“No, I believe you’ve thought of everything,” she said dryly.
“Sorry.” Juliet laughed, occupied with unloading the various plates of sandwiches, scones, fresh cream and … Laylah’s nose twitched, her mouth watering. Cake. German chocolate cake. “It’s so rare that I have visitors who aren’t here to kiss Victor’s ass or to try and assassinate him that I don’t remember how to treat a normal guest.”
Laylah snorted as she closed the door. “Don’t sweat it, there’s nothing normal about me.”
“Poor choice of words.” Juliet poured two cups of hot tea. “Did you know I’m a mongrel? Witch and imp. Or imp and witch, depending on who I’m trying to shock.”
Lured by her companion’s friendly chatter, and of course, the temptation of cake, Laylah crossed the room to join her next to the bay window that overlooked the sprawling parkland.