"True." He gave her a brief peck on her forehead, then traced away.
As she rode up the elevator, she considered what Cas had said about discovering the vampire's weaknesses. He couldn't get close enough to Daciano to learn anything meaningful.
But I can.
Inside her suites, she removed her cloak and mask, calling out, "I'm back."
In a distracted tone, Salem answered, "So you are. Big night, then? Lots of developments."
Floating closer to her, he said, "I told you the vampire would return. What was he talking to you about on the stage?"
Chapter 17
"Nothing important."
"Your little chin-wag wiv him was the subject of much discussion. He was all proprietary with you, like you'd known him a while."
"I never saw him before last night. You know that."
"You held his things for him while he fought," Salem pointed out.
"Because he foisted his coat on me!"
"Perception is reality, chit. The wily leech wants others to think you're his."
Chit? She was a princess! Why did everyone forget that?
Because you let them. . . . She remembered Morgana had once told her, "With your actions, you train others how to treat you."
"I don't want to talk about the vampire," she said. "I've got work to do." She turned toward her workshop, planting herself at her drafting table.
Again and again she attempted to sketch a new piece, but she was stumped. She needed a unique design, something Patroness had never seen.
She tapped her pencil against her bottom lip, her thoughts turning to tonight. Even if she decided to go, how was she supposed to get from point A to point B alone, without an episode?
To go undetected, she'd have to choose the most deserted route. A recipe for disaster.
Which would be stronger? A panic attack-or her vow to give the vampire what he asked for?
Bettina rose, stretched in a futile effort to relieve the tension in her shoulders, then began to wander aimlessly, still debating what to do.
She found Salem in the sitting room, unusually quiet, using telekinesis to thumb through her celebrity magazines-luxuries imported from the mortal realm.
She paced up and back; he turned a page. Repeat.
They continued like this as her grandfather clock ticked on. . . .
Toward midnight, she knew she had to get rid of him soon. But how?
"Princess." Salem suddenly occupied the door. "Going out for a spot."
"Pardon?" Yes, she wanted to get rid of him, but what if she'd actually wanted protection? "You're leaving me? What if I'm afraid the vampire might return?"
"Tonight I'm on a mission."
"What kind of mission?"
"The kind that takes precedence over protecting you from a vampire who will never hurt you."