Blood Pledged (Arcane Arts Academy #3) - Elena Lawson Page 0,89

way into the tent out front. “Birthday girl coming through.”

For all she knew, she could’ve been shoving the murderer—the same person who’d been tampering with her memories—out of the way. I knew that whoever it was, they were here. Bianca had zombied out for a bit on Thursday when she came back to our room. When she came out of the trance, I didn’t say anything, and it was like it never happened. Which only made me wonder how many more times she was messed with that we didn’t even know about.

Looking at all the faces now turning one after the other to study me, or wish me a happy birthday, or say what an awesome house I had, or just outright stare, I knew we were utterly screwed.

This was going to be a lot harder than we thought.

I had two glasses of fountain wine outside, thinking the spot out in the yard would make it easier to spot my guys, before Martin found us. “Miss Bianca.” He gave her a short bow. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“You too,” Bianca said, drawing Marcus closer to her side. “This is Marcus. Marcus, this is Martin, Harper’s butler.”

It seemed odd to hear him called that—demeaning, almost, even though by all rights that is what he was. But my Martin was so much more than that.

I stepped in before Martin and Marcus could be formally introduced, stooping down to Martin’s height to wrap my arms around his slight frame. “Thank you,” I said into the collar of his impeccably tailored tailcoat. “I don’t even have words to express how incredible this all is.”

“Oh, come now.” He peeled me off of him, looking a little flustered. “All I did was delegate.”

Bianca patted him on the shoulder and smiled. “Well, you’re a very good delegator.” I nodded my agreement.

“Happy birthday, Miss Harper.”

I grinned, filling another glass from the table with wine from the fountain and handed it to Martin. “A toast,” I said, and Martin couldn’t refuse, taking the glass from me even though there was clearly wine dripping down the side of it. Oops.

He lifted his glass toward me. “To you.”

“To Harper,” Bianca and Marcus said at the same time.

“No,” I corrected them, not moving to clink my glass to theirs. “Not to me. To the man who pulled all of this off without a hitch. To Martin.”

“To Martin,” Bianca cheered and Marcus followed closely behind her, repeating the words.

Martin blushed furiously and stooped his head to hide it, pretending to adjust his monocle. “Right, well…” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, I suppose.”

“Could you escort me back inside?” I asked him, offering my arm. “I have to find Cal and Adrian.”

And Elias, and Draven, but I didn’t think it wise to tell anyone there was a vampire present—not even Martin.

“Ah, yes,” Martin looped my arm through his, his posture becoming less closed off. “I’ve only just seen them before I came outside. They’re in the study. May I take you to them?”

“Yes, please!” I said and set my glass down. We’d already gotten several steps away when I remembered Bianca and Marcus and spun quickly to call out to them that I’d be back in a little while and to enjoy the party.

Martin directed me through the Abbey with ease, knowing all the alternate hallways and doorways that lead from rooms to other rooms to avoid the worst of the crowds. In the time it took me and Bianca to go from the foyer to the kitchen when we first arrived, Martin had taken me all the way through the entire house and deposited me right in front of the door to the study. Hell, he may even have done it faster.

He pushed open the door and I sighed, seeing the four of them all together, as though they’d been waiting for me there this whole time.

Hurriedly, I thanked Martin for his help. I didn’t want to come off as rude, but if he stayed too long, he’d notice one of my guests wasn't a witch or witch’s familiar. For all I knew he might’ve been fine with it, but since Granger was still here somewhere, I thought it best not to push it.

I closed the door the moment he turned away and spun to find four pairs of eyes watching me, unblinking. Four mouths with lips slightly parted. Four near identical looks of shock.

“What?” I demanded. “Is there wine on my dress?” I searched the corset but found only cleavage and