"Keller..."
"Don't mess with me, Danger. My number one mandate is to protect you. I may be human, but I'm your Squire and that includes all the inherent risks that come with the position. Okay? I was raised in this world and I know all the freaky shit it sometimes entails. I'm not going to leave you when we don't know what's going on other than someone is working with the Daimons. I've heard too much weirdness lately to just hightail it for no real reason."
She couldn't argue with any part of that. His loyalty warmed her greatly, and that was why when all this was over, she would request a new Squire to replace him. The last thing she wanted was to become emotionally attached to anyone, especially someone who would die of old age and wreck her.
She'd lost way too many people she cared about in her life to lose any more. The Squire's Council knew it, and since the day she'd joined the Dark-Hunter ranks, she'd never had a Squire for more than five years.
And never one with a child. There were some wounds that just didn't need to be probed.
"All right," she said quietly to him. "Go home and I'll keep in touch."
Keller nodded, then gathered up his lightweight jacket and left.
Grateful he'd listened for once, Danger took a deep breath as she headed for Alexion's room. She really didn't want him here, but what else could she do?
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
So long as he was in her house, she could monitor his activity and see what he was doing. Not to mention, she still wasn't thoroughly convinced by Kyros and his agenda. She'd heard a lot of weird things lately, including the rumor that some of the local Dark-Hunters were drinking human blood. For all she knew, Kyros was one of them and was currently setting her up for reasons only he knew.
Until she had more information about all of this, she would play it cooly and see for herself what was going on. But even as she thought that, a chill went over her. Alexion had some incredible powers that she wasn't sure she could fight.
How could a woman kill a man who didn't bleed?
At the end of the hallway on her upper floor, Danger pushed open the door to the guest room to find Alexion studying one of the Faberge eggs that she collected. She'd started the collection about forty years ago because they reminded her of the Malowanki eggs her father always brought back for her from his annual trips to Prussia to visit his grandmother. Until the year she died, Babcia would always make sure that she'd created the Malowanki eggs for all of them to remind them of their Prussian heritage and the beauty of Easter.
None of those precious, colored eggs that Danger had guarded so carefully as a human had survived. Calling them the frivolous waste of the aristocracy, her husband had taken great pleasure in destroying them after she'd died.
How she hated that man. But most of all, she hated herself for putting her trust in someone and allowing him to deceive her so completely.
She would never be so stupid again.
Narrowing her eyes on Alexion, she opened the door wider to watch him. His modern clothes looked rather out of place in a room she had fashioned into an exact copy of the one she'd grown up in. The hand-carved Baroque bed had been imported from Paris and was decked out in bloodred and gold pillows and comforter. Gold draperies fell from the padded half-tester. She'd spent a lot of time choosing the antiques for this room.
It was the last of her world and in many ways a time capsule. In here she sometimes thought that she could glimpse sight of her father... hear the faint laughter of her siblings.
Mon Dieu, how she missed them all.
Grief swelled inside her, but she held it back. There was no need in crying. She'd shed enough tears over the centuries to fill the Atlantic.
The past was the past and this was the present. Tears would not bring her family back and they would not alter her life in any way. All she could do was move onward and upward, and make sure that no one ever deceived her again.
For now, Alexion was the present and he was her enemy.
He stood before the small Neoclassical-style dressing table, holding the egg carefully in his large hand as if he understood how much she loved her collectibles. In spite of herself, she was struck by the gentleness of his touch as he closed it and returned it to its stand.
He was incredibly handsome standing there and her body reacted to him with an intensity that surprised her. It wasn't like her to be attracted to someone she had just met. Hot Hollywood actors in movies and magazines notwithstanding, she normally had to be around a guy a long time before she felt such a strong, potent desire for his body. If she ever felt desire for him. Most of the time, she could take or leave any man.
But she actually wanted to reach out and touch him. And that never happened.
Alexion felt her presence like a sizzling caress. It was as if she made contact with his soul every time she drew near him. Something that was completely impossible since he hadn't owned a soul in more than nine thousand years.
He didn't know what it was about her, but his body reacted wildly to her presence. Turning, he found her in the doorway, watching him with a wary, almost angry expression.
She was afraid of him and pissed at herself for that fear, he could feel it deep inside himself. But she was trying hard to disguise it.
He could respect her for that.
In the end, she was wise to fear him. He could kill her as easily as he blinked. Yet he didn't want to hurt her.