A Gift of Three (A Shade of Vampire #42)(44)

“What is this place?” Vita asked again when we arrived in the first room—the one where Jovi and I had found the Druid. The fire was still roaring away, making the room feel like a furnace after the damp of the basement.

I really didn’t know how to answer her.

“Not entirely sure,” I replied. “I guess the closest thing it brings to mind is some kind of plantation house from the eighteen hundreds…it’s really old, but then has working plumbing and taps and stuff. Hot water as well. You’ll be able to see it better in the morning.”

“But we’re in the In-Between, right?” she clarified.

“Yep.” I paused. “I know… it doesn’t make a lot of sense to me either.”

“As long as there’s a bed,” Aida replied sleepily. “We can work out the rest tomorrow. But I’m telling you all, just for the record, I’m no Oracle.”

“Me neither,” Phoenix confirmed. “The only thing I can predict is that I’m going to be pissed off when I wake up tomorrow and I’m not in the fire fae kingdom.”

“You and me both.” Aida yawned.

I smiled, glancing over at Jovi. He shook his head in bemusement. They all seemed to be taking it, well…far better than we had done. I wondered if things would be different in the morning.





Serena





[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]




I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed.

When I looked over to my left, Aida and Vita were fast asleep, Aida’s curly brown hair enmeshed on the pillow with Vita’s golden blonde. I sighed, feeling my heart rate slow down as I realized that both of my friends were safe.

Not wanting to wake them, I carefully slid out of the bed, pulling at the corner of my ridiculous nightgown that had gotten trapped beneath Vita’s leg. I walked through to the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water. I saw my pajamas, already dry, on the back of the door. Hoping I wouldn’t make too much noise, I turned on the shower, putting the water at a medium heat. I looked down at my body. My legs and arms were slashed with dried cuts from the branches and grass. I was thankful it wasn’t worse. They stung a bit when I stepped into the shower, but I cleaned them off, hoping that none of the saliva from those gruesome creatures had gotten into any of my cuts.

Last night felt like one long, horrific nightmare—from the moment we’d arrived, to the creatures calling my name, and then my friends and brother sitting up with their eyes rolling back into their heads, announcing they were Oracles.

It hardly seemed believable now. The sun shone brightly through the small window in the bathroom, the air wasn’t humid yet, just pleasantly warm. Keeping the windows open had also helped matters—the room didn’t smell quite so musty and stale, and I could almost appreciate the shabby charm of the house. Almost.

Once I was clean and dry, I put my pajamas back on, not feeling quite as ridiculous as I had in my Victorian get-up, but close.

I ventured out of the room, leaving the girls to their sleep. They probably needed it, and I knew from many years of prior experience neither of them appreciated being woken up early. Especially not by me.

The rest of the house was silent, and I made my way along the corridor quietly, trying not to disturb anyone else. I could smell food coming from the rooms below, and headed in the direction of the banquet room, wondering if there would be anything other than last night’s leftovers.

I pushed the door open, and jumped when I saw the Druid sitting at the furthest end of the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here,” I stammered, moving backward out of the door. I didn’t really want to be left alone with him.

“I was leaving,” he announced, rising from his chair.

I looked down at the table where he’d just been sitting. There was nothing in front of him other than a glass of water.

“Don’t you eat?” I asked.

“I eat. Just not right now,” he snapped.

I nodded, turning my attention back to the other places that were set at the table. Once again, there were plates covered with warming dishes and a pot of something hot in the middle of the table.

“Is that coffee?” I asked, hardly daring to get excited until it was confirmed, while amazed to find something so mundane available on a star in the In-Between.

“Yes,” he replied. “You can help yourself.”

I moved closer to the pot, smiling despite myself as I smelt the warm, familiar aroma.

“Did you do this?” I asked. “I mean, do you cook?”

It was hard for me to imagine him standing at a kitchen counter, slaving over a hot stove. He really didn’t seem the type.

“No,” he replied firmly.

“Then who?” I asked.

He sighed, clearly unenthusiastic about having to answer more questions.

Tough. You need to start talking, I thought. We’d have a lot more questions before the day was through, I could promise him that much.

“The house. Or rather, the wards which make it safe produce all this.” He gestured at the food. “The easiest way to understand it is by imagining that the house is its own ‘being’—regenerating itself at the start of every day. The wards renew themselves constantly, and provide for its inhabitants.”