Night's Honor (Elder Races #7)(29)

“That’s right, Xavier left right after you got here.” He shook his head. “Normally people start feeling the benefits from a blood offering right away, but it must not have taken hold for you yet.”

She didn’t even want to get into that subject. Shaking her head, she screwed off the top of the water bottle and drank. “I guess I was naive, because I thought I was in shape.”

“You weren’t bad. Thing is, around here ‘not bad’ isn’t good enough.” He looked at her sidelong. “Are you sorry you came?”

She ran the cold bottle over her hot forehead. “I don’t know how I feel.” A quick glance around the large area told her that she and Diego were the only ones around. She confessed, “It’s almost like Raoul wants me to fail. Like he wants me to reach the point after another hard, bruising fall when I’ll throw in the towel and quit.”

Diego glanced around too then shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. He does seem to be riding you pretty hard.”

“Well, if he is, to hell with him,” she said between her teeth. “I never quit anything just because things got rough. I don’t know how.”

“Good attitude, chica, except for one thing. There’s lots of easier ways to live life. You don’t always have to go the hard way.” Before she could react, he slapped her lightly on the back, straightened and walked back to the weights.

Scowling, she finished off the rest of the water and headed out to the shooting range. Maybe Diego was right. The problem was, she didn’t know anything but the hard way.

After living her childhood in a series of foster homes, she had worked multiple jobs to get through school and had graduated with two bachelor’s degrees, one in computer science and the other in accounting. Nobody had ever given her anything. She’d always had to fight to succeed, and this would be no different.

As she had promised Xavier, she did everything Raoul asked of her. When at first she couldn’t run for an entire hour every day, she ran and walked as fast as she could, often battling a stitch in her side.

Then came the daily weight training sessions, both on machines and with free weights, and swimming, three times a week. After cardio and muscle-building exercises came the training sessions—hand to hand, small weapons training and the shooting range.

At the end of some days she could barely climb up the stairs to crawl into bed. At least severe exhaustion had stopped the nightmares with Malphas, because as soon as her head hit the pillow each night, she slept like the dead.

As for Malphas, despite being an all-Powerful Djinn, either he was completely out of touch with how a mere human might be able to hide, or retrieving her hadn’t become that important to him—yet.

At the end of January, she had received her first stipend for a thousand dollars. When Raoul summoned her into his office, which was located off one end of the gym, and he handed her the receipt, she stared at the number for a while, too shocked to say anything.

Everything she needed had already been bought and paid for. She had even been given new clothes for training, along with three pairs of excellent running shoes. The stipend was just for discretionary spending.

Raoul asked, “Do you want the money deposited into a bank account?”

She shook her head numbly. If it went into one of her accounts, she wouldn’t be able to touch it. Worse, the account activity might attract attention.

“Very well,” he said after a few moments. “Until you decide what to do with it, I’ll keep a running total of what you’re owed.”

“Actually, could I have it on a prepaid Visa card?” she asked. At least then she would have the money readily at hand, in case something untoward happened and she had to leave. “I might want to order some books, or maybe a portable stereo for my room.”

“Of course. I’ll get one ordered for you.”

The card arrived at the end of that week, and Raoul gave it to her one night after supper.

She didn’t order anything. Instead, she tucked the card away in her underwear drawer. If the position fell through, that anonymous Visa card was her lifeline away from the estate. She intended on collecting as many of them as she could get. Even if she lasted only as long as the trial period, when the year was up, she would have twelve thousand dollars to help her relocate somewhere else.

She liked the shooting range. It was the only time during the day that she could stop straining her whole body, all except for her arms and shoulders. Even then, sometimes those ached so much it was all she could do to aim two-handed with a small Glock 17 that weighed less than two pounds. She also discovered she was good at target practice, and she liked the work with the handguns, although she struggled with the larger automatic weapons.

Throughout her training, people drifted in and out of her lessons, some joining her for the morning run while others participated in other activities, until gradually she grew acquainted with the other eleven inhabitants of the estate.

There was Raoul, of course, the polite sadist who was clearly the acknowledged manager in Xavier’s absence. Raoul’s deputy was Diego, who was responsible for all the vehicles and for maintaining the indoor pool. There were also Angelica and her assistant, Enrique; Jordan and his assistant, Peter; and Marc, Jeremy, Aaron, Scott and Brian, the five she had been cloistered with until Melisande and Justine had left the estate.

Angelica, the only other female, was a reticent, gray-haired woman of Hispanic descent with a rounded form that was nevertheless toned with muscle. Tess wanted to ask her why there were so few women on the estate, but there never seemed to be a good time to talk with her.