Page 17 of Wanted

Still, I came to this room often and for a different reason. I came trying to find answers to the past, but no answers were forthcoming.

"Would you care to watch something?"

I spun around to find the Count standing there, studying me with his magnetic dark gaze.

"No, um. I was just… " I fumbled for words. Then, I blurted, "Did you know someone was murdered in this house?"

He tilted his head. "Yes, I'm quite aware."

I stared at him, astonished. "And that doesn't bother you?"

He responded with a casual shrug. "No. Death has never been a particular worry of mine. And as for violence, I'm fairly impervious.” He entered the room and took a seat in one of the chairs to stretch out his long, elegant legs. "Does it bother you?" he asked with a curious lift of his brow.

It did. A lot. I took the liberty of sitting in the chair to his right as I confessed, "I was here. The night it happened."

That surprised him. I could tell by the way his eyes widened. "And yet you chose to work here? Why?"

"Maybe I'm impervious to violence, as well,” I replied. That was a lie. I attracted violence like a magnet. But I was a survivor. I turned my head to the side and added in a low voice. “When you grow up the way I did, you get used to anything, I suppose."

You did. And especially with dark things. A lot of shit went down that night. Death was just part of it.

Silence fell, but strangely, I wasn’t tempted to start filling it with babble. We just sat there, companionably.

Then, after a time, the Count stirred. "Shall we watch a movie?"

"A movie?"

Amusement glinted in his dark eyes. "You are familiar with the concept, I assume?"

I laughed and leaned back in my plush chair, feeling strangely lighthearted. "Yes, I'm familiar. What did you have in mind?"

He clicked the remote and scrolled through titles. "How about Dracula?"

I grinned. "Old school. I like it."

He scowled at me. "Not that old."

But I didn’t have time to dissect his reaction anymore as he dimmed the lights with the remote and the movie started.

I’d be lying if I said I watched the movie. Well, I scanned the screen from time to time and pretended to follow the plot, but my attention was on the Count more than anything else. It was impossible to sit so close without being keenly aware of his every move. From time to time, our fingers accidentally brushed against each other, his leg would shift, or our feet would touch.

Finally, when the film ended, he stood. "Thank you for indulging me. Now, I shall retire."

I glanced at the clock. 9:40p.m. Strange. The Count was usually in bed with a woman by now, having gone at it for at least a few hours.

"You don't have a date tonight?" I asked, the surprise having loosened my tongue, but who could blame me? It was the first night since I started working here that he wasn't entertaining a woman.

"Not tonight. Have a good day, Kassandra. And rest well."

I watched him walk out and then stretched in preparation of my nightly duties. I had an easy schedule for tonight, just the—

My eyes fell on the bar counter. Something glistened in the light.

Were those…keys?

I was there in an instant. My. God.Keys. He’d left them there, next to the remote. His fucking key chain and on it, the key to hisstudy.

I swallowed as my fingers trembled with excitement.

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