Page 69 of Backwoods
“You are a bright one.” Westbrook sipped his wine. His gaze never left her; those flat eyes drank in her body as deeply as he’d consumed the bowl of stew.
“Would you take me on a tour of the estate?” Amiya asked.
“A tour?” Westbrook’s lips folded into a frown. “I was intending to take you to my private quarters.”
“There’s plenty of time for that, I’d say.” She batted her eyelashes, and she saw his face brighten with interest. “I’ve been sequestered in a bedroom for most of the day. I’d love for you to show me around and tell me about your days of yore.”
“The lady asks, and she shall receive.” Westbrook tossed his napkin onto the table and rose from his chair, wineglass in hand. He offered his free arm to her and flashed his shark’s grin. “I’m happy to oblige.”
46
Remaining in the sheltering cover of the woods, Nick and Raven had circled to the back of the estate.
The rear was as well illuminated as the front, with lanterns spaced at regular intervals. The candlelight revealed a series of smaller interconnected structures that flanked the mansion: a kitchen, laundry, smokehouse, and other facilities. They flanked a grassy courtyard dominated by an elaborately designed wooden gazebo.
“It’s actually beautiful,” Nick whispered to Raven.
“At night,” Raven said.
Nick didn’t see any of the so-called helpers posted outdoors. He looked toward the house. Several large plate glass windows fronted the back wall of the residence. From his vantage point, Nick could see what was going on inside: well-dressed house staff bustling back and forth from one room to the next.
“There’s a lot going on in there,” Nick said. “Is that normal?”
Raven was about to answer when she pointed and let out a soft gasp. Nick felt as if his legs had been swept from underneath him.
He saw Amiya.
His girlfriend strolled along a corridor or room that placed her at the back windows of the house. She looked stunning in a red dress, and carried a glass of wine in a casual manner that he remembered from so many nights they had spent together.
She walked arm-in-arm with a tall, white-haired man who wore a black tuxedo. The man was chatting, gesturing expansively. Amiya was hanging on every word, like an ingénue dazzled by a worldly gentleman.
“I don’t believe it,” Nick said.
“She’s the master’s new lady,” Raven said. “I thought that would happen when I heard about them taking her to the house.”
“That’s Westbrook?” Nick asked. He stared at the walking, talking White man, who should have been a heap of ash in a grave, and on some subconscious level he still found it difficult to accept that such a thing was possible.
“He comes out at night, like the Overseer,” Raven said. “He does it for the women—that’s all he cares about.”
Nick saw Amiya laugh at something Westbrook said. He felt sick to his stomach.
Come on, babe, look out here and see me, Nick thought, wishing he could have telepathically sent those words to Amiya. He needed her to realize that he was alive and plotting to free her, to free all of them.
But Amiya didn’t glance toward the windows, and if she had, he doubted she would have spotted him, concealed in foliage.
Westbrook had lowered one hand to the small of Amiya’s back as he guided her along. Such an intense wave of anger tore through Nick that it took all of his self-control for him to stay still.
“The master is a phony,” Raven said. “He acts like he’s some nice guy, but she shouldn’t trust him. He’s going to take her to his bedroom and hurt her.”
“She’s got to be playing him, then,” Nick said, more to himself than to Raven. “She knows how to read people, better than I do. She’s got to be manipulating him.”
“Probably,” Raven said. A note of doubt colored her tone. “She sure looks like she’s having fun.”
Chattering like a couple on a first date, Amiya and Westbrook passed from view. Nick felt his stomach twist.
“We’ve got to get her out of there,” he said.
He fished in his pockets and brought out the matches, and a flash-bang.
