Page 109 of Shadows of Nightshade
“And she asked me,” I explained.
I grabbed my shoulder and reflected, “I’ve been doing research on the side so that I can get into botany next semester. I’d left my notes in her lab. She gave them back to me and started talking about her conservatory. That’s when she asked me to house-sit for her.”
“Why would she ask you, though?” Damen scowled. “Why not ask Bryce—he already works for her.”
Bryce.
My mood soured at the mere mention of his name.
“Forget Bryce.” Damen rolled his eyes and waved his hand.
Gladly.
“I’m just pointing out that she hardly knows you. So how was it that you were the one chosen to watch this house and the mysteries that come with it?” Damen mused. “Especially considering who you are.”
I shrugged and tried not to let the sinking feeling in my stomach show on my face. “Coincidence,” I said. Although, in my heart, I knew it wasn’t.
And apparently, Damen felt that way too.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “I think there’s another reason why you’re here.”
His scrutiny began to move across the room, and his jaw locked. “I don’t think you should tell her yet,” he said. “And if she asks for an update, just stick with the basics.”
That shouldn’t be hard. “She hasn’t contacted me since she left.”
Damen frowned harder.
“Damen?” What was with that expression? The uneasy peace was replaced by a foreboding chill.
“Let’s get back,” Damen stood. I dropped the toolbox’s lid closed as I did the same. I brushed off my knees when he walked to me and held out his hand. “You’ll be late for your biology class. You wouldn’t want to keep Bryce waiting.”
That was a lie, but I understood the sudden urgency.
I took his hand and followed him. Every room we passed was still clean and undisturbed—nobody would ever know there’d been a fight just a few hundred feet away. Titus had mentioned that the only damage was to the basement and the yard itself—the rest of the house was sound—and that they’d be taking care of repairs.
But that reminded me.
“Wait.” I pulled on his hand, halting our progress just as we reached the front door. “Sorry,” I blushed. “I forgot to do something.”
“What—” he began, but I turned, dropping his hand.
“It’ll just be a second,” I mumbled. I just wanted to see.
Damen didn’t complain. Instead, he followed me as I movedtoward the back of the house, to the kitchen. As I entered the room, I turned on the soft yellow lights, expecting to see that one piece of evidence from the night before.
But when I looked, the stove and the counter was now cleared.
What had happened to the teapot and the mug? I hadn’t placed them there. And I hadn’t put them away.
“Bianca?” Damen asked, leaning close to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I frowned at the spotless kitchen. Maybe not every moment from my vision had been accurate. Things had been weird lately. “I was mistaken.”
But I was almost entirely sure.
“Okay,” Damen said, and grabbed my hand once more.
He’d been relentless with the touching since this morning—it was clear that he had an abandonment complex. Although, at this moment, I welcomed it. There was something much more innocent about his intentions when he touched me casually in this way.
