Page 36 of When Bones Whisper
She leaned forward, picking at her cuticles. “I know they reveal the true evil in demons. I assume they do the same to vampires.”
“That would be correct,” he said nonchalantly.
“Hmm.” She sat back, a slight smile curving her lips. “It must be a nightmare to groom yourself.”
He laughed, actually laughed, the sound whooshing air from his nose. A smile almost curved his lips, a genuine one, not a smirk, when Alexander strode in and his face fell back into the same disappointed, stoic expression.
“What have I missed?” he asked, tilting his head when he saw Charlotte’s grin.
“Nathaniel smiled.”
“A trick of the light, I assure you,” he grumbled.
Alexander tsked. “Ignore him. He forgot how to feel joy hundreds of years ago and punishes us for it.” He winked, green eyes glistening. She was pretty sure he was exaggerating, but there was a chance he wasn’t.
Nathaniel pointed a finger at me from the side of his glass. “Be careful with that tongue, lest I tear it from your mouth.”
“You would miss my conversation too much,” Alexander remarked.
“You jest. You are not interesting enough for me to feel your absence.”
“Well, that all comes down to your dull taste,” he stated with a boyish grin and turned to look at Charlotte. “Let me show you the rose garden and we can discuss the ball and how we plan on entrapping the witches.”
“You mean, I can go outside?”
Nathaniel shook his head, shoulders tensing. “Absolutely not.”
Alexander’s lips quirked at the corners, hands in his pockets. “Don’t listen to him. You need some fresh air.”
“I am being serious,” Nathaniel said, lowering his voice.
“Yes, well, that is your regressive state,” Alexander quipped, earning a smirk from Charlotte who quickly tried to hide when she noticed Nathaniel glance at her.
“Once the Avery witches are taken care of, she can live in the gardens for all I care.”
“Please,” she asked, standing. “I fear I may go insane if I remain trapped in this manor. I want to look at the roses. I can see them from my bedroom window and they’re in full bloom.”
“It is too dangerous,” he said and stood. “It is only one more week until you are free. Until we all are.”
“So, that is it? What you say goes?”
“Yes.”
“If I disobey and go anyway?” she questioned with a defiant stare.
He smirked, hooking a brow, his eyes threading with challenge. “I dare you to try.”
“Fine. I shall return to prison then.”
A heavy knock resounded on the door just as she was preparing herself to go to bed. Assuming it was Hartley, or Alexander, she called out, “come in,” but it was Nathaniel who opened it, and took one step inside.
“I got you this.”
Her brows pinched down when she looked at the freshly cut rose in his fingers.
“A rose from the garden,” he said when she didn’t speak, or move.
“Oh.” With a thick swallow, she climbed off the bed and took the bright red rose in her fingers. She had always disliked receiving flowers as a gift. While it was a kind gesture on his part, they were a symbol of death. The moment they were snipped from their plant, they were dying and would soon wilt. “Thank you.”
