Page 69 of House of Pawns
This is never, ever going to end.
“Where’d you hear that from?” I ask.
“It’s a small town. Word gets ‘round.”
My lips form into a thin line and I concentrate on the road ahead.
“I think it’s great,” she continues. “It’s easy to feel alone in these small little towns. Everyone needs someone.”
I look over at her, her empty, sightless sockets turned out the front window. “Do you have someone?”
“Oh,” she says, waving a hand. “I’ve got friends all over.”
Yet I’ve only ever seen her alone.
I see the sign for Willabee Road and turn onto it. “How far down this?”
“It’s the little white house ‘bout a mile down with the red barn behind it,” she says. “Daddy left it to me. That’s why I moved into it last summer. He passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say as the Jeep plows through the thick snow. I look for her footprints from when she left earlier, but don’t see them. The falling snow has already buried them.
Daphne nods. “It was his time. Least, that’s what he kept sayin.”
We take the rest of the ride in comfortable silence and when I see the little white house, and it is indeed very little, I pull up as close to the house as I can manage.
It’s tiny. Rundown looking. The porch is sagging badly. But then again, since she can’t see, I suppose Daphne doesn’t mind what it looks like, so long as everything inside works.
“You warm enough in there?” I ask.
“Oh yes,” she nods in the affirmative. “Got a nice little wood burner that keeps things toasty.”
And I do see a constant stream of smoke rising from the chimney.
“Let me walk you inside,” I say as I’m about to open my door.
“No,” she says, almost a little too sharply. It startles me, actually. “No,” she says again, this time calmer. “I’ve gotten ‘long on my own just fine for years. I can make it to my own front door. Thank you for the ride, Alivia.”
I can’t help but feel sick, leaving her here like this. But what other choice do I have? “You’re welcome. Stay warm and safe.”
She climbs out, turning back for a moment. “You, too, my dear. You, too.”
She closes the door, and I watch until she waves to me from inside, just before she closes her rickety looking front door.
Pulling back on the road, I slowly make my way back. I glance at the clock when I get onto the main road. Eleven o’clock.
Less than eight hours until dark.
Less than eight hours until the King will likely arrive.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“IWILL DO WHATEVER I can to protect you,” I say as I try to swallow the lump in my throat. “You have my word.”
My House members stare back at me. We have gathered in the library and suddenly, we feel so few. Six vampires. One unknown. One spy who’s motives I feel are shifting. And me. Nine is nothing.
They each wear their best. Lillian in a spectacular gown. Anna in an intimidating leather jacket and serious boots. Samuel, Markov, and Nial—all in suits. Cameron in a button up shirt and jeans, that’s as nice as he gets.
