Page 12 of House of Pawns
Again.
Chapter
Six
MONDAY.
If I’m going to be a ruler, I need to get all of my affairs in order. And I left a very kind and understanding man hanging without a word.
At just before five in the morning, I slip out of my bedroom and walk down the hall, past the bedroom Ian is sleeping in. He never returned to me last night. My heart aches as I walk past the door and down the stairs.
I don’t want to wonder if things will ever be the same between us again. But deep down, in the space deep in every person that whispers unfailing truth, I know. Everything has changed.
I take the keys to the Porsche, and on the driver’s seat, I find another puzzle piece.
I’m getting tired of this. Of this spy always watching me. Of him breaking into my home. He’s good. I have Ian and Rath, and neither one of them have heard a thing.
This is getting old.
I head into town. The streets are quiet with only a few lights on and dawn still an hour from breaking. I pull into the small, familiar parking lot and climb out.
It smells like heaven inside. I’m flooded with memories. From just a week ago. From months ago. Years of my life have been spent in bakeries, my hands caked in flour and dough.
That will never be the same, either.
“We don’ open for another hour, but you welcome to come back then,” a voice calls from the back.
I weave between the tables and step into the back.
“Hi, Fred,” I say tentatively.
He turns to face me. Sweat coats his brow, despite the winter temperatures. A streak of flour is spread over his right cheek. He has a rolling pin in his hands.
“Well, look who decided to show back up.”
His voice is certainly annoyed. But it doesn’t carry the bite he’s entitled to.
“Yeah,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Things have been a little crazy lately.”
“Well, I’ve certainly been hearing some crazy stories, and your name’s been mentioned,” he says as he goes back to work.
“May I ask what stories have been told?” Everything in me tenses and my palms break out into a cold sweat.
“Just stories about the dead and doomed love.” He coats his hands in flour before moving on to the next step.
I reach out and place a hand on his shoulder. He looks back at me, and I hope he sees the desperation on my face. “Please, Fred. I need to know.”
He holds my gaze a moment longer, and his eyes soften. He goes back to working. “Things been bad around town as of late, you know that.” I nod. “Rumors been flyingaround that despite the animosity between Mr. Ian Ward and Jasmine Voltera, he’d gone and fallen in love with their new little project.”
My heart starts climbing up my throat to take up residence.
Fred glances over his shoulder at me, and there’s a new darkness in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. “Yeah, that’s right, child. I know all about the vampires and the House and exactly what your daddy was. What you’ll become one day.”
I swallow once. It’s the first time someone has actually acknowledged everything, outside of the House, Rath, or Ian. “You know all of that, and you still hired me?”
Fred looks back at what he’s doing. “My people were once enslaved and treated like nothing. My family has been in this town for over two hundred years. I know stories. The Conraths, both of ‘em, owned most of ma’ family. They treated us with respect and kindness. Two centuries have passed. Freedom. Change. But trust me, child. I know what it’s like to have people look at you and judge you for something that is beyond your control. For something that you should never be ashamed of.”
I don’t have words. It takes me a while to absorb everything he’s just said. Our families have history. Oppression. The dark past no one up north wants to ever talk about.
