by T. M. Hart
However, the beauty of the room aside, I didn’t want to be there. Maxim had said that the Shadow Prince and the Crone lived in the manor. I wasn't about to waste any more time than necessary in this place, even if things were off to a better start than I had hoped for. I immediately began reconnaissance.
I tried to spend the day learning all I could about the manor, the prince, and the Crone. Only, there was nothing to learn. Room after room of the imposing structure was uninhabited. Each and every one stale, dusty, and unused in far too long.
There was absolutely no evidence that a crone or a prince lived here. I seemed to be the only soul present.
The one and only room not covered in cobwebs, other than my suite, was the kitchen. I had stumbled upon it mid-morning. It was spotless with not one single item out of place. The surprising part, aside from the lack of grime, was that there was food in the refrigerator and pantry. It made sense since I had been served dinner as well as breakfast, but it was still an unexpected discovery.
By the afternoon, I had checked every room in the manor with nothing to show for it. Returning to my room, I retrieved the card Maxim had given me and called him. I wasn't expecting an answer, but he picked up after the first ring.
"Yes, your highness. How may I be of service to you?"
"There's no one here," I accused.
"Begging your pardon, your highness?"
"This place is an empty tomb. No one lives here. I get it. This is my prison. I haven't tried, but I'm guessing I won't be able to leave. Also, I don't understand why you're bothering to feed me. Although if you're planning on eating me, I guess it makes sense."
Maxim began to splutter on the other end of the line. He was very convincing at sounding aghast. "Your highness, I can guarantee that absolutely no one is planning to eat you–"
"It's Violet, bozo." I was stealing the term from Giddeon, but he wasn't around to know. And I was pissed. More so at myself than Maxim, but again, another detail that another person didn't need to know.
If I was being honest, my feelings were hurt. I had thought, one way or another, that I was going to be some big deal within the Shadow Court. Instead, I had been tossed aside like yesterday's garbage.
"Begging your pardon, Violet. You have my sincerest apologies for the less than ideal circumstances. It has been a rather uncouth welcome, I understand. I am at the mercy of my orders. Please believe me when I tell you it is for your safety alone that you have been placed in a secure location. It is by no means a prison.
"And as for those in residence with you . . . The prince is somewhat of a recluse. I do not know what I can do other than apologize on his behalf."
"Yeah, well, you'll be hearing from me again," I threatened. And then I abruptly hung up.
I tapped my phone, happy about how that conversation had gone. If Maxim was to be trusted–no one was planning on eating me. That was a plus. And he was clearly under the impression that the Shadow Prince lived here. I sighed. But he could have very well been lying. There was no way of knowing.
He was also keeping up with the whole loyal subject act, which for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. I was exactly where he had wanted me. I hadn't objected or put up a fight. Why continue with the charade?
However, aside from my self-imposed mission and my self-preservation, there was another reason I wanted to get closer to Maxim. And it had to do with that dream.
After so many years of never experiencing the barest hint of sexual excitement, I had suddenly been plunged into a deep, dark well of arousal only hours after meeting him . . . It was hard to believe that was mere coincidence.
I had wanted to hear his voice again, had wanted some sort of connection to him. I'd had my first taste of raw lust. It had been heady and addicting. I wanted more.
And just to be clear, it wasn't that I wanted to do anything with Maxim. I was simply after more of the experience– the desire itself. After all, I was well aware of how he actually looked. Believe me, the thought of being physical with a Shadow was revolting. But I was so desperate to experience basic desire again that I firmly pushed the image of Maxim's true form aside. The glamour he wore was quite appealing, and I focused on that.
Unfortunately, there had been no spark upon hearing his voice. Maybe I needed to see him in person. I dialed his number again.
"Yes, Violet. How may I be of service to you?"
"I want to see you tonight," I blurted.
"Begging your pardon?"
My face heated at my lack of finesse. "I mean I want to go out tonight."
"Would you be so kind as to clarify what you mean by out?"
"A bar. I would like to go out to a bar tonight."
"I am sorry, but that will not be possible. It is best you remain at the Dark Manor, during this initial transition, where it is safest. If it is liquor you desire, I will have some brought to you."
"You just said I'm not a prisoner here, but it sure seems like it," I countered. "And it's not like there's anyone here to miss my presence."
"Again, you have my sincerest apologies, but I must follow my orders."
I tried to sweeten my tone. I had to remember that I wanted everyone I encountered to see me as an innocent, naive girl. "Maxim? May I ask who issued your orders?"
"My apologies, Violet. I am not a liberty to say."
I swore under my breath. If he apologized one more time, I was convinced it would be impossible for me to get hard-up over him ever again.
"No problem," I replied. "But Maxim?"
"Yes, Violet?"
"You did refer to me as the new Princess of Shadows yesterday, didn't you?"
"Yes, of course."
"So if I'm not a prisoner here, and if I—well—I command it, then don't you need to follow my orders?"
"Please understand, it is for your safety—"
I rolled my eyes. This guy was insufferable. I took a deep breath, trying to hang on to my patience. "And besides, it's like you said yesterday," I interrupted. "No one knows I'm here or even of this new . . . union. It's not like anyone will know who I am. I have my cape. I can wear it and keep the hood drawn the whole evening. Or you can even have your witch spell up a glamour for me, if you like."
Again with the spluttering, Maxim began to say something, but I'd had enough.
"Okay, gotta go!" I told Maxim. "I'll see you here tonight!" Then I hung up on him again, which, if I'm being honest, I thoroughly enjoyed.
I spent the rest of the day continuing my search of the manor, going over the rooms with more care. I should have known I was wasting my time. I should have known it was not the open rooms that held secrets, but the ones locked and buried away deep in the earth. I should have known it was not a room I needed to find at all, but a door. An old, rotted door.
Chapter 8
I clasped the red cloak around my neck and drew the hood. However, instead of a basket of fruit, I carried a couture clutch filled with weapons, and I made my way down the overgrown drive.
Looking back, the red riding hood complex was a bit obvious, but I can assure you I was oblivious at the time.
The darkness of night was swiftly falling, and a blanket of fog was encroaching upon the manor. The eerie atmosphere caused goosebumps to brush across my neck.
As I made my way through the unkempt grasses and bramble, I heard a howl from the surrounding woods. I turned to check for an approaching beast. But it wasn't an animal I found.
There was a figure standing on the cliff high above. At least, I had thought there was. I squinted, trying to make out the person in the twilight, but when I adjusted my focus, there was no one up there, just a lone oak tree.
I looked back towards the tree tunnel as the enormous wrought iron gate began to open and that same black SUV from the previous night started its ascent up the drive. I took a deep breath, trying to measure my excitement. Unable to see through the blacked-out windows, I hoped Maxim wore his glamour.
The vehicle came to a stop in front of me, t
he driver's door swinging open. And I held my breath.
Maxim rushed to my side. Thank the Light, he looked like the strong, attractive male from the previous night. His dark hair was combed back, slash of brows emphasizing the gray eyes that seemed to shimmer in the evening light, and his chiseled masculine features looked exactly as I remembered. Even the suit he wore was filled out with packed muscles underneath. I had been afraid that if the glamour held, perhaps it would shift or alter from one encounter to the next. Luckily, he looked exactly the same.
"Your highness, what are you doing out here? You should await my arrival in your quarters. I will always escort you from within the manor. It is not safe for you to be out here alone."
"Ugh, Maxim. This is not an attractive quality of yours," I informed him.
He looked confused. "Begging your pardon?"
"Never mind. Let's go!" I made my way for the passenger door.
He jumped in front of me to open the vehicle door and attempted to give me a hand.
"Your—Violet, I have brought many bottles of varying kinds of alcohol with me. Perhaps you would like to remain here. I have also procured a cocktail recipe book and will be happy to serve you in your quarters if you like."
"Wow. That sounds like a total blast," I told him. "You really know how to entice a girl, Maxim. But I would rather go out, thanks." I pushed him back and shut the door.
I wanted to get out of the creepy manor. Twenty-four hours was enough in that place, especially since I hadn't come across anything worthwhile to stay for. Plus, I wanted to get a feel for the surrounding area and people. I needed to know everything about this new place to determine my best course of action.
Maxim's shoulders looked tense as he crossed in front of the SUV and over to the driver's side. I couldn't help it. I giggled. He was such a tight-ass. Upon initially seeing him, I had felt zero chemistry. But I wondered how much of that was due to him being an immediate buzz-kill.
To my surprise, he didn't argue further, and we began our departure. I spent the entire drive surreptitiously glancing at him, searching for that blazing attraction I had experienced in my dream. I also noticed a second black SUV begin to tail us once we made our way to the main road.
Maxim would catch me staring at him and look at me with uncertain questioning. He finally broke the silence. "There are not any high-end establishments in the vicinity. The closest bar is one I fear that will be lacking for your standards."
"I've been busy, a lot," I told him. "But on the rare occasion when I did go out, my favorite place was a casual little hole-in-the-wall."
Maxim didn't seem convinced, but he also didn't argue.
After about forty-five minutes, we finally came upon a little town with a small main street where Maxim slowed and eventually parked the SUV on the side of the road. Our vehicle, and the one that had tailed us, were the only ones in sight.
"What the heck is this?" I asked him.
Buildings composed of wattle and daub with thatched roofs lined the street. A few carts containing fruits and vegetables were present and random chickens milled about. There were gas street lamps lining the thoroughfare, aglow with flickering light.
The few people strolling along were dressed in an odd manner. I decided to refer to their attire as neo-medieval. While the men mostly wore tunics with trousers and the woman were in long dresses with tight bodices, the garments had an undeniable modern look.
I wore a sheath dress and cloak so I kind of fit right in. I looked over at Maxim with a smirk. I was just another gal out for the evening.
If anyone stood out, and was going to call attention to themselves, it was Maxim and the two goons who were getting out of the SUV next to us. All three were wearing expensive dark suits.
I directed my chin towards one of the men passing by. "Did you not get the memo on the dress code?"
Maxim wasn't amused by my teasing. "I am working in an official capacity for our government. A suit is standard attire for my position. This is well known among the Shadow villages. My attire alone is no cause for notice. However, the fact that a beautiful, young, affluent woman is being chaperoned by three elite government officials from our security branch . . . well you can imagine how that may cause some questions as well as invite gossip and speculation."
I ignored Maxim's veiled censure. "Why is everything so . . . antiquated?"
Maxim shifted as if uncomfortable. "While the Shadow Court has relocated to London, and many of our people now reside there, there are a few villages and areas where our people still live life as they once did. Not much has changed throughout the years. They are somewhat isolated and stuck, in a sense, in the old ways."
I wasn't ready to commit to an opinion on this, so I refrained from a reply.
Maxim turned in his seat to face me more directly. "There is nothing here to entice you. Allow me to escort you back to the manor. I will make any drink you like there."
I tried to read the swinging wood sign on the building in front of us. "Why don't you and your buddies head back. I'm going to check out," I squinted to make out the faded lettering, "The Screaming Banshee." Then I opened my door to head inside.
Maxim immediately sprang out from his door, streaking across the front of the car, and crossed to my side. With my elbow in his hand he pulled me back. "We must first assess the location." He gave a nod to the two goons at the other vehicle, and they entered the pub.
"Killian would love you," I muttered.
After we got the all clear, Maxim and I entered the quaint establishment. It was old and dim inside, with wood everything, and small gas lanterns placed throughout. Some kind of fragrant tobacco permeated the air, and a big lug of a man stood behind the bar.
From a brief glimpse of the handful of patrons drinking in the pub, and the folks that had been strolling about outside, it seemed they all wore glamours. I couldn't, for the life of me, understand why. I had assumed that when upon their own lands and among their own people the Shadows would maintain their true form. Yet every single individual looked completely normal.
Although, truth be told, the bartender could have used a few improvements. Maybe he was forcing an inexperienced witch to cast his glamour.
Without waiting for Maxim, I headed straight for the bar. "Good evening." I directed the pleasantry to the beefy bartender. He flicked his beady eyes over me before grunting and returning to the glass he had been polishing.
"Is this lovely establishment yours?"
Another grunt was my only reply. I slipped a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar top, and the sweaty oaf stopped his polishing, eyeing the bill before setting down the glass. He placed two burly hands onto the bar counter and leaned in towards me. "What can I do for you?" His voice was like gravel being ground.
"Do you happen to have the Green Fairy?" I asked him.
He eyed my dress under the front of my cloak and sneered. "Do I look like a man who can afford that rubbish?"
I inclined my head. What I really wanted to do was tell him he was being a jackass, but years of practice at the Radiant Court had me holding my tongue and offering my warmest smile. "What is the most potent libation you offer?"
"I've got some kerosene in the back you're welcome to."
I nodded at a whiskey jug. "Perhaps two of your finest whiskey, if it isn't a bother."
He grabbed the jug without looking away from me and brought the cork stopper to his mouth. Using what teeth he had left, he removed the cork and filled two tumblers before shoving them towards me.
Instead of cringing, I smiled and thanked him. Giving a pointed look at the bill on the countertop I told him, "There's more if you keep them coming."
I set the drinks down on one of the small wooden tables and took a seat after Maxim pulled a chair out for me. However, instead of taking the other seat at the table, Maxim continued to stand behind my shoulder—hovering.
"Now, Maxim," I chastised. "I know your refined manners will not allow for me to sit here and drink alone." I gestur
ed to the opposite seat. "Please."
Although clearly unhappy about it, Maxim took a seat at the table. And with all the enthusiasm of a man facing the gallows, he raised his glass, and drank.
◆◆◆
Stiff, formal, mannerly Maxim . . . was lit. I had no idea how it had happened. I had thought getting him drunk was going to be a monumental undertaking requiring the highest level of chicanery. But god ol' Maxim continued to down drink after drink as they were delivered to our table. And little by little he had loosened up until he was downright affable.
I had begun with mild, unassuming conversation. Asking Maxim about the weather in the area, scenic places to visit, and what holidays the Shadows celebrated.
He was definitely more fun to be around, but as far as my libido went, there was nothing. I was not feeling the slightest attraction to him.
I also couldn't stop thinking about his true form. The idea of what he truly looked like was haunting me. I reasoned that I needed to see him without his glamour, a kind of immersion therapy. I needed the ordeal over with.
I began to direct the conversation towards Shadow-life. And while he was wrapped up in his happy yammering, I casually brought up the glamours.
"So do you ever take the glamour off?" I asked.
Maxim snorted in his whiskey. "Pardon?"
"Like what about when you go to sleep? And where do you keep your witch? Do you really have to keep her captive? Isn't there any way the Shadows and Wicca could come to some sort of arrangement? I mean, I'm sure you could strike a deal with the witches. They could continue to spell glamours for you in exchange for freeing all those you keep captive."
Maxim squinted his eyes, slowly nodding. "Ah, yes. The glamours . . . us Shadows wear . . . and the witches we hold captive." He gave a final nod as if coming to some sort of understanding, and I was hopeful that my suggestion would be seriously considered.