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Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

Page 8

by Laurie D'Ghent


  Є

  I'm getting way too close to making a habit of this, Integrity thought, but she peered out of her room, anyway. Who would come here and knock? Paul was the only one who ever came. If he knocked, it was a soft, short, courtesy thing, not the loud, insistent rapping that had drawn her to her doorway.

  Before she could get a good look, Paul and Bowman bolted down the hallway toward her and rushed her back into her room, shutting the door firmly behind them. “What--” she started to ask, but Bowman clamped a hand over her mouth and Paul gestured, pleadingly, for her to be silent. Not that I have a choice. Does Bowman have to suffocate me? She grew still and compliant, hoping Bowman would remove his hand. He did so, cautiously. Integrity wanted to roll her eyes, but was worried he'd slap his paw over her face again. She glanced down. At least his hands are clean. The sound of several voices interrupted her train of thought and she edged nearer to the door, the better to hear. Paul and Bowman blocked her way. She waved her hands at them, hoping they understood she wasn't trying to leave.

  A man's voice, one she didn't recognize, a great amount of stress evident in his tones, had quit speaking, and a woman's voice had started. She barked, “Leave us,” then her tone did a 180 and she sounded sweeter than Karo syrup. Unable to hear more than one or two disconnected words, Integrity glanced at the two guards. Seeing that they were both listening as intently as she was, she snorted. Instantly, both men spun on her and Bowman's hand was over her mouth once more, Paul hissing his displeasure. She tugged fruitlessly at Bowman's hand.

  The sound of people nearing distracted the group. Integrity managed to drag Bowman's hand away from her mouth as they leaned toward the door, straining their ears. The woman murmured something, and Evan responded. Integrity felt her stomach clench, but she couldn't make herself stop listening. Who had come to see Evan? And why had he let her in?

  Integrity heard the door across the hall, the door that led to Evan's room, open and close. After a moment, the door opened once more and the pair moved back toward the sitting room. Apparently, the woman was upset about something, because she spat out, impatiently, “Evan!” before hurrying down the hall after him.

  If Integrity thought her stomach was crumpled up before, she knew she was wrong—her stomach could have fit inside a teacup and only filled it halfway. She knew that voice. She remembered the woman, though she had tried to forget her. Integrity took a step back from the door, but she heard the outer door slam, clearly. The two guards turned to face her once more. She sat on the edge of her bed, struggling to appear calm.

  “Wonder what that was all about?” said Bowman rhetorically. “Guess we should have seen this coming, what with everyone knowing Evan's 'back' again. Still.”

  “At least we weren't noticed,” Paul rejoined. “Who do you think it was?”

  Integrity swallowed, glanced away. “Jydda. That was Jydda.”

  Understanding showed on Paul's face. “I knew the voice was familiar! It's a very good thing we weren't caught.” He shuddered, half in joke. “Jydda's the last one that needs to know we're here with Evan. Who knows what she might do?”

  Memories erratically before Integrity's eyes: Jydda teasing her mercilessly at the ball. Jydda encased in black leather, waiting to pounce. Jydda, beating Integrity, kicking her, laughing as she effortlessly proved her superiority.

  No, we don't know what she might do if she knew I was here.

  Є

  Evan, now “returned” to Westmarch, stayed away for one day, then another, then another. Integrity found her level of contentment and, yes, even happiness, increasing. There were even times she thought of him in passing without feeling the intense hate that normally accompanied his name. It's much easier to be forgiving when the dinkus isn't here.

  Paul had given her a tour of Evan's quarters, but it had been fairly cursory. Integrity had no desire to do more than glance into the two additional bedrooms Paul revealed, and she didn't dare enter Evan's study—it felt far too invasive and personal to poke around such a private space, as though she were pawing through his underwear drawer. I wonder why he doesn't spend more time in there? Why hang out in the main room so much? Although she didn't feel such intense hate anymore, she still didn't like the man. And I never will. He probably sits out there so I'm stuck in my room all the time. Jerk.

  It irked her, too, that Paul had put her in the room right across from Evan's when there were two others that were much more distant. She briefly considered asking to be moved to a more remote room, but decided swiftly that doing so would give Evan unwarranted pleasure, knowing that she found proximity with him uncomfortable. Better to stay put and irk him right back, she decided.

  Enjoying her freedom in Evan's absence, Integrity went to the kitchen that Paul had shown her earlier. Quickly bored, she exited, then turned to the left to continue down the hall. Suddenly, Paul was blocking her path, seeming to appear from nowhere. “Oh, there's nothing down there,”

  Still laughing, she said, “Yeah, there is, there's a door right there.” She pointed past him, having to lean to one side to do so. She stepped to the side, meaning to move past him, but he blocked her once again. She looked at him questioningly, her laughter fading away.

  Obviously uncomfortable, Paul cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It's probably best if you don't go down there.” He cleared his throat again.

  “Why?” She wrinkled her eyebrows, confused. He was so eager to show me around, before. What could be worse than the bags of blood I found in the fridge?

  “Just trust me?” He was almost pleading with her. Shrugging, she turned back the other way. As they walked to the main room, gloriously empty, now, she plotted in her mind the best way to sneak back to that room. Life might not be nearly so tedious now, she thought, with a small glimmer of hope. Mysteries are meant to be solved, right?

  CHAPTER NINE

  When Evan returned, after more than a week, by Integrity's calculations, she felt her heart seize up. Putting forth the effort to develop a relationship with God had made her decide that she had to quit hating Evan, no matter how hard that was. Unfortunately, it was much easier to do when he was not present. She thought she had made progress, although the most she could say was that she felt nothing more than apathy toward him, but she'd obviously been fooling herself.

  Her heart clenched for another reason, however. Directly behind the man that had made her an orphan came Galia, her classic, quiet smile firmly in place. A few moments of whispered conversation revealed that Evan had replaced his previous housekeeper with Galia. “He said he is tired of being inconvenienced and wants someone to tidy up again. I was the only option,” Galia whispered, the two girls heading down the hallway toward Integrity's room.

  “Evan actually requested you?” Integrity asked in shock.

  “Oh, no, the queen made that decision. Evan merely requested that housekeeping services resume since his presence at Westmarch has been revealed.” In typical Galia fashion, she moved to the tall table where Integrity usually ate her meals, pulled a soft cloth from her trusty box of supplies, and swiped it across the surface, removing a fine sheen of dust. The revealed wood gleamed.

  “You don't have to do that, you know.” Integrity felt foolish watching Galia clean up the slight mess and disorder that she should have taken care of herself. It was another reminder that they were different, though Integrity still didn't quite understand whether her supposed identity as the Destine was a good thing or a bad thing. I'll never really know until I understand what the flipping Destine is, she grumbled in her head.

  Galia flashed Integrity an easy smile. “It is my job, miss.” Integrity could hear the teasing hidden in Galia's flowing voice. Integrity couldn't help but smile. Everything else in her world may have shifted drastically, but Galia still knew she hated to be called “miss” and was quick to tease her gently about it.

  “Well, my lady,” Integrity returned, curtsying deeply, “please don't let me hinder you.”
In direct contrast with her words, Integrity moved and picked up some stray pieces of laundry she had tossed into one corner, then stood holding them awkwardly, not knowing where to put them.

  “Set them there,” Galia said, pointing to the bed. Integrity did, then helped the maid gather up the bedding around it. “I'll bring you fresh bedding as soon as--” she hesitated, smiling wickedly, “humanly possible.”

  “You mean I have to wait that long?” Integrity said with mock impatience. “I thought we were above and beyond that.” She sniffed snootily.

  Her thoughts drifting back to Evan's return, she dropped the sarcastic facade. “Ugh. It was so nice without him here.” She fell into the armchair that still sat next to her nightstand. Always the delicate one, Galia merely smiled in recognition of Integrity's comment. “I guess I'll have to deal with it. In all fairness, he really doesn't hassle me that much.”

  “I'm not sure that qualifies as a kind statement.” Galia moved into Integrity's private bath and continued speaking through the open door. “Is that the best you can say of your host? That he doesn't 'hassle' you?”

  Integrity snorted. “Have you met the man? He's not exactly welcoming.” As the conversation lapsed, Integrity felt a pang of conscience. She had decided to really try to take the high road, to not hold a grudge against Evan. How much could she really expect of him? Yes, he'd killed her parents, and he'd seemed to enjoy it, but he was a vampire. Standard rules of etiquette didn't really apply in this situation.

  The only way I'm going to get over this is to not speak ill of him, she thought grumpily. After all, thoughts preclude actions, so if I control my actions, maybe, in a million years, I'll be able to control my thoughts. She shook her head, not believing her in her plan. Getting over someone murdering your parents, whether or not the action was justified or considered “acceptable,” was not easy.

  Shoving the unpleasant thoughts aside, Integrity focused on Galia as she exited the bathroom, snapping off the light in the process. “If you keep your space this tidy, Evan might find he doesn't require my services.” Galia frowned in mock worry. “I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to be a bit of a nuisance from now on.”

  Integrity laughed. “I'll get right on that. In fact, maybe I'll start with Evan room...” She waggled her eyebrows evilly.

  Moving to her cleaning tote, Galia dropped her items back inside and hefted it once more. She clicked her tongue. “I cannot say I think that would be a wise course of action. You might find your host has a great deal more time to harass you than you originally thought.” Setting the tote on the far nightstand, Galia queried, “May I leave this here for a moment, while I retrieve fresh bedding for you?”

  “Sure,” Integrity said, watching Galia gather the massive wad of bedding into her arms. Integrity stood, then felt helpless. “I wish I could help you carry that. Even laundry detail is better than being locked in here all the time.”

  Galia gave her a sympathetic smile, then dropped a curtsy out of habit and murmured, “I shall return shortly.” She somehow managed to close Integrity's door behind her, and Integrity sank back into the armchair, eager for Galia to return.

  Є

  Galia had explained to Integrity that she couldn't spend any time with her beyond when she was cleaning, due to how it would look for her to spend hours in Evan's quarters, but that didn't help when Integrity felt this bored. Paul was nice in his own way, but, for the same reason that Galia could not linger, he wasn't eager to spend copious amounts of time with Integrity in her bedroom. She wanted to argue with him about it, but she could foresee how uncomfortable that conversation would be, so she let it slide.

  Being in her room round the clock hadn't been pleasant before Evan had left, but now it was unbearable. She knew what it was like to feel free to roam the apartment, but she didn't dare to do it anymore. Each time she thought of going to the kitchen or weight room, she worried that Evan would already be there. She knew he was too arrogant to leave, and she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of doing it herself.

  She imagined different confrontations she could have with him, all of which she carried out with poise and aplomb, but she knew if she went into a room he already occupied, she'd just sit there silently until she felt like she'd explode in every direction; then she'd make some lame excuse that he couldn't care less about, and she'd scurry back to her room like a mouse to its hole.

  She was too antsy to sit and read, and she knew it, but she tried anyway. When she'd read the same paragraph six times and still had no idea what it said, she slammed the book shut and dropped it on one nightstand in disgust. She'd have to risk leaving her room, and she did not relish the thought.

  She wasn't hungry, so there was no point in going to the kitchen. That left the spare bedrooms, which would be no better than her own, the weight room, and the main sitting room. The way I'm feeling, I might brain him if I have a weight in my hand. Taking a fortifying breath, she opened her door and moved steadily into the sitting room. Great. He's here. My one hope had been that I'd be here first, and he'd be the one that hesitated. Yeah, right.

  Careful not to move stiffly, she walked into the room and sat. She forced herself to tuck one foot beneath herself, knowing that doing so was a sign of being comfortable. Evan sat in a chair to her right, book in one hand, the other, still encased in its brace, resting on Kellin's head. The dog panted happily—she could smell his breath from across the room. Unwilling to let Evan continue to ignore her existence, she said, “Why does that dog love you so much?” She wanted to add a biting remark, something about Evan being evil personified and, therefore, the antithesis of Kellin himself, but she bit her tongue and waited for his response. She hoped that Kellin would move toward her once she'd spoken, but he seemed fully content to stay at Evan's side.

  Book held in the air before him, Evan looked over it at her, impatience in his gaze, then returned his eyes to the words in front of him before speaking. “Are all mortals so prone to exaggeration? It's quite irritating, you know.” He turned the page, returned his braced hand to the dog, and his eyes began tracking back and forth, following the lines.

  She felt her heart leap forward, eager to attack back, but she reigned it in. If he can sound so unconcerned, so can I. “What makes you think I'm exaggerating? He does love you.”

  Evan snorted, his eyes still following the lines of his book. She wondered if he really was reading, if he had the capability to read a story and carry on a conversation at the same time. “Love is an exaggeration in itself. For the dog to love me is even more ludicrous.” He pulled his hand back from Kellin's head, resting it on the arm of the chair. Integrity smiled inside; she'd made him react, for once.

  “I know it's hard to believe that anyone could love you, but Kellin loves everyone. Don't take it too personally.” She kept her tone light, bantering, but she meant the words in all truthfulness, and she suspected Evan knew so.

  Evan remained silent for a moment, continuing to read, then said, “Love does not exist. It's every bit as much a fairy tale as knights on white horses and women with hair long enough to climb.”

  “Sounds like the words of someone who always gets shut down,” she said disinterestedly, digging something dark from under one of her fingernails.

  Once again, Evan snorted. He looked at her once more. “Isn't this where you say something about how no one in their right mind would be seen with me? Save the soap opera for weekday mornings, Integrity.”

  It was strange to hear her name on his lips. She tried to recall if he had ever said it before, but she couldn't be sure. It made her feel as though she'd walked into a glass door she had thought was open. She was struggling to come up with a reply when Paul spoke from behind her. She jerked her gaze away from Evan's mouth.

  “Mortals really believe in love?” The scorn was evident in his voice, though Integrity knew it was not directed at her, but rather at the place she had come from. “You actually drink milk,” it was clear he found this disgusting, “you belie
ve in love. What next? The tooth fairy?”

  Relieved to have Paul in the room, Integrity looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. “Yes, I'm afraid the idiotic mortals believe in those things, though it's usually only the children that hold on to the tooth fairy.” Reflecting, she said, “Though, that might be because adults don't generally loose teeth.” Eager to show Evan that he couldn't deter her, she turned back to him and said, “So it's not just you that doesn't believe in love?”

  Obviously put out, Evan closed his book with a thump. Kellin, startled, moved away. Paul called to him in a low voice, and he moved to the guard, wagging his tail slowly. “Are you going to tell me that your parents were in love? That they married and had you because they couldn't bear to be apart?” He said it as though she were going to tell him that she had once been a man and had flown to the moon, to boot.

  “Yes, my parents were in love. In fact, they still are. Even you can't stop that.” She heard steel creeping into her voice, and forced herself to relax in her chair and brush her hair laconically away from her face. “I suppose I shouldn't expect you to understand. You were not born, you were merely created by someone who didn't do a proper job of killing you.”

  Sighing, Evan stood slowly. “You really understand nothing, do you?” As he walked from the room, out into the hallway that Integrity so craved to walk in, he muttered, “I find you so tedious.” He closed the door behind him calmly, and left Integrity fuming in the room behind him.

  Why can't I make an exit like that?

  Є

  Integrity was once again enjoying the respite she received from Evan's absence. She felt entirely at her leisure to spend her time where and how she chose, almost as though she were the mistress of the rooms rather than the unwanted guest. Galia's daily visits, to “tidy the rooms,” became a part of her routine, and Galia began to accept Integrity's help, though she was careful to stay no longer than if she had done the work herself. She confessed to Integrity that the man who had formerly cared for Evan's rooms had expressed great displeasure at his displacement, suggesting that Galia had taken his place over for less than innocent reasons. “I certainly wish to give him no further reason to think so,” she had told Integrity, her voice showing her strain, though only slightly. Integrity was intrigued that a vampire, even a slave, would have such high standards for him- or herself. Then again, it is Galia, she mused. It could very well be a fluke that's unique to her. She almost laughed aloud. I'm sure as heck not gonna ask Paul. I can just imagine how awkward that conversation would be!

 

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