Page 5 of Trapped By Vengeance
Our loss. What I’ve done. But neither are worth repeating.
I raise an eyebrow. “If you don’t go to sleep soon, the spirit of a vampiric estrie will float through the wall and drink both your blood and your memories.”
“Boring.”
“But true.”
Eloise’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yep.” I push myself up the cot to the straw pillow. “Now get some sleep, Eloise. We have a kidnapping in the morning.”
Chapter Three
Valda
I’ve never had any trouble getting a read on a man before. Even if I couldn’t smell the essences of the spirit, the male mind isn’t the most complicated puzzle in the world. But Konrad is truly something else.
No man has ever rejected my kiss before. And it simply won’t do to start now.
After all, even among my own kind, I do not know any others with the ability to make men practically thralls for a short time with just a kiss. Granted, it is stronger when they are the ones who initiate the kiss. But after as much as Konrad and I embraced, he should have been ready to sit as still as a statue in my closet all night long until I was ready to deal with him on the morrow.
I’m supposed to be the one drivinghimmad, not vice versa!
This is no longer about doing as my father asked; it is now a matter of pride. HowdareKonrad have the audacity to not worship me?
Standing in front of my mirror, I sweep most of my hair into the appropriate pleated braid around my head. But I let far more tendrils flow free than is considered demure.
But I don’t have a demure bone in my body. If a man falls for my ploy, that is entirely on him. If the free-flowing hair doesn’t give me away, then the coral red gown should have.
I dab on far more perfume than most women have to put up with, a cloud of bleeding heart surrounding me. Then I slide the glass vial down the front of my bodice because I can’t dare to be parted from it when I’m in the company of a man who could smell death on me if I miss an application.
Next, I slide my demure black dagger into my garter sheath, because it’s always good to be prepared. Then I paste a smile onto my rouged lips— my true weapon— and step into the hallway.
Konrad isn’t waiting for me just outside, which does not bode well. He was clearly not unaffected by my attentions last night, but there is a strong sense of control about him.
It will be a delight to make him lose that control.
Lifting my skirts so my boots won’t snag on them, I stride down the stairs.
A familiar silence falls when I enter the tavern as people pause their conversations and meals to turn to me. I pretend to notice none of it and glide across the room to the bar.
A man with dirty-blonde hair pulled back by a leather band that a valet obviously didn’t assist him with is sitting with his broad-shouldered back to me. A wisp of a girl-child sits beside him, attempting to mimic his pose.
That must be his companion. Not competition at all, then— just a complication I didn’t see coming.
The tavern is filled with smells of ale and unwashed men, but using my more-than-mortal senses, I can still lock onto the scents of Konrad’s spirit. Just like last night, a heavy cloud of grief surround him, along with a sharp spike of guilt. The heady desire I summoned isn’t as strong, but I can still sense a tinge.
He’ll be quite pleased to see me, even if he’ll hate it.
Smiling, I stride across the tavern and sit on the stool on his other side. “Good morn.”
To his credit, Konrad doesn’t startle. Instead, he casually turns to me, a small smile on his face. His gaze falls on my favorite hair ribbon, and I wonder if he recognizes it from last night, even though I’ve put on a fresh new gown. “Good morn, Lady Valda.”
“Please . . .” I place a gloved hand on his. “Titles hardly have a place between us after last night.”
Konrad clears his throat awkwardly and then leans back to reveal the young girl sitting on his other side. “Valda, this is Eloise, my . . . daughter.”
I have been trained by the best tutors to keep my expressions in check. However, their training betrays me, and my eyebrows climb to my temples. I was not expecting that.