Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Everything about her made him think she was an old-fashioned Merchant Ivory kind of girl.
“I’m afraid I’m not dressed properly,” she said as she swept her graying hair back and tucked it in at her nape. Like she was hoping her sweater’s collar would hold the makeshift bun.
“There’s no need to worry. We weren’t expected, and even if we were, this is your home.“
“I was going to call you, actually.”
As he sat down on one of the couches, he set his butt on the very edge of the cushion. In his black leather-and-dagger duds, he felt like an ink spot ruining a nice tablecloth. Meanwhile, Qhuinn stayed by the door, as if he recognized his presence was overwhelming to her.
The maid did not sit down. At least not until Tohr indicated the armchair across from him—and as she finally took a seat in her own place, he gave her a gentle smile. Yup, she was one of the traditional types who were in the New World, but still living the way things had been done in the Old Country, and he wondered if Broadius had ever appreciated the graciousness.
Thinking about all the gaudy in that house, he doubted it.
While she twisted her hands in her lap, he said, “How are you doing after last night?”
“My daughter is coming up from Philadelphia to stay for a week.” Petrie pointed toward her little kitchen. “That’s her favorite Last Meal on the stove. It’s just beef and potatoes and carrots, but young have their comfort foods—I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I’ve never had members of the Black Dagger Brotherhood in my home before.”
As she looked down at her hands, Tohr took out his phone. “You said you were going to call us?”
“Well, I thought of something.” She stared off into the middle distance between them. “But maybe it’s nothing.”
“Tell us. You never know?”
When she just sat there, worrying her lip, Qhuinn crossed over and sat at the other end of the sofa. Another ink spot. “That’s my son’s favorite meal, too.”
“I’m sorry?” she said, as she returned from wherever she’d been in her head.
“Beef stew.” Qhuinn flared his nostrils on an inhale. “It smells fantastic—and it makes me think of him.”
“Really?”
The brother nodded. “When he was little, he was a picky eater—and it lasted right up to his transition, actually. Sometimes stew was the only thing we could get him to eat.”
Her body relaxed a little and she crossed her ankles, tucking them into the kick pleat of the chair. “Well, I can give you what I’ve made. It would be an honor.”
“Oh, you keep that for your daughter.” Qhuinn smiled. “But I think I’ll have my mate’s mahmen whip some up. No one beats granmahmen’s cooking, even though my son’s a grown male.”
“How old is he?”
“Rhamp is ten years out of his transition—and I can’t believe I’m saying that. I had him and his sister young myself. And yes, they’re twins.”
“You have twins?” Petrie put her hand on her collarbone with a rush of surprise. “My sister and I are twins.”
“No kidding! Identical?”
“No, but we do look so much alike and we’re so close. She lives next door.”
“That’s really cool.” Qhuinn laughed. “I bet your sis has been over here a lot in the last twenty-four hours. My two kids are inseparable—especially when times are . . . stressful.”
The maid took a deep breath, but not like she was bracing herself. “Anna stayed with me all day long. And she’s coming back after she gets off her shift. I . . . don’t have work right now.”
As the female’s face tightened, Qhuinn leaned forward onto his knees. “You know, we’d be happy to talk to some people. We have a lot of contact with folks, and if you’re concerned about . . . things like that . . . we’ll put a word in. Won’t we.”
Tohr nodded immediately. “Absolutely.”
“I have some savings.” She retwisted her hair. “But I am worried about the future. I’m just feeling a little ragged. I’m not sure I trust my composure, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Qhuinn said. “And it’ll get easier, I promise. You’ll never forget what you saw, I’m not going to lie. It’ll get draped over by other, more normal things, though.”
“Really?”
“Is your daughter mated?”
The maid blinked as if she were surprised at the subject change. “Ah, no. She isn’t. But she’s dating a very nice male. I think things are headed in that direction—and he lives in Caldwell, so she’d come back here. I’d love that. My hellren passed seven years ago.”
“I’m really sorry.” Qhuinn nodded gravely. Then he shook his head in a wry way. “I don’t know if either of my kids will ever get mated.”
“No?”
“My son works hard, but he’s always at the clubs with his friends. My daughter . . . well, she’s a free spirit. I don’t know who’s ever going to tie her down. He’d have to be a helluva male.”