Episode Twenty-One – Cat and Mouse

     When the Celtic giant with the kilt and red beard pulled the doors shut behind me, I sensed that there was more happening here than I had expected.

     I should have kept my finger on the pulse of the world around me a little longer, but I had grown comfortable writing my little romance stories and living my invented life.

     Too comfortable.

     Merrick stood.

     “I’ve been hearing stories,” he said.

     “Really?” I said. “I like stories, perhaps you’d like to share?”

     Merrick moved to the back of the room and removed a decanter from the credenza along with a few glasses.

     He set one in front of Raven and poured the thick crimson liquid up to the rim.

     Raven smiled and put the glass to her lips.

     Merrick then poured two more glasses, leaving one behind and bringing the other to me.

     “Perhaps story is too strong a word,” he said. “More like whispers.”

     “And what do these whispers say?” I asked, bringing the glass up to my own lips. The blood was rich and clean with an aroma that made my spine tingle.

     “The whispers suggest that there has been deception on your part, that you alone did not go to Damian Plamondon’s room that night, that you alone did not destroy him, and that maybe, just maybe, Damian hasn’t been destroyed at all.”

     “Sounds like some pretty specific whispers,” I said.

     Merrick reclaimed his seat at the head of the table and downed his drink.

     His reflection in the highly polished table moved in unison.

     “What do you say?” Merrick asked, his eyes steady on me.

     “I say it’s ridiculous,” I said.

     Merrick’s brows raised, and a small smile began to form on his lips.

     “You know what Damian was, what he was capable of. Do you think I have him hidden in my bedroom, or no, perhaps he’s vacationing in Italy—he always was fond of their architecture,” I said. “The whispers bear no weight.”

     Raven downed her drink, licking her lips. She seemed to have become bored with the conversation and turned her attention to the large Palladian window and the illuminated grounds of the estate.

     For a queen, she didn’t talk much. I wasn’t sure if that was a relief; my gut told me it wasn’t.

     Raven struck me as more bite than bark.

     “Perhaps,” Merrick continued. “I think for now we will refrain from making any harsh judgments against you, as I said, some clans believe you should be eliminated, that you’re dangerous. Since you are now part of my flock, I feel it’s only right to have you stay a while. Enjoy my home as if it were your own.”

     “And my friends?” I asked.

     “Part of the flock,” Merrick said.

     “And if I refuse?” I asked.

     Merrick’s eyes flashed.

     “Then I can’t guarantee anyone’s survival.”

     I downed my drink. Moving forward, I set the empty crystal glass on the table.

     “Fair enough,” I said. “I accept your—generous offer—for now,” I said.

     Merrick nodded and then slid his hand under the table, summoning the same man who had met us at the door.

     “Please escort Candy Holt back to her room,” Merrick said. “See to any needs that she and her friends might have.”

     The man merely bowed his head.

     Halfway to the door, I stopped and turned.

     “And what of my other friend, Camilla Thornton?” I asked.

     “She should be here within the hour,” Merrick said.

     His eyes were sharp and cunning, and I could feel him watching me. The thought occurred to me that Camilla wasn’t on her way, and that at some point an excuse would be made for her absence.

     I smiled back and left the room without a response, the man pulling the doors closed behind us.

     Halfway up the hall, I turned to him.

     “Merrick said that you would see to my needs,” I said.

     “Of course, Miss Holt, whatever you wish, if it is within my abilities,” he said.

     “Oh, this should be simple enough. I need some food. Like fried chicken and mashed potatoes, maybe even some burgers. I realize this place is a little high-end, but there’s got to be some fast-food joints farther in town.”

     He looked confused.

     “You know, like KFC, or Burger King, hell, I’ll even take McDonald’s at this point,” I said.

     “You eat, Miss Holt?” he said, looking a little green.

     “Of course I do, didn’t everyone at some point?” I asked. “What’s your name?”

     “Ben,” he said.

     “Okay, Ben, you run along and fetch me some takeout, and I’ll see myself to my room,” I said, continuing down the long expanse of hall.

     Ben lingered, making me turn back.

     “Really, anything will do, I promise,” I said. “And if you happen to pass a 7-Eleven or something like it, stop in and grab me some Swedish Fish—their little red gummy candies, just ask the guy behind the counter.”

     I didn’t wait for another reply; instead, I hurried down the passage, checking doors. While I didn’t want to see the guy get into any trouble, I wanted to get a sense of the place and who exactly was there with us.

     Five minutes later, I found myself in the kitchen.

     Stainless steel appliances lined the massive room, all looking as new as the day they were installed. I opened the refrigerators—empty except for a massive supply of what looked to be fresh blood.

     Suddenly, I sensed, more than I heard, someone behind me.

     I turned to find Kendrick standing there, watching me.

     “You’re getting careless,” Kendrick said. “I’ve been watching you for a while.”

     I rolled my eyes.

     “It’s hard to smell you when there are so many others to contaminate the room,” I said. “But you’re right, I am getting careless.”

     “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to that statement than there should be?” Kendrick asked. “What exactly is going on, Candy?”

     “Where’s Patience? Did you leave her alone, or is Sterling watching her?” I asked.

     “She’s fine. Why can’t you just answer the question?” Kendrick asked.

     “Because I’m not entirely sure, not yet anyway,” I said. I watched him where he stood, leaning against one of the sub-zero freezers, arms crossed over his chest, making me lose my train of thought. “What are you doing down here anyway?”

     “I was told to make myself at home, so I am,” he said.

     “I would tell you to be more careful, but I get the feeling Raven has a thing for you. I suspect you could do just about anything before she turned on you,” I said. “But I’ve been wrong before.”

     He moved towards me then, his gaze shifting from curious to something more. He leaned his weight against me, pinning me to the counter.

     “I’m not interested in what Raven wants, only what you want,” he said.

     I wanted to be angry, but I was having trouble with the emotion.

     This was the wrong room, the wrong night, and the worst possible audience.

     “Not now, Kendrick. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re all in a heap of shit right now,” I pushed him away and moved to the doorway. “I need you to focus.”

     His gaze lingered over me.

     “Oh, I’m focused.”

     Suddenly, Sterling was in the doorway, flustered and half-naked.

     “Have either of you seen Patience?”    

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