Bayou Moon - Andrews, Ilona [90]
“Water, valerian, and a very strong hypnotic. You have about five minutes to get to your room and shower, or you’ll pass out where you stand.”
“Ignata!”
“Ignata-Ignata-Ignata!” Ignata waved her arms. “When was the last time you ate or slept? What, nothing to say? You have tonight to sleep, tomorrow to rest, and the day after tomorrow you’re going to take our posse to the Sheeriles, and after that, I won’t have time for you. I’ll be busy patching up everybody else. So you just go on! Shoo! And take your blueblood with you.” She pointed a long finger at William. “You, walk with her and make sure she doesn’t pass out someplace on the stairs.”
Cerise sighed and headed up the stairs. William followed her.
“She’s mad,” he said.
“No, she is trying to keep it together and not cry. Her mother and brother could’ve died. There isn’t much she can do, so she’s bossing me around.”
He frowned. “You mean, in revenge?”
“A little, yes. My father used to tell me, ‘When you’re in charge, everything is your fault.’ She blames me a little.” Her feet grew heavier with each step, as if someone slowly poured lead into her bones. “She’d never admit it even to herself, but she blames me.”
“So that’s what it’s like to have a large family,” he said.
Now her head grew too heavy. Her eyelids tried to close on their own. She stopped by the door to her room. “Something like that. You haven’t seen the worst of it. Did they give you a room?”
William bared his teeth. “Yes. Kaldar showed it to me.”
He said Kaldar’s name like he wanted to strangle him.
“I’m not mad at you about the worms,” she told him, trying to force her thoughts into a coherent pattern. She yawned. “I’m sorry, I’m very sleepy.”
“That’s okay,” he said. He was standing a little too close.
“What kind of blueblood says okay, Lord Bill? You need to work on your cover some more.” She yawned. “You would make a horrible spy. Promise me that while I’m asleep, you won’t injure any of my cousins, not even Kaldar.”
William looked at her.
“I’m exhausted and miserable. Promise me. No snapping people’s heads off their necks, no broken bones, nothing to make me regret taking you to my family.”
“You got it,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“The little girl says there is a monster in the woods,” he said.
Something lurched in her chest. “It’s her.”
William was looking at her.
“It’s Lark,” she said, her chest hurting. “She thinks she’s the monster.”
William’s arms closed about her. She should’ve said something. She should have pushed him away. But she felt so tired and so down, and his arms were strong and comforting. He held her to him, and the dull ache gnawing at her receded. It felt so nice, that she just leaned against him. He dipped his head. She watched him do it but didn’t realize why he was doing it until his lips grazed her mouth.
“Sleep well,” he said. “I’ll watch your family for you.”
He let her go.
Cerise closed the door and stared at it for a long moment, unsure if they had really touched or if she had imagined it. She got nowhere and sat on her bed to pull off her boots. She got the left one off, and then the bed turned upside down and fell on the back of her head.
WILLIAM awoke to the darkened bedroom. The air was cool and a narrow sliver of moonlight sliced through the draperies to fall at the floor. For a moment he lay still, looking at the ceiling, his arms behind his head.
He’d kissed Cerise and she let him. His memory had preserved the moment with near perfect recall. He remembered everything: the tilt of her face, the angle of her hair, the puzzlement in her dark eyes, the feeling of holding her against him, the delicate trace of her scent on his lips. He would kiss her again, even if her entire family lined up to shoot him while he did it.
William rolled off the bed, moving on quiet feet, and tried the door handle. Still locked. They had shut him in like he was a child.
He smiled, pulled open his backpack, and fished out the night suit. He stripped and pulled on the pants and the shirt. The fabric, stained with dark and light