The Den of Shadows Quartet - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [132]
The second floor had held an office, a desk with drawers that were always locked, the dining room, and the library. Catherine had spent hours reading history, which was a subject on which Lord Daryl had numerous books. She ate alone. Lord Daryl’s slaves, even when serving her meals, were silent. Unless Lord Daryl spoke to her, Catherine heard no voice, no sound at all.
The first floor had been one large, elegant ballroom, complete with grand piano, polished dance floor, and a chandelier Catherine never saw lit. Lord Daryl was possessive and paranoid, and kept her away from the rest of his kind. When he hosted parties, he invariably locked his pet away in the next room, where she would barely hear music and distant voices.
That room, the little sitting room next to the ballroom, had been Catherine’s sanctuary. The carpet had been soft and black, and the walls had been burgundy so dark that only direct light would make the red visible. The room held a couch and matching love seat covered with black suede. A small bookshelf in the corner held photos of people Catherine did not know, and books in languages she could not read.
Turquoise wrenched her mind away from her past. She glanced at Ravyn, who was lying on her bed and pondering the stucco ceiling, and rejected as impossible the idea of intelligent conversation. Instead, she dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups. Generally, she ran for four miles and then used weights, but this little boxy room wouldn’t allow for that.
She did fifty on her right arm, and was up to thirty-seven on her left when someone knocked on the door.
“It’s Eric. May I come in?”
“Go ahead,” Ravyn called. She jumped down from her bed, commenting to Turquoise, “I’m tired just from watching you.”
“I promised you a tour of the south wing,” Eric reminded them. “I thought you might want to eat first,” he told Ravyn. “Sound fine?”
“Peachy,” Ravyn answered.
Eric seemed unnerved by the bright response, but he did not comment.
He showed them to the kitchens, where the midnight meal was being served. They ate, and Eric introduced Ravyn to the others she would be working with.
Afterward, he briefly showed them the infirmary and the weight room. “Keeps people busy in their down time, and gives them something to do to keep healthy,” Eric explained about this last.
“What’s through there?” Turquoise asked, pointing to a heavy oaken door in the interior wall that seemed out of place.
“Courtyard. It’s off-limits. The door’s locked anyway” Eric explained briskly.
If a door is locked, you’re not welcome, Jaguar had said. Instantly, this courtyard interested Turquoise. “What’s in there?”
Eric shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Jaguar about that. Speaking of,” he continued, changing the subject, “if you can find Jaguar sometime before you turn in, ask him if I’m allowed to bring you outside. Probably not, but that’s where I really need the most help. Otherwise, you’ll either be cleaning or bloodletting, whichever you prefer.” The boy’s tone made it clear he’d have no respect for her if she took the second choice.
They split up. Ravyn returned to the kitchens to learn the ropes, Eric disappeared into his room, and Turquoise sought out Katie. She gave the woman her measurements, and was rewarded with the necessities of life: three full outfits, as well as a toothbrush, hairbrush, soap, washcloth, and two towels.
Next, Turquoise went looking for Jaguar. If all went well, she’d find him quickly and ask about going outside. That should grant her enough free time to explore. She wanted to see the western wing, and she wanted to get into the courtyard.
There were two locked doors in the northern wing; the shape-shifter rooms, Eric had said. The inside wall