Free Master of the Shadows by Lynn Viehl Page A

had seen to that, she checked the hall and then left the workrooms. The timing of the Italians’ arrival could not have worked out better for her; all she needed to do now was conceal herself in the lord’s chamber and wait for him to come to her.
    Robin of Locksley occupied the largest suite of rooms at Rosethorn, but the furnishings were unexpectedly plain and the decor uncluttered. A great many plants and small trees had been brought in, enough to make a visitor mistake the chamber for a tidy greenhouse. Among the beauties of nature Reese noted a number of incredibly old artworks, carvings, and tapestries, all dating back to the time when Locksley had been human. He could not return to that forgotten world, Reese thought, but he surrounded himself with constant reminders of it.
    She opened a door to another set of rooms, smaller and much less cluttered, and switched on the lights. She knew they belonged to Will from his scent, as dark and rich as bittersweet chocolate, which still lingered in the air.
    Instead of the expected red, Robin’s seneschal had chosen the blue of ice crystals, the paleness of cream, and a blue-tinged onyx for his colors. Shades of winter, she thought as she wandered about, touching the surface of the old black oak desk where he had neatly sorted piles of estate paperwork and letters.
    She picked up a pretty fountain pen, the barrel made of an ivory-streaked dark blue, and removed the end cap. He’d used it so often that he’d worn down one side of the golden nib. “Who taught you to write?” she asked under her breath.
    Silence gave her no answer.
    She replaced the pen where she had found it, and glanced over at the bed. It was large and placed close to the fire, and she could almost see him sleeping there, warm and safe, dreaming of some adventure with Robin, smiling a little as he remembered those happy times.
    Did he ever dream of the nights in Aubury? she wondered. Or had he forgotten?
    Her pocket buzzed against her hip, making her jump. With a shaking hand she took out her phone, expecting to see her father’s number on the screen.
    But no, it was her Lover boy.
    She stared at it for a long moment, and then flipped it open. “Hello, Will.”
    “You are doubtless furious for being made to leave the house,” he said, all in a rush, “but let me explain.”
    “You don’t have to,” she assured him. “I know the protocol involved with visiting Kyn. Get all the un pledged mortals out of the house, and then break out the bagged blood.”
    “You sound hoarse. Are you ill?”
    “My throat is a little sore.” She looked around her. “I had thought you’d do your rooms in red.”
    “You’ve been to my chamber?”
    I’m standing in them right now. “Rebecca was kind enough to show them to me. You need a new fountain pen.”
    He chuckled. “A pity you cannot sneak back into Rosethorn tonight. I would very much like to see you in my rooms.”
    “I haven’t left the house yet. Maybe…Hold on.” Reese heard shouts from the hallway and crossed the room to listen at the door. She opened it a bare inch to peer outside, and saw one of the guards collapse a few feet away. The dark-haired warrior standing over him held a dart gun, and paused long enough to reload it with two cartridges filled with blue liquid before hurrying off.
    “Reese?”
    “I thought I heard something.” Reese carefully closed the door and ran for the bag she had left on the desk. She searched through it until she found the small cigarette case at the bottom. Her hands shook as she opened it.
    “You cannot stay at Rosethorn,” Will said. “Come to the gallery show. I’ll ask Rob to give me a few hours for myself. We can go dancing.”
    She removed one of the thin glass vials from the case. “I don’t think I can do that, Will.”
    “Why not? With the Italians there, you cannot stay to do your work. What else have you to do but sleep?”
    She didn’t answer him until she had swallowed the contents of