Free Adduné - the Vampire's Game by Wendy Potocki Page A

brought on by a silly, stupid show on the telly. A person couldn’t help their dreams – nor could they be held responsible.
     
    Reginald would make sure to communicate that to Figgs, but right now there was a ravenous girl – and some delicious stew that needed plating
     
    .
     

CHAPTER 4
     
     
     
    Reginald was more than happy that lunch went smoothly. The only exception was Miranda never letting up on the fact that Reginald had lied to her. He was more than willing to take the punishment she meted out as Miranda was behaving like her old self and not some frightened child. She was intact, as was her hubris and sense of invincibility. For the moment, Reginald was not seeing that as a negative. He was just glad that whatever damage he’d done had become officially undone. It was the old Miranda that he shared lunch with. He’d never welcomed a luncheon guest more warmly.
     
    Soon after, they resumed the business of cataloguing. It required a trip downstairs – to the room that was the source of Figgs’ nightmares. Although Reginald adopted a plausible, reasonable explanation for their inception, he was skittish about bringing Miranda downstairs. While the dreams didn’t present a problem, a possible intruder did. It just might be an uninvited guest that had been helping himself to hospitality that had never been extended. Miranda immediately picked up on Reginald’s reticence, but then not very much got past her. However, this time she’d misread the clues. She misinterpreted his trepidation as fear and taken the occasion to relentlessly taunt him by asking the question, “Who’s the scaredy-cat now?” He let it go at that, feeling no compulsion to fill her in on his real motivation.
     
    Reginald played the part of gracious loser. Miranda would be none the wiser. He was confident that when his courtroom persona was in place, that nobody but God himself could see through it. While Miranda often saw herself that way, she wasn’t close. If she had been all-powerful and all-seeing, then she would have seen through his performance. Instead, the untamable, slightly arrogant young girl took another jab at Reginald. He did nothing but smile sheepishly. He would not give away his ulterior motives and alarm her more than he’d done already.
     
    They headed to the staircase – Miranda gladly skewering the strangely passive Reginald every chance she got. She was expecting more of a fight, but was glad that he was accepting of her abuse. She didn’t question his behavior, putting it down to him knowing that he more than deserved the onslaught.
     
    Miranda followed Reginald through the thick door, noting with annoyance its mournful admonishment of the pair using it for access. The sound was more analogous to the final groan of a long-suffering patient. It harkened back to haunted houses and ghosts – the very thoughts that Miranda had recently banished from her mind. The sorrowful note was dredging up those fears. She could well imagine the next noise to be chains being dragged along the ground, or a knight still in his coat of armor batting the wall with his mace.
     
    When the door finally shuddered closed, it spitefully took the light with it. Reginald turned on a small comforting light that shone down on stone steps. Reginald went first, taking inordinate care in navigating the old staircase. Miranda noted the precautions taken to ensure a safe journey down. She was well past the age when a spill down the stairs on her backside could be shaken off with childish laughter.
     
    She wasn’t used to conforming to someone’s lead, but the unevenness of the footing, the looseness of the stone, and the shaking banister all assured Miranda that Reginald knew best. She complied and followed suit, slowing her pace to a crawl as she inched her way down the clumsy, claustrophobic passageway.
     
    Miranda rocked a bit with each footstep. Although the stairs appeared uniform, it wasn’t until you tried to descend them