Inamorata

Chapter I

The monotonous sound of the rain tapping against the glass of the doors and windows of my room continued. The sun was nowhere to be seen. The sky was dark and gloomy, an endless stream of dark clouds slowly rolling by. If it hadn't been for the clock tolling hourly in the room, I would have never known whether it was night or day. It had been raining for a week straight and it didn't look like it was going to let up soon.

I stared at the ceiling not quite sure to do with myself. Michael was attending another meeting with Vittoris' Immediate Council before he met with the Supreme Council that was comprised of Eleven other vampire kingdoms, though ten only held chairs at the moment, for obvious reasons. Binky was busy sleeping, and every time I tried to play with him, he had curled up his upper lip and growled at me, looking pretty menacing for a dog of his small size.

"How are you holding up?" Abbie asked, walking through the door. She balanced what looked like a dozen voluminous gowns. It was both impressive and funny seeing someone as short and petite as Abbie carrying so many dresses. As she spoke to me, her voice was somewhat muffled by the pile of clothing that blocked her face. I got up to help her and grabbed a few dresses off the top of the pile.

"I'm fine," I said, looking at the dresses. "Where should I put these?"

"You didn't have to do that," she sighed, but she jerked her head in the direction of my wardrobe, a sturdy piece of furniture made of dark wood. "Over there, I suppose."

"I want to help," I insisted, walking over to it. I reached out to open the doors but almost toppled over, realizing that my arms were full of dresses. Frowning, I tried to put all of the dresses on my left arm so I could open the doors to the wardrobe with my right. After coming close to dropping all of them, I realized that this would not work, and I returned the dresses to my right arm. I stared at the doors for a while, tracing the intricate scenes carved in the wood with my eyes, trying to figure out what to do. After I could not think of a solution to my problem, I turned around and looked at her, bewildered. "How do you manage to do all this?"

"Years of practice," she laughed, smiling at my efforts. She walked over to where I was and easily threw open the doors to the wardrobe. The dresses didn't so much as twitch and she never teetered. Still amazed, I shook my head at her and hung them up. She had been impressing me a lot lately, but I didn't know whether that was because I was discovering just how much she did in the palace or because I discovered that she was once Damon Percy's giver.

I really wanted to ask her about it and find out why she didn't tell me in the first place. I had tried asking Michael about it, but he had only said that he didn't treat her right and did not tell me anything more. Looking at her smiling face now, so content and pleased with the work she was doing, I didn't want to bring back any bad memories.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, closing the heavy doors as she finished putting things away.

"No reason," I lied quickly. I then realized that she didn't even turn around, so she couldn't have looked at my face. "How did—"

"I could feel your eyes on the back of my head," she said simply, before I could finish asking my question. I tilted my head, cocking my eyebrow at her. Did she know me that well?

She turned around, scanning the room with her eyes, probably assessing what needed to be done. After visually sweeping the walls and floors, her eyes landed on my bed. More specifically, her eyes landed on the dog sleeping in the middle of the bed. She put her hands on her hips.

"That dog," she muttered, "keeps dirtying my sheets."

"He's only sleeping," I protested.

"He can sleep on the floor!" She clapped her hands and walked over to the side of the bed, shaking it so Binky would wake up. "Come on, shoo!" She fanned her hands at him. He lifted his groggy little head, looking at her for a moment. Then, his eyes narrowed and his lips curled upwards as he let out a low snarl.