Page 12 of Night Prey
The door opens just a fraction, and Igor’s dirty-blond head pops in. “Hello, Sophie. Your father has sent for you.”
I jump off the bed. “Oh, good. I want to talk to him.”
Igor’s eyes widen. “You can’t go out like that.”
I glance at my nightgown. “I have no other clothes.”
He walks in and goes straight to my wardrobe. “What’s this, then?”
“That’s an aberration and not much different than what Sophie has on,” Tish retorts.
“Hey, I bought that!”
“Why am I not surprised?” Tish licks her paws.
Igor tries to level her with a glare, but she pays him no attention. He then looks at me, his icy blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Your father won’t like it if you parade around showing off so much skin.”
“He should have provided me with more clothes. Besides, no one will dare glance in my direction with you by my side.”
He sighs, his gaze softening. “Fine. Come on, then.”
I pick Tish up and follow him out the door. She doesn’t like to be carried, but she knows I need to use her as a shield. I’m anxious about this meeting. I barely had time to ask Father questions when I woke up. This new world is so strange. And I haven’t seen any of my father’s acolytes either. They weren’t a fun bunch. Most of them are overzealous, condescending fools who believe females are only good for breeding. Since vampires haven’t been able to procreate since the Nightingales left the human world, our role is now diminished to nothing in their twisted views. It’s pretty ironic considering they must obey a queen.
This house is large but modest compared to our old mansion in the heart of London. We used to have priceless pieces of art and furniture made by the most talented craftsmen, but I suppose much of our fortune was lost when our ship sank.
Igor stops in front of a solid wood door and knocks. “It’s Igor with Miss Sophie.”
“You may enter,” my father replies.
This isn’t a room for meetings, as I feared, but a study, and the only person inside is Father. I let out a relieved breath. I won’t have to deal with his sycophant followers yet. I wonder how many of them are still alive.
I hope they’re all dead.
Such traitorous thoughts, Sophie.I almost laugh out loud, but that wouldn’t go well.
“What in the world are you wearing?” Father asks.
“A dress.” I feign surprise, then quickly glance at Igor and get blasted by his “I told you so” look.
“Don’t take me for an idiot. I may not know women’s fashions, but that isn’t a dress.”
“She had nothing else to wear,” Tish chimes in.
My father turns his irate glance to Igor. “I thought I told you to procure clothing for Sophie.”
Igor rubs the back of his neck. “I tried to find something similar to what she used to wear before, and that’s all they had.”
“Only if she worked in a brothel,” Tish mutters.
“Tish!” I blurt out.
Igor’s face turns beet red, and my father scowls. This meeting is not going well. I have to intervene before Igor and Tish get into more trouble.
“I want to buy my own clothes,” I say.
Father aims his hard stare at me. “That’s out of the question. It isn’t safe.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m more than capable of handling myself. Besides, I thought you wanted me to get close to Lucca Della Morte. How am I supposed to do that if I’m not allowed to leave the house?”
