Marcus glanced uneasily at the others. “Of course you will,” he said with sarcasm.
I stretched out.
“Is this all part of your master plan?” Marcus asked.
“So far, so good.” I ran my fingers through my matted hair and scratched my itchy scalp.
Marcus shook his head. “We’re all going to die.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That’s one option, yes.” I lifted my shirt collar to hide Delacroix’s fang marks, unsure if they’d faded.
Marcus leaned back. “What do they have over you?”
I moved into a more comfortable position.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t ask.” Marcus threw my jacket at me. “Here, you look like you need it back.”
I wrapped it around my shoulders.
“Where are you from?” Marcus’ tone was laden with suspicion.
“Spain.”
“Near Scotland?” Lilly said.
I laughed and then realized she wasn’t joking.
“It’s across the sea, Lilly,” Marcus frowned. “He’s a foreigner.”
Lilly stared at me. “What’s it like there?”
Examining my metal cuff, I tracked the links up and along to where it met the brick. I tugged the chain and dust sprayed as the bolts loosened. Somewhere within the house, the strains of a violin could be heard.
Marcus stared at the wall, his expression even more anxious.
With my fingers wrapped around the chain, I prepared to give it another tug.
“I work for Mr. Simons delivering groceries,” Lilly said. “One time, I went to the wrong door of the great house in Greenwich, the main one instead of the one for servants.”
With an incredulous expression, I said. “What’s your point, exactly?”
“Well, I got into trouble and Mr. Simons refused to read to me.”
“Lilly loves books,” Marcus explained. “Mr. Simons reads to her.”
“I can tell you’re a man of education, too,” Lilly said.
I gazed off and didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry,” Lilly said, sighing. “You’re worried about your friend and I’m talking about?—”
“Books are a good distraction.” I rubbed my temples.
Lilly moved closer to me. “Maybe you can read to me one day.”
I looked over at her and saw tears streaming down her face.
I put my arm around her thin shoulders. “I will, Lilly.”