Ever since the incident with Aelfric, shower sex has been off the menu. It used to be one of my favorite places to be with the man I loved, but now I can’t bear it. I am overcome with mild panic attacks and it is somewhat of a mood killer. I couldn’t say for sure why it still affects me so badly. It’s not like I have never been abused before, but this last time just keeps rearing its ugly head. Maybe because I am supposed to be all Powerful, and with the flick of his wrist he had bound my Dragon Powers and rendered me all but useless against him. Still, with all the bad, some good did come out of it. Tiamat accelerated my Power growth and I am now officially the most Powerful creature in all the Realms (except for Her, of course). Even Remiel seems to have retreated. He appears to be off sulking somewhere and I haven’t seen him for weeks. Not that I am complaining after his little Vampire bombshell.
After Cole has made love to me, I jump back in the shower and quickly clean up before getting dressed. It is a pain that we have to fly to Italy, but in order to get back into England officially it must be this way.
Landing in Florence, I kiss Cole goodbye and make my way into the airport. I had half expected Nico to be there to pick me up, but he isn’t. Now, I am very worried. CK keeps an apartment here in Florence, which I make my way to so that I can Astral to the castle. My palms are sweating as I unlock the door and step inside. Closing the door quickly, I don’t think about it as I close my eyes and picture where I want to be. I open them again and find myself in the Entrance Hall of Ponte.
It is deathly quiet.
I wince as my heels clack on the old stone floor as I make my way over to the stairs. In a flash, Marguerite is standing in front of me, blocking my way.
“Ma’am,” she says coldly, and I raise my eyebrow at her. “You are not to go up there.”
“Get out of my way, Marguerite. He is expecting me.” Never mind that this is still also my castle - unless he somehow managed to get my name removed from the deeds. I wouldn’t put it past him. Stubborn fool.
“He doesn’t want to see you,” she says, arms crossed over her chest defensively, but I can see the quivering of her lip.
I admire her boldness in defense of her Master. She knows I could knock her on her arse with a flick of my fingers (oh yeah, I am badass now) but still she stands there.
“I won’t ask again,” I warn her and after a moment, she slinks to the side.
“I can’t stop you, but I ask that you don’t go up there,” she says quietly.
“Why?” I ask suspiciously. “Is he with someone?”
She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything else. Well, screw this. I ungracefully take the stairs two at a time and head straight for his bedroom. Our bedroom. Empty, and it doesn’t look like it has been used either. I gulp and know exactly where he is as I turn and make my way down the corridor to my old bedroom.
I pause outside the door.
He will know I am here, hovering on the other side, so I might as well just push it open. I do and step into the gloom. He is on the bed and he groans and turns away from the light coming in through the door. I close it quickly and step forward.
“Constantine,” I say to his back, as he doesn’t turn around to greet me.
Silence.
I narrow my eyes at him and then take in the room. Oh, dear. No wonder Marguerite didn’t want me coming up here. It is a disaster. He is a d
isaster. There are empty bottles of Scotch strewn all over the room, my candles that I kept in here have long since burned right down into molten puddles of wax all over the ancient bedside cabinet, ruining it. The bed covers are all in dusty disarray and he is lying in the middle of the bed, on his side, in a crumpled shirt and suit pants, with no socks on. He doesn’t look like he has changed since he got here. I am shocked at his appearance. He is one of the vainest people I know, even more so than me, and that is saying something.
I cross over to the side of the bed. “Constantine,” I say again.
“Why are you here?” he asks, still turned away from me. “You should have stayed away.”
“Why?” I ask him, confused. “We agreed to this day. Did you doubt that I would come? Did you... not want me to come for you?”
He sits up and then grabs another bottle of Scotch from the floor beside the bed. He turns to face me, and I draw in my breath. “You shouldn’t have come. I don’t deserve you. I am not worthy of you.”
I stare at him. His eyes are black, his cheeks are hollow, his skin is a sickly yellow color, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved since I last saw him. He is scruffy and that is not something that I have ever seen on him. He prefers clean-cut, always has, regardless of fashion.
“What on Earth?” I ask him, sitting down heavily as my knees give out.
“Just go, Aefre,” he says and takes a long drink of the Scotch.
I snatch it off him and he doesn’t even fight me as he sways slightly, his eyes going unfocused.
He is drunk!
I don’t think I have ever seen a Vampire drunk before. This can only mean two things: one, he hasn’t fed in a good long while and two, the amount of alcohol he has consumed must be a distillery’s worth.
“When was the last time you fed?” I ask him carefully.