It wasn’t an escapee from the gently bobbing circle, and it wasn’t alone. Another broom flew past a second later, right on the first one’s tail. It caught up and the two looped and ducked and twined around each other in the big space overhead, while going about Mach 2.
“Who—is that Rhea?” I asked, and Milly’s mouth pursed slightly in disapproval.
“Yes, Lady. Should I summon her back?”
“No. I just—what is she doing?”
“Racing the vampire,” Milly said. “He challenged her and . . . well. She is not very good at ignoring challenges.”
I guessed not. Because whatever kind of race they were doing, it looked like Rhea might be winning. Although Rico was no slouch, especially for a vampire who had no business being on a broom in the first place! But he was managing it just fine, how I didn’t know, but I guessed that somebody had enchanted it for him.
They zoomed around the huge room another couple of times, neck and neck, and I swear, it was like seeing a whole other Rhea. Her dark hair was flying out behind her, her faced was flushed and determined and happy, and then she caught the back of Rico’s broom with a foot, causing it to spiral out into the room, and giving her the win. And even from this far, I could hear her laughing.
I was still staring upward when there was a weird noise behind me, and I turned to see a grinning vampire standing there with broom in hand.
“Lady,” Rico said, his face flushed and his hair everywhere, but his manners on point. He bowed over my hand.
“Don’t you start,” I warned.
The grin widened. “I wondered when we would see you down here. The young ladies have been working hard. Rhea included,” he added, as I glanced upward again. “I only stole her away for a minute.”
“Steal her away for more. I haven’t heard her laugh like that in a while.”
“And why should she?” he asked, taking my arm and pulling me away, probably to get out of the range of Milly’s disapproval. “You saw what they did last night.”
“Has that happened before?” I asked, as we headed toward the other end of the drag.
“No, although they have been riding her hard. I thought you had agreed to it—”
“What?”
“—before you stepped in to stop it.”
“Thanks!” I said, feeling hurt and a little angr
y that he’d even think that.
“I am sorry.” I looked up to see warm brown eyes looking back at me, the golden color of last night’s power surge long since faded. Rico’s eyes were ridiculously attractive, with thick, dark lashes longer than mine, which he was perfectly capable of batting if he thought it would help. But today, it really wouldn’t, and he seemed to get that, because he got serious again pretty fast.
“I’m not trying to force Rhea into anything,” I told him. “And I didn’t tell anyone else to. But the old Pythian Court had some pretty . . . intense . . . training methods.”
“Especially when trying to train an heir,” he said, shooting me a look.
I stopped walking, both to avoid something huge under a sheet that was being trundled down the street and because there was something strangely intense about his expression. “Shouldn’t they be?” I asked.
He frowned, looking partly confused and partly angry. “Why are you asking me? You know how I feel.”
“About Rhea being my heir? No, I don’t.”
He laughed suddenly, although there was something bitter in it. “Then you think me a better man than I am.”
We paused by a hitching post in a deserted part of the street, as far away from listening ears as possible. “If you have something to say, this would be a good time,” I pointed out.
“You already know it,” he repeated. “If Rhea stays your heir, she is off limits to pursuit.”
“Pursuit?”
“Courtship. L’amore. She must remain untouched, no?”