It was a quiet affair, with only Sofia, Ketu, Antoinette, and the two children seated around the table, which Antoinette assured her was also not normal. Usually, any number of dragons stopped in for one reason or another, and as was Southern—and dragon—custom, if they came by during mealtime, they were invited to partake. Not to mention, Maria, Trennon, and Delilah all lived here, so usually at least one if not all of them made themselves available to food.
“The reeve of the colony Ketu lived in up in Detroit has a full-time chef,” Antoinette commented in between bites of her burger. “I’ve been thinking about creating that position here. I’d hoped Maria would be willing to do it, since she doesn’t really do much else, but the woman can’t cook to save her life.”
“Why does she live here?” Sofia blurted before she could catch herself.
Antoinette sighed. “Darius kept her prisoner here when he had his father sedated. She was Trennon’s caregiver. Couldn’t leave the house. Plus, according to Ketu, Darius abused her. I had hoped allowing her to live here and just do simple chores would help her deal with the trauma and eventually heal.”
Sofia and Maria had more in common than Sofia would have ever guessed.
Both children were rubbing their respective eyes. “I think it’s bedtime,” Sofia said softly, and then, because she did not want Penelope to grow up as reclusive as she herself had become, she added, “If you’d like to sleep in Henri’s room, you can, sweetheart.”
Penelope perked up and clapped her hands. “Yay! Thank you, Mommy.” She flung her arms around Sofia’s neck, hugging her so tightly that Sofia had to pry her arms apart so she could breathe, and then she turned to Henri. “I’ve never had a sleepover before.”
Soon enough, the kids were tucked in, Penelope on the bottom bunk and Henri up top, and after two stories and lots of kisses, the three adults stepped out into the hall.
“Normally, Ketu and I retire to our room at this point,” Antoinette said. “Gives us a break after being around other people all day long. But I’m happy to go downstairs if you want to. We can sit outside and split a bottle of wine.”
As tempting as that offer was, Sofia shook her head. “I’m sure you have a ton of work to do. And I’m exhausted.” It was a lie; she was wide awake and actually feeling a bit jittery, but she did not want to impose any more than she already had.
“Okay then. Good night. See you in the morning.”
She watched Ketu and Antoinette walk down the hall to the other end, and once the door closed behind them, she headed back downstairs. Sitting outside with a glass of wine actually sounded like a lovely idea.
As she helped herself to the bottle of rosé in the fridge, Sofia decided she needed to figure out how to pay Antoinette back for her generosity. She would start in the morning by getting up early and making everyone breakfast. A quick perusal of the kitchen told her there were ample ingredients to make omelets and bacon and toast, with a side of fruit.
Feeling less like a burden already, she stepped outside and gently closed the door behind her. There were no lights on, which was smart as it reduced the number of hovering bugs. The slowly swirling fans hanging from the porch ceiling helped too.
That was good, because the air was stagnant—hot and heavy, with no breeze to speak of. No doubt a fall thunderstorm was heading their way. Moisture was beading on her forehead, her upper lip, and her chest. She ought to go back inside where it was cooler, but she’d always been a sucker for the calm before a storm.
She’d need to shower before going to bed, but in the meantime, she wanted to sit in the gazebo under that imposing oak. Crickets and frogs calling to each other greeted her ears as she walked across the damp ground. She assumed the birds had all settled for the night, but then something scurried across her path and a great barn owl swooped down and clamped its jaws around the critter before flying up and disappearing into the darkened sky.
A wicker couch, two chairs, and a coffee table were positioned inside the gazebo, which also had mosquito netting that could be zipped closed to ensure the bugs stayed away. A Rubbermaid storage container sat off to the side, and that’s where Sofia assumed the cushions were kept to protect them from the sort of weather that was most definitely heading their way.
Placing her wineglass on the low table, she bent and flipped open the storage bin. Two solar-powered lanterns hung from the side of the carport, casting just enough light for her to make out two cushions.
When she turned around, a man sat on the wicker frame, one arm extended across the back, his right ankle resting on his left knee. Sofia gasped. “Darius. What are you doing here?”
In a swift movement, he stood and grabbed the cushions from her grasp, knocking over her glass in the process. It bounced against the wooden floor but did not break, although all the wine poured out and leaked down between the slates.
Darius dropped the cushions onto the couch and then sat again, appearing as if this were a casual visit. But Sofia knew better. When he gave off the most relaxed image was when he was most dangerous.
“Visiting my dear sister, of course,” he replied, inspecting his nails and not looking at her. “I think the real question is: what are you doing here?”
“I-I didn’t have a choice. But I swear, no one knows anything about me…you…our association.” Well, except for Griffin, but most of what he knew, he’d guessed, and
