Queen of Diamonds: An Amber Farrell Novel (Bite Back Book 7) by Mark Henwick

Author:Mark Henwick [Henwick, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marque
Published: 2021-01-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

It was 3:30 a.m. before we finally got back to Labastide’s mansion.

We’d stopped on the way and I was feeling fine.

Who’d have thought a 24-hour store, off an intersection of I-10, in the middle of nowhere, would have such a good choice of rums?

Pia had dosed Rita and me with more pacifics and aniatropics as well.

The result was it looked like we’d been out to party. That was, apart from the wounds and the bruising. A zombie party maybe, with very good makeup.

I was laughing when we staggered up to Labastide’s door.

Her staff were going to turn us away, and we would have the perfect excuse to book into a hotel instead. I guess the only drawback was that Rita and I would need to be smuggled in to avoid scaring any guests still up at this hour.

The butler answered the doorbell immediately.

Not the cast-iron butler slash security of earlier. I guessed this was the night butler. The apprentice. A human, in fact. A young woman.

I leered at her.

She looked shaken, but immediately stepped to one side.

“House Farrell, welcome,” she blurted out in English. “Please come inside quickly.”

We filled the pleasant hall, and she closed the door after glancing out to see if we’d woken the neighbors.

We were a total mess.

Me and Rita, covered in wounds, carrying bottles of rum and being held up by Pia and Olivia, respectively.

Gwen being carried by Ursula.

Kane trying not to laugh.

Nick looming behind us, looking afraid to touch anything in case he broke it.

The butler bowed. “I am Jo Richardson kin-Labastide. Welcome again to the town residence of House Labastide, and your residence while you remain in the city. Before I escort you to your rooms, do you have need of further assistance? We have healers in residence.”

“I think we have most need of beds, Jo kin-Labastide,” I said. “But thank you.”

I liked her. Labastide had good taste. I got a warning squeeze from Pia to behave. Even under the anesthetic of alcohol, that hurt.

Jo took us down a passage and opened doors to three adjoining and interconnecting luxury suites.

“We received your luggage earlier and all the bags are in the first room. Will these be sufficient, House Farrell?”

“The rooms are wonderful,” Pia said. “More than sufficient, thank you.”

The girl blushed.

“House Labastide wished me to make clear that we should show you every Athanate hospitality.”

Ah. Labastide didn’t want us biting random people on the street. Her adherence to the most formal of conservative Athanate etiquette meant that she was forced to offer her own kin as an alternative. Despite despising me.

In my state I was finding it funny.

Jo was new to this. I made a guess that the front line butler had only passed the duty over when she was sure we weren’t going to turn up tonight.

“Hmm. So, is Jo short for Josephine?”

“No, House Farrell, it’s just Jo.”

“Call me Amber, please. I like you. Shame about the name. ‘Not tonight, Jo’ doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?”

“Please excuse House Farrell,” Pia said, guiding Jo out.

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