She swung her legs over the side of the bed and kicked off her shoes. She dug her toes into the plush carpet. The bedside clock said a little after one in the morning, but there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep with all these questions keeping her brain spun up.
She left her room and went out into the hall. Muted voices carried up from somewhere below. The deep male tones sounded like Hugh and Stanhill.
She traipsed down the steps and found them in the spacious living room, Hugh standing beside the fireplace, Stanhill leaning against the back of one couch. They stopped talking when she came in.
Feeling a bit like an interloper, she smiled sheepishly. “Hi.”
Hugh looked her over. “How are you feeling?”
“I fainted, right?”
“Yes.”
“I feel okay.”
Stanhill straightened. “How about a cup of hot chocolate, miss?”
“That sounds great, thank you.”
When he left, she sat on the couch and tucked her feet under her and took a breath. “We need to talk.”
“I concur.” Hugh came and sat across from her. “Where do you want to start?”
She stared at his knees. It was safer than having those piercing eyes of his derail her train of thought. “I don’t know if I believe you’re a vampire yet.”
“That’s okay. Are you afraid of me?”
She liked that he asked the tough questions straight out. There was a lot to be said for not dancing around the elephant in the room. “I didn’t wake up with any bite marks, so…”
Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Yes, but did you check the cat?”
She laughed softly as she looked at him. “I did, actually.”
He groaned good-naturedly and scrubbed a hand across his face. “The curse of my kind.”
“Speaking of, and I’m not saying I’m buying into this whole thing yet, but let’s say there are vampires. Are they everywhere?”
He nodded. “Not just vampires, but shifters of all varieties, witches, fae, jinn—”
She held her hands up. “Okay, I get it. We are not alone.” Seriously, though, that was a lot to accept. “So every town has these supernatural creatures?”
“Every town. Every state. Every country. Humans just can’t differentiate us from anyone else so we blend right in. Unless you happen to see our non-human side. Then you’d know.”
“Non-human. That’s putting a pin in it, huh? So you mean fangs and silvery eyes and what else? Do you fly? Turn into a bat? Please, in the name of all things sweet and sugary, do not tell me you sparkle.”
One of his brows lifted indignantly. “No. No sparkling. Or turning into bats. Not in my family.”
Stanhill came back in with her hot chocolate. Of course it was in a china cup and saucer on a silver tray. “Can I get you anything else, miss?”
“No, thank you.” She took the cup and saucer and set it on the table separating the two couches. Talking about this was starting to make everything seem more real. “Are you a vampire too, Stanhill?”
“No, miss. I’m a…” He glanced at Hugh.
“Go ahead, tell her.”
Stanhill nodded. “I’m Hugh’s rook.”
“What is that?” She sipped the chocolate, which was hot but delicious.
Stanhill tucked the tray behind his back. “A rook is a vampire’s assistant. We do daylight errands. Protect the vampire while they’re sleeping. That sort of thing.”
“And in return you get what? I hope you at least have dental.” She slanted her eyes at Hugh. “That wasn’t a fang joke, I swear.”
Stanhill lifted his chin. “My compensation is immortality. A boost to the senses, not as much as a vampire, but a nice bump. Faster healing. Lots of perks.”
“No downside?”
He shrugged. “Can’t be too far away from Hugh for any length of time. That’s a bit of a drag, as I’m sure you can imagine.” He winked at her.
“How do you get to be a rook?” She raised a hand. “Purely out of curiosity. I have no desire to become one.”
“Almost the same way you become a vampire. Two bites in a set period of time.”
She looked at Hugh. “You did this to him then?”
Hugh nodded. “He was my valet.”
“Why not turn him into a full-fledged vampire?”
“I didn’t want that, miss,” Stanhill answered. “I’d been in service since I was a wee lad. I was happy to stay on in that regard.” His jaw worked like he was fighting emotion. “Saved me from the plague, he did.”
She studied Hugh, shaking her head slowly. “This is nuts. You know that, right?”
“I’ll leave you to it then.” Stanhill gave them a little nod and left.
Hugh said nothing for a few moments. “I know it must be hard to accept. And I’m sure you have more questions.”
“Yes. Thousands. But I don’t know where to start.” She drank a little more of her chocolate, buying herself time to sort the chaos in her head.
“What comes to mind first?”
“Is the sheriff really a werewolf?”
“Yes.”
“Do your brothers have rooks?”
“Sebastian, yes. Julian, no.” Hugh snorted. “Probably for the best. A rook would only cramp his style.”
“Is that woman who lives with your grandmother a rook or a witch or what?”