One Fell Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles #3)(15)

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he said.

I realized that I hadn’t even thanked him yesterday. I’d just grabbed Maud and walked away and then didn’t leave the suite for the entirety of the trip back. Not that it was very long - about twelve hours or so - but still.

“Thank you for coming to rescue my sister.”

“You’re welcome.”

It would help if I stopped staring at him like a fool.

“How is she?”

“Maud?” Yes, who else would he be asking about? Ugh. “She’s resilient.”

“Look at the way she stands,” Sean murmured.

When you picked up a child and held her, it was natural to pop a hip out and sit her on it. I’d seen Mom do it in the pictures where she held me or Maud. When I picked up Helen, I had unconsciously done the same thing. Maud was holding Helen so she could see the fish better, but her hips were perfectly straight. She supported her daughter’s entire weight with her arms and Helen wasn’t light. I had no idea what the average weight for a five-year-old girl was, but Helen was probably forty, maybe forty-five pounds.

It’s hard to pop the hip out while wearing armor. Maud stood like a vampire.

“It will wear off,” I said. I sounded like I wanted to convince myself.

Sean didn’t say anything.

“Are you going to stick around?” And why did I just say that?

“Where would I go?” he asked.

I was making a spectacular idiot out of myself today. I had to get to the inn. Worrying about it was driving me crazy.

“I don’t know,” I said. “The galaxy is a big place. A certain werewolf once told me that he wanted to open his eyes and see it.”

“I saw it.”

“Learn anything interesting?”

Sean’s eyes flashed with amber. “I learned that sometimes what you go looking for isn’t as important as what you leave behind.”

My face felt hot. Did I just blush? I hoped not. “What did you leave behind?” Oh, I was such an idiot.

He opened his mouth.

The doors in the far wall opened and Arland marched out. He was in full armor. His blood mace hung at his waist. He carried a large, black bag slung across his shoulders and an equally large bag in his right hand. Another male vampire, russet-haired and a few years younger, followed him, distress plain on his face.

Arland stopped by me. He didn’t look at Maud. Maud pretended she didn’t see him.

“Lady Dina.”

“Lord Arland. Thank you again for rescuing my sister and for letting us ride in this amazing ship.”

“It was a small matter,” he said. “I wanted to speak to you concerning a promise you made to me.”

What promise, when, where? “Yes?”

“You once told me that I would always find myself welcome at your inn.”

Oh, that. “Of course.”

Arland smiled, baring the edge of his fangs. “I find myself… stressed.”

“Stressed, my lord?”

“Stressed by the burdens of House matters. I find myself bending under the weight of overwhelming responsibility.”

Sean chuckled. “You live for that shit.”

Arland valiantly ignored him. “I desire a sojourn. A brief respite from the many matters requiring my attention. I do believe I’ve earned it.”

The russet-haired vampire stepped forward. “Lord Marshal, your uncle was most specific—”

Arland bared his fangs a little more. “My uncle is, of course, concerned for my well-being.”

The male vampire looked like someone had slapped his face with a fish.

“He knows the many pressures I face and he would be delighted to know I’ve taken steps to remedy my condition, isn’t that so, Knight Ruin?”

“Yes, my lord,” the russet-haired vampire said, resigned. “Lord Soren will be delighted.”

Lord Soren popped into my head in all his burly, grim-faced, older vampire glory. “I didn’t know the Knight Sergeant knew the meaning of the word.”

“His grizzled exterior hides a gentle heart.”

Knight Ruin nearly choked on air.

“You’re welcome to spend as much time at Gertrude Hunt as you need, my lord. We are honored by your presence.”

“It’s decided, then.”

The summoning gate turned crimson.

“And we’re here. How fortuitous.” Arland stepped into the red light. Sean laughed under his breath and followed him in.

Maud approached, leading Helen by the hand. “You’re letting him stay at the inn?”

“Of course.” Considering that he just flew his destroyer halfway across the galaxy for her sake, it was the least I could do.

Maud said nothing, but I could see the sigh on her face.

“It’s a big inn,” I told her. “You will hardly see him.”

She grinned at me. “I was right. You did turn into Mom.”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes.

She grabbed her bag, squeezed Helen’s hand, and stepped into the crimson glow.

I followed her.

Vertigo squeezed me. A strange sensation of flying but without moving rolled through me, rearranging all my organs, and then I landed on the grass in the orchard. Early morning colored the sky a pale pink. Against the light backdrop, Gertrude Hunt stood out, with all her endearing Victorian oddities: the balconies protruding in strange places, the tower, the sunroom, the eaves, the spindle work, the overly ornate windows, and I loved every inch of it.