Page 51 of Lure Academy

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D’Argyle laughed lightheartedly and pinched her rosy cheek. “You deserve all the attention in the world, beautiful Sophie. You’re smart, charismatic, and curious. If there’s anything I admire in a young woman, it’s curiosity. You’re intuitive, you ask clever questions, and you have a natural desire to learn and discover the world.”

“Did I really ask clever questions?” Sophie thought. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember most of their discussion about the exotic plants in the greenhouse. Maybe she had worked on autopilot.

“Your youth and energy bring a breath of fresh air to this isolated place. I will make sure you get the life you deserve, my darling. You were not made to waste yourself in a small, mountain village, working the land and milking cows.”

She offered him an enthusiastic smile.

“Now come, I want you to meet some of my guests. Two of my oldest friends arrived yesterday, and I’m sure you will enjoy their company. I haven’t seen them in years.”

He opened the door and Sophie stepped back into the dark corridor. When the Count said he hadn’t seen them in years, she truly hoped he meant decades. She knew Alexi and Kain were here, but she hadn’t expected to see them so soon. It was going to be so weird to see them as Leraje and Andras. Although she hadn’t met Marquis Andras at Lure Academy, she couldn’t forget her first training session and how Leraje had almost tricked her into helping him escape. Yes, she knew it would only be Alexi copying the demon’s aura, but she was still nervous.

CHAPTER FOUR

Lunch had gone better than she had expected, or at least that was what Sophie felt every time she thought back to it. She raised the glass of red wine to her lips and took a small sip, her eyes fixed on the flames dancing in the fireplace. It was so warm and cozy that she could spend a lifetime here, in the Count’s fancy chalet. Speaking of the Count, where was he anyway? “Off to bring another bottle of wine,” she reminded herself. But why hadn’t he asked a servant to do it? “He doesn’t have servants here…” She forced herself to look away from the fire and study the room for the third time in the past two hours. Or was it the fourth time? The fifth? She was lying on the divan, and the blue silk of her long, rich dress made her look as if she was surrounded by ocean waves D’Argyle had woven into the fabric of her gown himself. Sophie chuckled and took another sip of wine. Since when had she become so romantic? This was insane. No one had made this exquisite Victorian dress especially for her. The Count would have gifted it to any other woman with the same ease he had offered it to her. She placed the glass on the table, straightened her back, and shook her head.

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered. She looked around her again, and scrunched her nose in disgust at the sight of the huge hunting trophy right above the fireplace. An impressive number of antlers protruded from the massive head of the stag, showing the animal had been very old when the hunter had shot it down. “Was this here before?” Simple logic told her the trophy had always been above the fireplace. She rose to her feet and walked a bit around the room, trying to clear the thick mist in her mind. Every time she stopped to study one of the paintings decorating the walls, or the small bronze statues on the mantelpiece, she noticed how the information didn’t register. The details slipped from her mind the second she turned her gaze to something else.

She reached for the statue of an athletic young woman dressed in animal skins and holding a tall spear in her right hand, but the tips of her fingers stopped short of touching it. “Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and wild animals… I’ve seen this before. But where?” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples lightly, trying to remember. “Focus… Oh, why is it so hard to focus?” She stayed like that for a long minute, listening to her own heartbeat and breathing in and out slowly, carefully. It was hard to concentrate when she couldn’t bring her demon sigil to the surface and use her shield to block the Count’s invasive aura. “I need fresh air.”

Sophie was out of the chalet and on the wooden porch in seconds. Eyes closed, she breathed in the strong mountain air, letting the refreshing scent of pine trees fill her lungs. She felt the pressure on her shoulders and chest easing up a bit, and when she opened her eyes, the image of the clear blue sky chased away some of the mist clouding her brain. “I’ve never thought this would be so difficult,” she thought. She placed her palms on her stomach, right above her demon sigil, which was currently buried deep under her skin. It all came back to her now. Bits and pieces of what had happened in the past hours. Yes, she had seen the statue of Artemis before. And the hunting trophy. In the Count’s chalet, when she had first entered the room, then when he had told her the stories behind them. The demon’s aura messed with her head and memories to the point when she felt like she was walking the boundary between dream and reality, sinking deep then struggling to find her way back to the surface. Shifti

ng sands… The experience reminded her of shifting sands.

When she thought her head was clear enough, she tried to remember the lunch she had had with Alexi and Kain. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Casimir D’Argyle had introduced them as Leraje and Andras, and Sophie had offered them a smile and a small courtesy. She had barely recognized them. It was impressive how much they had managed to change their appearance only by changing the color and intensity of their aura. She was aware they looked the same as always, Alexi with his longish black hair, dark green eyes, and sharp, noble features, and Kain with his shoulder-length blond hair, icy blue eyes, and lean, athletic body, but at the same time, she could feel there was something about them, something that made it impossible for her to focus on their familiar features, on the details she knew so well, something that made her skin crawl and her heart shrink in fear. She tried to remember the conversation they had, but everything was a blissful blur.

“So that’s what it feels like to be under the influence of a Ke’let demon.” She got off the wooden porch and took a couple of steps down the alley that led back to the mansion. She couldn’t remember much of the walk from the mansion to the chalet either. She knew the Count had told her he’d like to show her a special place, a place where he retreated to read and relax. Now that he wasn’t in her close proximity and she could think straight, she walked a bit farther down the path and tried to see if there was anything of interest around the chalet. It was much smaller and less impressive than the mansion, and it seemed to be well hidden in the forest. At first glance, it really did look like a peaceful place designed for those times when you felt like getting far away from civilization. Except the Count already lived away from it, so why would he need a second dwelling, even more isolated than the first one?

Sophie stopped at the edge of the forest and turned around to get a better, wider perspective on the chalet. “Hmm… there doesn’t seem to be anything out of place…” She walked to the left side of the wooden house, deciding she might as well go around it. When she reached the tall windows of the room she had just left, she looked inside to make sure the Count hadn’t arrived with the second bottle of wine. Satisfied to see it empty, she resumed walking. After a couple more steps, she stopped dead in her tracks, startled by a low growl coming from somewhere behind her. “Oh shit,” she whispered. “What is that?” Hands turned into fists at her sides, she took a deep breath and turned on her heels. “Holy mother of…” The words died on her lips, and she swallowed hard.

The huge, ugly creature which was snarling and baring its fangs at Sophie resembled a dog. A mutated dog. It had two sets of eyes, and two mouths filled with sharp teeth which could probably sink into Sophie’s flesh like knives cutting through a cake. It was much bigger than a dog, almost the size of a pony, with silver fur and two sets of small, pointy ears. Its red eyes glowed with menace. When the creature took a small step towards her, Sophie took a step back and started contemplating running for her life. Would she make it to the mansion before the monster pounced on her and turned her into delicious dinner? How far was the mansion anyway? If she decided to run, she’d have to get rid of her high heels first. Another low, threatening grown snapped her out of her thoughts.

“You’re quite big, aren’t you?” she whispered. She wasn’t sure talking to it was a good idea, but she had to try. “It’s okay… there’s no need for us to start on the wrong foot. I’m sure we can be friends.”

The creature’s eyes glowed redder and its lips stretched to reveal more of the razor sharp fangs and red, glistening gums. Sophie took another step back and lifted her hands in front of her, although she knew if the thing attacked, her defensive position wouldn’t help her at all. She had a good idea about what the thing was. It looked like a hellhound. From what she had learned at Lure Academy, she knew hellhounds were very rare and dangerous, but not necessarily evil. Their behavior depended on the master they served. If Casimir D’Argyle liked her and wanted her to stick around at least until the Spring Celebration, then there was a fair chance his hound would not attack her. However, the Count wasn’t here now.

“You don’t want to do this, trust me,” she tried again. Her voice was low and pleading. “Your master wouldn’t like it, and you don’t want to upset him do you?”

Her words seemed to make the dog angrier. In one long leap, it was right in Sophie’s face. She screamed and tried to back down, but her heels got caught in the hem of her dress and sent her stumbling onto the ground. The hound took this opportunity to climb on top of her and press one heavy paw on her chest to keep her pinned. Sophie held her breath and willed the red wine she had drunk to settle back down in her stomach. The creature’s fowl stench made her gag, and the last thing she needed was to throw up while she was on her back, held down by a monster that would gladly watch her suffocate.

“I see you two have already met.”

The hound’s small ears perked at the sound of the Count’s velvety voice.

“Irvene, come here! That’s not the way to treat a lady.”

The creature shot Sophie one last suspicious look, but climbed off her chest and ran to its master. “Irvene,” thought Sophie. “Irvene…” The Count’s presence was already making it difficult for her to think. “I’ve read about Irvene.” One of Tarini’s long lists of bibliographic resources contained a book on hellhounds. Sophie had read it in one night, fascinated by these unique creatures. Unfortunately, it had absorbed her so much that she had given up taking notes after the first chapter. After all, it hadn’t been required reading. Now, it was either because she had read the book too fast, or because the Count’s power was muddling her brain, but she couldn’t remember a single useful detail about Irvene. “I must tell Alexi and Kain” was her last coherent thought. Then Casimir D’Argyle offered her his hand to pull her up, and squeezed her to his chest for support.

“Are you all right, my dear? Don’t be afraid of Irvene, she’d never hurt you.”

He caressed her hair, and Sophie almost purred in his embrace. What was this man doing to her? How did he manage to make her forget how much she hated him, and turn her into a compliant puppet that only wanted to please him?

“She ruined your dress,” the Count whispered in her ear. “I’m so sorry, lovely Sophie. Sometimes, Irvene takes her job too seriously.”

“What is her job?”

“To guard the chalet, of course. She’s an amazing dog, don’t you think? The most beautiful Siberian Husky I’ve ever seen. She cost me a fortune.”

“Yes… beautiful Husky…” Irvene was no Siberian Husky, but Sophie knew the only reason for which she could see the creature’s real appearance was because she was a cambion and her inner demon still protected her from the Count’s hypnosis even when kept dormant. Or so she hoped. D’Argyle tilted her chin up and she found herself lost in his violet gaze, like an abandoned ship wandering aimlessly in dark, mysterious waters.


Tags: Cara Wylde Erotic