"Did you check the bedrooms?" I asked, panic trying to creep in. I pushed it down and tried to remain calm in the face of so many watchful eyes.
"Yes." Allister nodded. "All of them. And the library. And the garden."
"And the drawing room. She's nowhere." Drake dragged a hand over his face and growled. "Fuck, this is my fault. I shouldn't have let her leave."
"No, you shouldn't have," I scolded, as my eyes searched the crowd for our master. When they landed on him, my blood ran cold. He met my gaze with a triumphant smirk as he lifted his wine glass full of blood in the air.
"I know who has her," I announced, before pushing through them. I stalked across the ballroom and over the dance floor until I stood before our master, Boris Stravinsky. "Where is she?"
Boris grinned and excused himself from his conversation to turn to me. "Why, I don't have any idea who you are talking about."
I growled, flashing my fangs at him, not caring who was watching. "Don't play games with me, Boris. You know damn well who I'm talking about."
His grin falter and he stepped closer to me, lowering his voice. "I'm going to excuse your rudeness because you are upset, but I will not have you disrespect me in front of all of our friends."
"They're not my friends. They're yours. Everything here is yours. You made that perfectly clear when I left your house with nothing but the clothes on my back. And it just chaps your hide that I actually made something of myself and my house without you." Anger pulsated through my veins and I found myself unable to hold back any longer. I'd been holding in so much pain and resentment, and I was tired of kissing his wrinkly old ass because he happened to have made me. Enough was enough.
"Antoine." Boris—to my annoyance—calmly patted me on the shoulder. "You clearly have some things you need to get off of your chest. Why don't we go to my study and talk about it?" He turned and then paused, gesturing his glass to the others. "And bring your brothers. Might as well get everything out in the open." To the rest of the party, he grinned and held his hands up. "Go back to the festivities, this is a family matter. I'll be back after I have a little chat with my boys."
The guests chuckled around us, which only made it all worse. He wasn't taking me seriously. He was treating me like some child he had to chastise before sending to bed without supper. I would not be patronized.
I followed Boris out of the ballroom with my brothers close on my heels. Everyone's eyes trailed after us, and I wanted nothing more than to stab them all with a stake. When we left the ballroom, Theresa waited in the hallway with Boris, looking far too pleased with herself.
"Ah, Theresa. My loyal daughter. Where have you been?" Boris stopped next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. The way she clung to him was sickening.
Theresa leaned into Boris's touch, but her eyes were on Wynn the whole time. "Oh, just getting ready to get rid of some broken things."
"Well, the boys and I were about to have a family discussion in my study. You should join us. In fact, you should find Valentine. We might as well clear the air there as well." I forced myself not to react to the sound of Valentine's name. My brothers, I knew, weren't as skilled as I was at keeping a poker face. We had plenty of practice, but I'd had it more.
If Boris noticed, he didn't say anything, but Theresa had a sly look in her eye I didn't care for. "I already looked and couldn't find him. Maybe he got lost. Someone said they saw him head into the maze earlier."
Boris hummed. "Oh well, we'll have to carry on without him. Come."
Stiffer than before, we walked as if we were going to our own execution. Which we might very well be, for all I knew. Something was going on. They were being too agreeable and secretive. I had no doubt that they took Piper, but if they knew we killed Valentine, they weren't giving it away...yet.
Entering the drawing room, my eyes instantly landed on Piper, who lay in the middle of the floor with her eyes closed. I didn't immediately rush to her, but Rayne tried to.
"Ah, ah, ah." Boris appeared between Rayne and Piper, waving his finger in front of Rayne's face. "Let's not wake her just yet. She's had quite an accident and I wouldn't want her to be in pain. Would you?"
"What did you do?" Drake growled, taking a bold step forward.
I lifted my arm to stop him from going farther. "She's not dead. You can hear her breathing. Just wait." Lifting my gaze to Boris, I calmly asked, "What do you want?"
"Why, my boys home of course." Boris laced his fingers in front of him and grinned from ear to ear. Theresa sat on the edge of his desk and watched with the amusement of a cat.
"Not going to happen." I shook my head, bearing my fangs. "Never in a million years."
"Not even for your little human?" Boris pouted. "I thought you cared for her more than that."
I stared Boris down and gritted out, "You will not touch her."
"I've already touched her." Theresa held up her hand and giggled. "And it was delicious." This time, Wynn snarled in her direction, making Theresa jump and smirk. "Oh, Wynn. Do it again. I do love when you get all riled up," she mocked, biting and clawing at him.
Boris, however, had other things on his mind. "Very well, if you won't come back to me, then perhaps you could tell me what you've done with my precious boy?"
My back stiffened. "I don't know what you mean."
Clucking his tongue, Boris shook his head. "Now who's playing games? Theresa saw you leave the ballroom after him, and then someone else saw you in the maze with him." His blood-red eyes moved over to Wynn. "Both of you. So, who did it? Who killed Valentine?"