I take the steps two at a time as I rush downstairs and stop in the foyer. Voices originate from the dining room. I stomp down the hall and through the doorway.
Sefton sits at the head of the long table while Allison occupies the chair beside him.
When she sees me, she smiles—though only for half a second. I'm sure she worries about my brother's reaction if he should notice that she seems rather pleased to see me. I don't blame her for veering her gaze away.
"Good morning, Dax," my brother says, and he sounds almost sincere. "Join us for breakfast. I made this meal myself."
"Because you fired all the staff." I sit down opposite Allison. "When did you learn to cook, Sef?"
"No one taught me. I figured it out on my own."
Oh yes, that makes me want to eat his food. Allison seems to be pushing it around on her plate but not actually consuming any of her meal. Maybe she's afraid Sefton will poison us. He would only risk that with me. Allison is more than a tool for my crackbrained brother to exploit, but right now, my most pressing problem is how to get her to eat. I doubt the food is poisoned, and we both need nourishment. So I spear a piece of blackened sausage with my fork and eat it. "Not bad, Sef. The faint taste of charcoal gives it a distinctive flavor."
"Glad you approve. But that's not charcoal. It's a honey glaze."
"Sure it is. Honey is so often black."
This is bizarre. I'm having a normal conversation with my brother, the madman responsible for the world's ruination, as if we're just two blokes enjoying a morning meal.
Allison still hasn't tasted the food. I consume a mouthful of mashed potatoes and make a noise that implies I like it. Well, the food isn't the worst I've ever had. It's not the best either, but starving refugees from the apocalypse can't be finicky. Allison bites her upper lip, watching me eat. After I've devoured another bite of sausage and two forkfuls of baked beans, she finally starts to eat.
I relax, just a bit. Can't completely relax under the circumstances, but at least Allison won't be malnourished. It seems impossible to believe I kidnapped her a few days ago and treated her like my enemy. Now I'm determined to make sure she has a good breakfast.
After our meal, and more bizarrely mundane conversation, we all walk out into the foyer.
I haven't forgotten what Sefton said last night—that Allison and I will be in this house for the rest of our lives—and it's time to ask him the obvious question. "What do you mean to do with us?"
"I'll share my plans with you when I return."
"Return? From where?"
Sefton shrugs. "I need to survey the areas that have already been transformed. Alchemy on this level is extraordinarily difficult to achieve, and I can't be sure a few things haven't been cocked up in the process. I need to see for myself."
"I'll go with you."
He lets out a harsh laugh. "Are you off your trolley, Dax? I can't let you leave this compound because I can't trust you not to try to escape. Besides, it wouldn't be clever to leave Allison alone here. The entire five-hundred-acre property is warded, magically, to prevent anyone from entering. But the guards… Well, I can't guarantee they'll mind their manners."
"What sort of guards? I haven't seen them."
"No, you wouldn't. They have their orders." He throws a hand up when I start to speak again. "Enough, Dax. I need to say goodbye to Allison."
Sefton clasps her hands, leaning in until their faces hover a hair's breadth apart. "I regret leaving you so soon after our reunion, but it can't be helped. When I return, we will be married. And we shall at last consummate our union."
Consummate? I don't care if he is my flesh and blood. I will murder him if he touches Allison.
"Married?" she says, her jaw dropping. "We hardly know each other. No offense, but I don't love you."
"But you shall." He presses his lips to hers. "We are going to rule the world together, pet."
He shuffles away from us. A portal appears just behind him, and he walks backward through it. The portal vanishes.
"You are not marrying him," I snarl.
"No, I'm not." She bars her arms over her breasts. "But not because you commanded I won't do it. No more growling orders at me. Got it?"
"I can't stand to see him touch you or speak to you as if you're already his."
"He thinks I am." She approaches me, tilting her head back to meet my gaze. "But he is mistaken. Nobody owns me. Not him, not you, not anyone."