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you come to me.”
    Fay felt considerably better, now. From her experience, getting along with the housekeeper went a long way towards having a peaceful life.
    The one at Vincent’s had taken a dislike to her, which had meant that the water in her bathroom was somehow always cold; she had to clean her own rooms – she hadn’t minded, honestly; it had been something to do. Other things had been more problematic; for example, if she missed the communal meals – which had happened often as Vincent generally called her around dinner time – no one was allowed to serve her anything. One of the servants, Xia, had sneaked in leftovers when she could.
    Fay couldn’t imagine Zeva would let anyone go hungry for kicks.
    Undeniably proving that, she was on her way to get some breakfast ready.
    “You’re the first up, so far. The others generally emerge around seven or eight, so nothing is ready yet,” she told her apologetically.
    Fay waved it off. That had been her normal time, too, but obviously, the long nap in the car, followed by some sleep in the wondrous bed, had screwed with her body clock.
    It made her wonder; how had she ended up in the bedroom anyway? Who had carried her? It was a miracle that she’d slept through it.
    “Breakfast won’t be for half an hour or so. Feel free to veg out in a nice warm bath, sweetie.”
    Fay blushed, guessing the pointed suggestion was more than likely due to her stench.
    She’d showered the previous night, when she’d gotten up, but since, she’d been caressed, fingered, and she’d also travelled for hours. She probably smelt absolutely fantastic.  
    “Dear William said you had a rough time,” the woman smiled sadly.
    She had a name to label the panty melting face – not that she’d worn any panties, but she was quite certain that if she had, they would have been soaked through at first glance. William. Fay approved; it was a common, yet classic name that somehow suited him.
    “So, I popped some of my bubble bath and salts next to your tub, honey. You enjoy.” 
    It was a good thing the woman left then, because Fay choked up a little.
    In the bathroom, once she’d slipped into the delightfully warm, floral, bubbly piece of heaven, she felt her heart constrict thinking about Cece, who was at Vincent’s, certainly not unwinding in a giant tiger claw tub.
    Well, actually, she doubtlessly was asleep: it was somewhere around two or three in the afternoon in Riverville right now. When she woke up in a few hours, she’d have to go get “ready” for the day. Vincent always left instructions – nipple clamps, butt plug, open mouth gag… the possibilities were endless for Cece. Fay had only been required to wear non-penetrative toys that had varied almost every day.
    She cursed resentfully, at herself more than anything.
    No one had left her a list, or asked her to perform any specific task yet her body was awake, craving touch.
    Ignore it. You’re better than that. Better than them.
    She refused to be nothing more than the sexual object Vincent had attempted to turn her into.
    But as Oscar Wilde had written…
     

     
    “I want him behind bars, Mike.”
    “Done,” his brother growled. “He’s on the list.”
    William, generally, was the passionate guy in the family, but Michael had one sensitive chord no one should ever attempt to fiddle.
    After the Great Reveal, Michael had practically unanimously been nominated as the best option to fill the position of King of the North American Coven for three reasons: the first was the legacy he carried, the second was his meticulous, cautious nature – a valuable trait he didn’t share with many vampires – and finally, because he was one of the strongest amongst them.
    All that being said, everything that defined Michael – his polite, politically correct façade, his pleasantness – disappeared whenever an idiot broke his one rule.
     
    The first and only law the King had passed, without even seeking the opinion or the