Tanya was sitting close to him, naturally. She was wrapped in some ridiculously luxurious cashmere shawl, even though the house wasn't that cold. She was playing the delicate victim, sipping slowly at a tiny cup of tea, looking utterly bored but determined to stay put. I knew she was in the house because her place had some kind of problem, and Killian, being the great protector, had obviously let her move right in. Whatever. Her problems were not my problems.
I didn't try to sneak in or be quiet; I just walked straight up to the breakfast table. I grabbed a plate and loaded up on the essentials: scrambled eggs, some perfectly crispy bacon, and a few small sausages. I needed fuel.
I poured myself a mug of the strongest coffee available, which, given this house, was probably some fancy bea
