Chapter 3We ate lunch in the dining room, or at least Steven ate; I merely watched, my hunger level rising with each hearty chomp he took, as the meat glided down his slender throat. And, no, I had no intention of availing myself of my manservant’s jugular for my repast—at least not yet.
When the sandwiches were finished, Steven again turned his attention back to me. “Your cousin—Boris, I believe you said his name was—he must’ve eluded his killer and/or killers for quite some time.”
I held my guest’s hand in mine, his index finger rubbing my pinky as a spark shot through my nether regions. “And your point?”
The rubbing abruptly stopped. “He was clearly trained in your kind’s ways.”
I sighed at the implication. “And still he was murdered.”
His sigh was joined with a nod of his head. “Y
