I woke the next morning to the sound of raised voices echoing through the corridors of the Silverstone estate. After the emotional turmoil of last night's interrupted encounter with Damon, I had barely slept, tossing and turning as my mind replayed his words about keeping me safe from dangers I couldn't imagine.
Now, as I sat up in bed listening to the commotion downstairs, it seemed those dangers might be arriving sooner than expected.
"Sir, I must insist that you wait in the formal parlor while I announce your arrival," I heard Harrison's voice, strained with the kind of diplomatic tension that came from dealing with unwelcome but powerful guests.
"I don't need to be announced in my daughter's home," came the reply, and my blood turned to ice.
Victor. Victor was here.
I threw on a silk robe and crept to my bedroom door, opening it just enough to hear the conversation taking place in the main foyer below.
