hundred years now.” He tossed her a wink. “I should hope in that time he would share with me his undead state. Had he not, I would have been rather perplexed as I celebrated 100 years of age and still looked 45.”
Her eyes lit with understanding. “Oh! You’re his Puppet. I get it now.”
Drake could barely watch the oncoming train wreck as Robert cocked his silvered head and gave her a slight sneer. “I prefer to be called his Servio. That’s Latin for servant, Miss Tutoro,” he added when confusion marked her face yet again. “The youth’s derogatory term, Puppet, I happen to find rather offensive.”
Her eyes went straight to the floor, her shoulders shortly to follow. “I’m really sorry, Robert. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Miss, I know you young ones have your own terms for my half-breed status. I suppose you could think of this as a lesson. Now you have some etiquette to fall back on should you meet another half-breed who’s far older than yourself.” He turned and headed for the door. “Are you in need of anything else, Miss?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. Thanks for the food though.” She frowned as she watched him walk away, but just as he opened the door to leave, she raised her hand as if she’d forgotten something important. “Have a good night, Robert.”
He nodded as he pulled the door closed, a crooked smile etched into the wrinkles around his mouth. “You have a good night too, Miss Tutoro.”
Drake stood up when Toni looked at him with a raised brow. “You may have offended him, but it’s not often any vampire other than Locke takes the time to wish him a good night. Technically, Servios are beneath our fanged station. What you just witnessed was genuine shock and appreciation for you treating him like an equal. I think he likes you.”
Her eyes flicked back to the door. “It must be awful to spend hundreds of years getting treated like a lesser person just because he isn’t a vampire.” She narrowed her eyes on him again. “But you don’t treat him like that.”
“No, I don’t, and I never will. Like you said back at the elevator, Robert’s a really nice guy. Lord Locke’s lucky to have him.”
A slow smile curved her mouth, but then she blinked and shook her head. “I think I’m gonna go see if the tub has those jet thingies.” She only made it half way to the bathroom door before a loud beep sounded from the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks. “What was that?”
Drake chuckled. “Your food. Did you forget about it already?”
“No, of course not.” She rolled her eyes as she spun around and walked into the kitchen. “Because I’m just so used to blood coming in a convenient travel pack like beer. Silly me, what was I thinking?” She grabbed the bottle and held it out towards him. “You want some?”
He ignored the urge to give his own rendition of the gag face. “No thanks. I much prefer the fresh stuff.”
“Don’t say I didn’t offer to share,” she sang as she tucked the bottle under her arm, stooped to snag her duffle bag from the floor, and then disappeared into the bathroom.
And much to his chagrin, she closed the door behind her.
Drake grabbed another beer from the refrigerator then sank deep into the corner of the couch closest to the main door. He stared up at the ceiling as he opened the bottle and silently cursed whoever invented the doorbell for interrupting a fantastic moment. A moment that had completely broken the number two rule of a protection contract, never touch your mark, but one he’d gladly accept the punishment for if necessary.
Granted, he had no idea what the punishment would be, mainly because he’d never broken any of the rules before, but it couldn’t be that bad. After all, and much to their dismay, most of the methods The Organization employed in regard to punishment didn’t work on him anyway.
After swallowing a mouthful of his
Her eyes lit with understanding. “Oh! You’re his Puppet. I get it now.”
Drake could barely watch the oncoming train wreck as Robert cocked his silvered head and gave her a slight sneer. “I prefer to be called his Servio. That’s Latin for servant, Miss Tutoro,” he added when confusion marked her face yet again. “The youth’s derogatory term, Puppet, I happen to find rather offensive.”
Her eyes went straight to the floor, her shoulders shortly to follow. “I’m really sorry, Robert. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, Miss, I know you young ones have your own terms for my half-breed status. I suppose you could think of this as a lesson. Now you have some etiquette to fall back on should you meet another half-breed who’s far older than yourself.” He turned and headed for the door. “Are you in need of anything else, Miss?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. Thanks for the food though.” She frowned as she watched him walk away, but just as he opened the door to leave, she raised her hand as if she’d forgotten something important. “Have a good night, Robert.”
He nodded as he pulled the door closed, a crooked smile etched into the wrinkles around his mouth. “You have a good night too, Miss Tutoro.”
Drake stood up when Toni looked at him with a raised brow. “You may have offended him, but it’s not often any vampire other than Locke takes the time to wish him a good night. Technically, Servios are beneath our fanged station. What you just witnessed was genuine shock and appreciation for you treating him like an equal. I think he likes you.”
Her eyes flicked back to the door. “It must be awful to spend hundreds of years getting treated like a lesser person just because he isn’t a vampire.” She narrowed her eyes on him again. “But you don’t treat him like that.”
“No, I don’t, and I never will. Like you said back at the elevator, Robert’s a really nice guy. Lord Locke’s lucky to have him.”
A slow smile curved her mouth, but then she blinked and shook her head. “I think I’m gonna go see if the tub has those jet thingies.” She only made it half way to the bathroom door before a loud beep sounded from the kitchen. She stopped dead in her tracks. “What was that?”
Drake chuckled. “Your food. Did you forget about it already?”
“No, of course not.” She rolled her eyes as she spun around and walked into the kitchen. “Because I’m just so used to blood coming in a convenient travel pack like beer. Silly me, what was I thinking?” She grabbed the bottle and held it out towards him. “You want some?”
He ignored the urge to give his own rendition of the gag face. “No thanks. I much prefer the fresh stuff.”
“Don’t say I didn’t offer to share,” she sang as she tucked the bottle under her arm, stooped to snag her duffle bag from the floor, and then disappeared into the bathroom.
And much to his chagrin, she closed the door behind her.
Drake grabbed another beer from the refrigerator then sank deep into the corner of the couch closest to the main door. He stared up at the ceiling as he opened the bottle and silently cursed whoever invented the doorbell for interrupting a fantastic moment. A moment that had completely broken the number two rule of a protection contract, never touch your mark, but one he’d gladly accept the punishment for if necessary.
Granted, he had no idea what the punishment would be, mainly because he’d never broken any of the rules before, but it couldn’t be that bad. After all, and much to their dismay, most of the methods The Organization employed in regard to punishment didn’t work on him anyway.
After swallowing a mouthful of his
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