The Knight of Slaughtaverty

Chapter 12 - Making Wise Decisions

I already feel as though I'm keeping way too close to him just by being in this mansion with him. I've never experienced another person's presence in such an overwhelming way. I don't feel half as invaded when Ransford grins at me and says flirty things or... steals cream from my lips as I feel when Alaric just glances at me with those polished pewter eyes of his.

"I suffer from a severe lack of oxygen when he's around! I'll die of suffocation! That's not safe!" Every health and safety book and article on this planet suggests that breathing is essential for survival.

To be absolutely honest, I don't feel particularly unsafe around him either, and I do have a rather disturbing memory of calling out his name when I was terrified in my dream. Saying his name made the dream stop. Probably because I produced some sound, and it woke me up just enough to stop seeing long-dead men hovering above me, gazing into my eyes.

I nearly jump from my seat when the subject of my thoughts enters the office and strides to his desk. He doesn't look at me. He doesn't say a word. He sits on the chair with his back to the window and resumes working on his laptop, as if he isn't even aware of me hiding behind my screen, trying to remember how to breathe. 

See?! Not safe at all!

Did he scold Ransford for showing me the tunnels in the walls? That was a risky thing to do; I'm pretty sure that showing me that they exist does not serve the Slatherty code of secrecy and mystery. I cannot imagine anybody scolding Ransford, though. I get the feeling that he has never in his entire life not done exactly as he pleases with little regard to rules and regulations.

I also cannot imagine anybody telling Alaric what to do and what not to do... If someone tried it with Ransford, he would scoff at them and do exactly what he wants to while smiling like an angel as their head explodes. Alaric will incinerate them with his eyes before they can even finish their sentence. How wonderful!

"I love my job!"

"I'm glad to hear that."

I glance up, startled to hear Alaric mutter, but all his attention is focused on his screens. Perhaps he wasn't speaking to me. I don't have his super-powers of concentration. Try as I may, I cannot focus on my spreadsheet and the data I'm attempting to accumulate and capture; besides, I feel dirty after my lunchtime adventure, and I need to clean these small puncture holes in my shoulder before they become infected. Who knows where that woman's nails have been? I didn't think to show them to Ransford, and there is no way I'm showing them to Alaric.

I have to go to my room; there's no other way.

Taking a deep breath, I pack my laptop and phone and their chargers into the laptop bag and get to my feet, considering for exactly 0.342 seconds to ask Alaric to go to my room with me and keep watch while I shower and change and... then what?! I'm sure that would go down really well, and I can think of nothing more fun than hanging out in my room with him... except maybe having a root canal... without anaesthetics. 

I have a car at my disposal; perhaps I should move to the Three Barrel and One... or whatever... permanently and only come here by day like Diarmuid.

"Fat lot that is going to help!"

The woman came at me in the middle of the day, and my job involves exploring rooms, cataloguing and appraising everything in them. I cannot just show up for a few hours every day and spend all of them here in the office... close to Alaric... where, if I'm honest, I don't expect strange people to attack me. When he is around, he's the scariest thing in the room. Always!

"Excuse me?"

I freeze on my way past his desk, clutching my laptop bag to my chest as if it could possibly shield me against the effect of his proximity when I turn to see him looking up at me with a completely unreadable expression. I'm once again wondering about the possibility that he has mind-reading abilities.