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Scarlet sings as she slips over the threshold, trading the last of the moonlight for the glow of electricity. “Checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo, reminds me that there’s time to grow . . .” She adds a quick cha-cha only to stop mid cha and shove the bag she carries behind her back. 

Kelly waits under the crystalline shimmering of the chandelier.

“What’s up?” Scarlet tries a smile. “Besides you and why are you still up this late anyway? After a few hundred years, I think I’ve figured out the putting myself to bed thing.”

He doesn’t answer. 

The too-slender seneschal stands at the foot of the staircase, angular face still, so quiet that even the shadows avoid him. His mood is the polar opposite of his normal laughing irreverence

Scarlet eyes him warily. She flashes the discreet logo of the exclusive shoe store so it glitters like a rhinestone bracelet.

Still no response.

Uh-oh.

Scarlet abandons the bag and springs over the terracotta tiles. “Kel?”

Three-inch heels put Scarlet’s eyes level with his chin. She tips her head back, snaps her fingers to break the trance or whatever is affecting her steward.

“That’s very annoying,” Kelly says quietly.

Scarlet pats his chest, measuring the steady bump of his heart. “We all have our special skills.”

Kelly catches her wrist, holds her a little away from him. 

“Yeah, they make the world an interesting place, don’t they?” Kelly nods. “Well, tonight the world got really interesting.”

Scarlet breaks his hold and steps back so she could take in all of him, expands her assessment to the foyer. She breathes deep, catching a trace of vanilla; a hint of sulphur . . . can’t place it. “Is anything broken?”

Kelly ignores the question and folds his arms. “We had visitors tonight.”

“How lovely.” Scarlet turns a circle, trying to trace the origins of the scent. “Shame I missed them.”

“They were lovely,” Kelly muses. “Deadly. You’d have got along well.”