He pointed downstairs. “I’ll go fix you that steak while you get dressed.”

“I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

He turned to go and then stopped. “I took the liberty of feeding Captain this morning as well. I hope that was all right.”

“Thank you. That was nice of—what did you feed him?”

Stanhill suddenly seemed very interested in the cuff of his shirt. “Nothing much. There was a little crabmeat left over from the mushrooms, so…”

“You keep that up, and he’s not going to eat his kibble.” She shook her head as Stanhill left. No wonder Captain hadn’t been asleep on the bed next to her when she’d woken up. He was probably passed out in some hideaway, sleeping off the catch of the day.

She cranked on the shower. Hugh would be back from his brother’s soon. Which meant the last step in her transformation was only a matter of hours away. Anticipation tripped along her skin, the kind of feeling she used to get right before a big test in school.

Except this time, the consequences of failing were fatal.

She jumped into the shower. “That isn’t going to happen.”

Hugh had it all worked out. The extra magic would protect her. She’d be fine. Dwelling on it wasn’t going to do her any good anyway, and knowing Hugh, he’d be worried enough for the both of them.

Determined to put on a happy, confident face, she showered and got dressed, then went downstairs to see what Stanhill had fixed for her.

The meal he’d laid out was enough to feed two, but she ate it all and still felt like she had room in her stomach.

She pressed a hand to her belly as he took her plate. His brows lifted. “Everything all right?”

“I can’t believe I ate all that.”

“Your body needs the energy. And like I said, your metabolism burns at a much higher rate now. It will be almost impossible to gain weight as a rook or vampire.”

She shook her head. “Kind of a dream come true for someone who likes sweets as much as I do. Speaking of, where’s that chocolate cake I made?”

“Coming right up.” He fixed her a large slice with whipped cream.

She made a sound of pleasure after the first bite. “I hope it’s not bad manners to think your own food is so delicious, but seriously, that’s what chocolate cake should taste like.”

He cut a piece for himself and joined her at the table. “You’re very talented with sweets.”

She shrugged. “You know what they say, if you find something you enjoy doing, it’s not really work. I love creating all those wonderful things. Not to make it sound all lofty and important, but it kind of feels like art to me.”

“I’d agree. What you do with sugar and eggs and chocolate? Definitely worthy of being admired.”

“Actually, what I like best about it is making people happy. My mom was a baker. She made cakes, never had a shop, just did it out of our house. Until she got sick.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Cancer.” She told him about her dad and how’d he left and remarried, and how she’d told him off at the wedding.

Stanhill scowled. “Sounds like the right bastard deserved it. Good for you.”

“It wasn’t my finest hour, but he did sort of deserve it. He really let us down.” She poked at the cake with her fork. “Did you have family that you had to leave behind when Hugh made you a rook?”

“My family was all in service at different households. My mum and dad were taken by the plague. My older sister was in France. She was a ladies’ maid and traveling with the family she served.” He stared at his plate. “I saw her once after I was turned. Tried to explain what happened, but she didn’t want anything to do with me.”

He smiled weakly. “That was centuries ago. Water under the bridge, as it were.”

“Is it hard?”

“What’s that, love?”

“Outliving your friends?”

He nodded, then stopped. “It was at first. But since we’ve been here, not so much. That’s why there are so many supernatural folk here. Like kind and all that. Most of ’em tend to have much longer lifespans than your average human. Makes things easier.”

“That’s good.”

“It is.”

She pushed her plate away. “I’m going out to the garden. Enjoy the last bit of sun while I can. Do you have any idea where Captain is? I thought I might take him out there with me.”

“Last I saw he was headed into the living room. I put his new cat bed in there.”

She stared at Stanhill. “You bought him a cat bed?”

“Three, actually. There’s one in the library and one in Hugh’s sitting room.”

She laughed. “I’m glad you like him so much. Makes me feel good.”

“He’s a sweet creature.”

With a smile, she wandered into the living room and found Captain curled up in his new bed, which looked to be burgundy velvet with gold trim. “Fit for a prince,” she muttered.

She scooped him up and sniffed his toasty head, all warm from sleep. “Let’s go get some fresh air, Cappy.”

Sunlight and gentle breezes spilled through the garden. Flowers were in fragrant bloom, and the soft buzz of insects sounded like a chorus. To her amped-up senses, it was a wonderland. She put Captain down to roam. He immediately began stalking something in the tall, feathery grasses that bordered a small pond in the back.