House of Cards by Ilana Waters Read Free Book Online Page A

been doing anything wrong. She’d just been going home from her job, like always. Millions of people all over the world did that and never got kidnapped . . . or killed. The expensive carpet was growing damp with Sherry’s tears, but she didn’t care. She hoped her mascara would get all over and ruin it. It would serve them right. She was only eighteen, for God’s sake! That was far, far too young to die.
    “I’m not ready,” she whispered to herself, her fist against the carpet. “I’m just not ready .” There was so much she wanted to see and do. And now she might not get to do anything, all because of a tiny group of loathsome, selfish people. Sherry lay on the floor and cried until she couldn’t cry anymore.
    Eventually, she forced herself to sit up and pull her knees to her chest. She stayed like that for a long time, thinking. Better get yourself together, Sherry, she decided. Crying certainly wasn’t going to help. Besides, who knew what would happen in the future? Even psychics and fortune-tellers weren’t able to predict everything , she reasoned. By some miracle, things might still turn out all right. After all, she’d been saved by that boy. At least it was a start. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and turned back to the treasure chest. She gently closed the lid, shivering at the thought of the victims’ misfortune.
    Wait. No. She was just plain shivering. The room was freezing cold. She hadn’t noticed it before, probably because the adrenaline coursing through her veins had kept her warm. Now that she was standing here, clothing drenched in perspiration, Sherry could really feel the chill. And she couldn’t go around smelling like a dirty pig. Vampire noses were probably more sensitive than those of humans. She didn’t want to offend them. And she really didn’t want to stink, just on principle.
    There was a white door on the other side of the room—maybe that was the lavatory. She definitely needed to bathe. Making sure the locking bar was across the bedroom door, she stripped off her clothing. Of course, they could probably just ram the door down, if what she’d heard about a vampire’s superior strength was true. But Lucas at least might have the courtesy to knock. Hopefully.
    She quickly built a fire in the fireplace to warm things up. There was a comforting sound to the crisp crackling of burning logs, as the flames danced and sparks occasionally popped out from under them. She took off her old clothes and left them in a pile on the floor. She had no idea what she’d wear after cleaning herself up.
    She sighed. Forget about clothes for now. She’d figure that out later. She picked up one of the smaller candelabras, walked across the bedchamber, and opened the white door.
    Well, Sherry thought as she entered, they’d brought the eighteenth century into the drawing room and a medieval castle into the “dining” room. Apparently, the bathroom was reserved for Versailles.
    It was nearly the size of the bedroom, and the bathtub nearly the size of the king-size bed. The tub looked as deep as the shallow end of a swimming pool, and was surrounded by four enormous stone pillars. Blue-green mosaic tile covered the entire floor and all four walls, like a Roman bath. Motifs and patterns of painstaking detail graced almost every surface. Pictures of fish, oceans, and gardens whispered veritable stories in broken pieces of pottery. Sherry once again marveled at the extraordinary time and patience it must have taken to accomplish this level of artistry. And all for a bathroom!
    If she’d been worried the smaller mirror in the bedroom wasn’t enough to serve her needs, her mind was put to rest here. Mirrors covered an entire wall of the room, flecked with gold veins. The countertops, including the one used as a dressing table, were solid marble. The sinks—two of them—were amazing as well. Painted in minute floral patterns, they exhibited a dizzying array of colors. Almost too pretty to