"I'm sure he'll be finished any moment, darling." Regina smiled at her from the seat at her right. "He wouldn't want us to wait for him and let Tilda's delicious meal go cold."
At the head of the table, her father's chair sat empty. A place had been set for him, but the china and crystal were there only out of tradition; none of the Breed consumed human food or drink. Corinne made no move to begin eating. She stared at the vacant mahogany chair, trying to will Victor Bishop away from his business and out to his place as the provider - the protector - of his family.
"How about we start with some soup," Regina said, lifting the cover from the large silver tureen that sat on the table between them. Aromatic steam wafted up from the deep bowl. She dipped a ladle in, then served the soup to Corinne. "Doesn't it smell delicious? It's a very delicate beef consomme with shallots and wild mushrooms."
Corinne knew her mother was only trying to take care of her, trying to bring some sense of normalcy to a situation that was anything but normal. She watched her bone china bowl fill with savory soup and vegetables and she wanted to scream.
She couldn't eat right now. She couldn't do anything until she'd spoken with her father and heard him assure her that no one - not even a sadistic monster like Dragos - could keep her away from her child. Until she heard those words and was able to believe it was possible to find her son and bring him back, nothing else mattered.
"Maybe I should go talk to him in his study," she said, already scooting her chair out from the table and standing up.
Her mother put her spoon down, fine brows furrowing. "Darling, what's wrong - "
Corinne walked out of the dining room and across the foyer, hands fidgeting anxiously at her sides with each step.
As she neared the closed doors of Victor Bishop's private office, a sharp crash of breaking glass sounded from inside.
"Daddy?" Worry pierced her center. Corinne flattened her palm against the polished wood panels and gave a few raps on the door. They were panicky, hesitant smacks of her hand, a sudden dark fear washing over her. More sounds of struggle emanated from within - a rustle of falling papers, a muffled grunt. "Daddy, is everything okay?"
She tried the latch. Unlocked, thankfully. Her mother and a pair of her father's Darkhaven guards, Mason and another Breed male, were right behind her as she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
To her shock - to her utter confusion and disbelief - Victor Bishop had been tossed supine across the surface of his desk, now choking for breath beneath the crushing grip of the large hand clamped down like a vise on his throat. The person assaulting her father was the very last person Corinne had expected to see ever again.
"Hunter," she whispered, incredulous, terrified.
Her mother shrieked Victor's name, then broke down into a gusting sob. Behind Corinne, Mason and the other guard shifted warily. She felt their tension, sensed the two Breed males gauging their chances of drawing their weapons and disabling this unforeseen threat. They would never succeed.
Corinne saw the truth of it in Hunter's emotionless face. The look in his golden eyes was a chilling, lethal calm. Corinne saw in an instant that taking a life was something that gave this warrior no pause whatsoever. He had only to tighten his grip, just a cool flex of his strong fingers and he would crush the life from her father in a second's time.
Corinne's worry stabbed her, and in that instant of fright and concern, she felt a current of power stir deep inside her. It was her talent rising quietly, the low hum of sonokinetic energy that would permit her to grasp any sound and manipulate it to deafening heights. It prickled in her now, standing at the ready. But she couldn't risk it. Not with her father's throat caught fast in Hunter's grip.
When Mason inched slightly forward, more willing than she to test Hunter's intent, Corinne held him back with a faint shake of her head.
She was stunned, confused. What was Hunter doing back here at the Darkhaven? She didn't need to wonder how he got inside. The heavy drapery on the French doors of the study riffled in the wintry breeze coming in from outside. He had entered stealthily, an intruder with a single purpose - a single target - in mind.
"Why?" she murmured. "Hunter, what's this about?"
"Tell her." He turned that merciless gaze back onto her father. Victor Bishop sputtered, tried to claw at the unyielding grasp at his throat, but it was useless. His muscles slumped and his head fell back onto the desk with a spittle-laced, hopeless-sounding moan. Hunter barely blinked.
"Speak the truth, or I will kill you right here and now."
Corinne's pulse was ticking in her temples, fear twisting her insides. She didn't know what sparked the greater worry - the lethal threat to the Breed male who'd raised her, or the dread that was gnawing at the edges of her mind as she looked at Hunter and recognized that he was not a male to act rashly.
No, he was nothing if not deliberate. She hadn't known him very long, but Hunter carried himself with a cool, capable reserve that left no room for irrationality or mistakes. The fact that her father was in the crosshairs of this warrior's wrath put a knot in Corinne's gut. She had the deep, instinctual awareness that her world was about to crack open in front of her. She didn't think she could bear that, not after all she'd been through. Not after all she'd survived.
"No," she said, wanting to deny the feeling that was swamping her now. She clung to that denial, even though it felt as breakable as a thread in her grasp. "Please, Hunter ... don't do this. Please, let him go."
He cocked his head toward her slightly as she spoke. Something peculiar flashed through his gaze, a flicker of distraction. Perhaps a moment of doubt? But he made no move to release her father. Then his brows lowered into the faintest frown. "He knows what happened to you the night you disappeared. He's known all along that you'd been taken, and by whom. He knows much more than that."