The moment it occurred to her that leaving one more message on Zaviar’s answering machine was utterly pointless and therefore a complete waste of her time, Madeleine had quite literally run to get herself washed and changed before driving herself – and, reluctantly, Althea – to his house. She hardly had the patience to actually wait between her earlier calls, no one should have found it surprising that she would just go ahead and replace the constant ringing with her actual presence. Oh, and she sincerely, sincerely hoped that her cousin was still out and about, pretending to be a pillar of bloody society, because god help him if he tried to get between her and getting her foot past the door. Alternatively, he was welcome to try. It wasn’t as though anyone was paying attention to this end of town at the moment at any rate—And Althea, if you don’t move faster, I will turn you into boots. I swear I will. ‘I’ll tell Zaviar you said—Fine. Just stop tapping your foot, it’s giving me a headache.’ The snake’s input went ignored as Madeleine sailed into the house, ignoring the resident who had stopped to open the door. No, she didn’t think Zaviar would appreciate threats made regarding turning snakes into any kind of accessory unless it involved murder. What she refused to say was that she hoped to god that he was alive for Althea to repeat it to. She actually did not know what she would do if—‘There is no if,’ Althea stated calmly. Admittedly, she didn’t know how else to convey that fact – and it was a fact as she saw it. Because Knight was right there and he would know.
Circling to seat herself on the sofa, Madeleine shifted a touch uncomfortably despite her urge to run and set fire to Antonin’s room. Strangely, it didn’t feel right being in Zaviar’s house just then without him being there. Without knowing where he is. He had been gone too long, she had left too many messages, too many people from that wreckage would honestly never be found again. The beginnings of a very genuine ‘what if?’ had started forever ago as far as she was concerned. Cold fingers that started as a lump in her throat and slowly reached out as if to choke her. Legs crossed impatiently, her foot tapped out an irritated beat in the air. It wasn’t just that creeping doubt, it was the fear that the bloody ridiculous doubt might be the truth. Madeleine Gray had never worn fear well in any capacity. For starters, it found the end of her tether far too quickly. It was usually tied to her temper. Smoothing her hair back, flames erupted in short bursts from the palm of her free hand. The sofa felt uncomfortable. ‘Someone is coming,’ Althea declared. Madeleine arched an eyebrow in the direction of the door. If that was Antonin she was going to burn him ali—‘Knight’s behaviour would suggest otherwise.’ Nevertheless, the bursts of flame – and the glare that had developed – would continue until she had a face to go with the barking, et cetera.
Zaviar. Madeleine suddenly felt her shoulders drop as she released the breath she was annoyed she’d been holding. She was not running over there like the love struck damsel from those ridiculous films. He had terrified her and that was unforgiveable. ‘You keep telling yourself that.’ It really was not made better the moment she heard her own messages played back. At all. “That’s self-evident, given that I couldn’t find you either,” she managed to say civilly, uncrossing her legs and standing. “The other messages are much the same, so feel free to delete en masse.” That was a little less civil, her temper surfacing just a touch—but he’d frightened her and nobody did that. “Now what happened, where were you, are you alright and how dare you scare me like that, Zaviar Abdella!” Since stamping would have hurt and possibly ruined her shoes, she was settling for balling her fists and not setting him on fire. Releasing another breath, she looked him over properly and her eyes immediately widened. “Good god, what happened? Are you alright?” She was angry, yes, but she didn’t ever want him to be hurt.