Bite Of The Past (The Black Fan Book 1)

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Bite Of The Past (The Black Fan Book 1) Page 8

by Laura Greenwood


  "We should talk about something," he suggests, probably sensing how jittery I am right now.

  I flash him a weak smile, trying to cover my alarm at how much of his face I can see despite the street lamps no longer being on. We're in that weird time where most vampires have already ended their day and retreated inside, and the humans are yet to start theirs.

  "What do you want to talk about?" Despite my nerves, my voice comes out steady and flawless, no doubt due to the countless flattering lies I've had to tell over the years.

  He chuckles. "I have no idea. But won't it look suspicious if we don't?"

  "At this time, I think breathing is suspicious," I mutter.

  "Did you always used to be this cynical?"

  "If I did, then we wouldn't have been caught in bed together," I point out.

  "Maybe you were having a particularly reckless week."

  I snort and lean into him. Our arms brush as we walk, a little slower than I'd like, but as fast as we dare.

  "Next time I see my Father, I'll try suggesting that one. Maybe he'll finally forgive me."

  "Have you heard from him?"

  "Never." Bitterness threads through my voice. "And I don't expect him to either. If he's even still alive." He probably is. Father is nothing if not resourceful. He'll outlive every other vampire in existence, and some that aren't even born.

  "I'm sorry..."

  "Don't be," I counter. "If I'd stayed at court, I'd have ended up married to a man I barely knew and miserable for it. I could have done what Mother suggested and have someone on the side, but it would never have made me happy."

  "I'm glad you..."

  A loud siren cuts him off, making both of us jump.

  "Was that..."

  "The dawn siren?" I finish for him. "I think so. Though I've never heard it while outside before." A shiver runs down my spine at what that means. "We need to get back."

  Which is going to be hard when we're still so far away. Every minute is going to matter right now.

  "Is there any chance it's gone off early?" Benedict asks.

  "There's more chance that it's gone off late," I counter. It's a constant worry of mine, and I enforce shut down on the Black Fan based on the reported times of dawn and dusk, not based on the siren. I don't trust that the Mayor won't sound them at the wrong time just to mess with people.

  We hasten our pace, but don't run. That will only draw attention to us. And while the vampire guard of the city are likely to already be at home, the human-run patrols are just as vicious, if not more so. As far as I'm aware, they're promised extra protections if they take part in the city's policing.

  Shouts come from a street up ahead, and I freeze in place.

  "We need to go, Catherine," Benedict reminds me.

  I shake my head. "We have to find another way."

  "We don't have time," he reminds me. "No one will bother us if we act like we belong."

  I bite my lip, trying to decide which I'm more scared of, the Mayor's guards, or the sun. At least the latter gives me a chance to choose how I'm going to die.

  I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the uncomfortable thoughts I'm having.

  Walk with purpose. That's all I have to do. No one will think twice about it. We could just be on our way back from a party...

  "Act drunk," I whisper hastily. "When we go past them."

  Understanding dawns on Benedict's face. He puts an arm around my shoulders, hanging over me in a way I find over casual, but is probably about right for someone who has had too much to drink.

  I lean into him, drawing strength from his closeness.

  All we have to do is get past the group of four guards I can now see in front of us on the street, and turn the corner, then we'll be back at the Black Fan. It's not far. The sun won't get us. Probably. There's more light than I'm comfortable with, but there's nothing I can do about that other than continue forward with confidence. If we don't do this, then we'll be toast. Literally.

  Benedict begins to sing under his breath, an old courting song I barely remember the words to. I mumble along, knowing it'll help keep up the pretence.

  My blood races as we pass the four men, and I'm certain one of them can sense the way I'm feeling. But no. That isn't possible. Even if one of the supernatural races can sense emotions, they're not going to be in the city any more. They're all long gone. I don't think any of them are left within the walls at all. And if they are, they're so far in hiding that no one realises they're more than humans.

  I push the thought from my mind. None of that makes a difference to me, and I'm not about to pretend it's ever going to.

  The urge to straighten up and stop acting the part overtakes me, but I do my best to ignore it. I don't think any of the guards are suspicious about the two of us, but if they are, then they'll surely be watching to see if we change what we're doing.

  I don't let out a breath until we've turned the corner and are out of sight.

  "That was awful," I whisper.

  "It wasn't great."

  My hand starts to tingle, and my whole body warms. It takes me a moment to realise what's happening. Even after five hundred years of going around and being a vampire, I haven't had much experience with the sun.

  That's all about to change.

  "We need to get inside," I say, already tugging on Benedict's hand.

  It no longer matters if anyone notices us acting suspicious, if we don't get inside now, we're going to be too dead to question. And once the shutters and doors are barred on the Black Fan, we'll have hours to come up with some kind of explanation for why we're outside.

  Next time we help someone escape, I want all of this planned out in advance. Preferably with some better timings and arrangements for getting back to the brothel. Cars aren't an option, they draw too much attention within the city walls, but there has to be something.

  My feet pound against the ground as we race towards my building. I don't think I've run this fast since I was a little girl playing chase with the other noble children. I don't let go of Benedict's hand. I don't dare. One thing has only become more certain tonight, I don't want to live without him.

  Ever.

  Which means getting him to safety as much as it means doing it for me.

  My braid bounces against the small of my back. It may keep my hair neat and out of the way, but I wish it was loose right now. It may help protect my neck against the rising sun. I'm hotter than I've ever been in my life, and I have no doubt about the cause. It's only a matter of minutes before we both start to properly burn.

  But the welcoming door of the brothel is in front of us seconds later. I don't waste a second shoving the key into the lock and turning it.

  "Close the door," I instruct Benedict, already rushing over to the reception desk and the tablet waiting there. A couple of moments later, the whirring sound of the shutters snapping into place fills the room.

  I sigh with relief. Almost not believing we're away from the powerful rays of the sun.

  Laughter bubbles up within me, then bursts free, filling the silence. It only takes a moment, but Benedict joins in, chuckling away. The stress leaves us both, making its way out into the air around us. At least, that's what I think it is. I can't say I've had many laughing fits after almost being burned to a crisp before.

  Our merriment subsides, and the two of us grow more serious again.

  "I'm sorry things didn't go to plan," Benedict says softly, hanging his head a little.

  My eyes widen. Is that what he thinks happened?

  I stride across the room, closing the small space between us so we can be close to one another. I reach out and cup his cheek in my hand.

  "It went perfectly to plan," I point out. "Maddy and Mills are safely on their way to the closest vampire den outside the city, and we're here, not outside becoming vampire BBQ."

  He snorts. "I don't think we'd be very tasty."

  "You don't know that," I counter. "I'm sure we'd be delicious to the rats."<
br />
  Benedict grimaces. "I hate rats," he mutters.

  A genuine laugh escapes me this time, not one born out of nervous frustration or excitement.

  "I love you," I say, surprising both of us. We both know it's how I feel, but I expected it to take me longer to admit it. No doubt Benedict feels the same about it. I haven't exactly been the most welcoming to him recently.

  "I love you too," he responds instantly. "I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

  "Me neither."

  An undefined emotion crosses his face. "I'm serious, Catherine," he vows. "I lost you once. I never want to go through that pain again. I'm not the same man I was before. I thought I was a better one, but you showed me how wrong I was. There's only one thing in this world that makes me a better person, and that's you. I want to stand by your side and help you get whatever it is that your heart desires the most."

  I let his words sink in, feeling the truth of them with every fibre of my being. And knowing the same is true for me. Until he got here, I was content coasting through, telling myself that just by giving some people a better life, I was doing a good thing. But he's made me realise that's not enough. I have to do better.

  "Then you can do something for me," I respond after a moment.

  "Anything," he promises.

  "Kiss me."

  A smile breaks out over his face. "I thought you'd never ask."

  He leans in and presses his lips against mine, gentle at first, but after a moment, he deepens the kiss. I lean into him, desperate for more. There's something about this moment which grounds me. It gives life a new meaning, but only because I know the two of us can do great things together.

  It's taken five hundred years for me to get this kiss, and surprisingly, the wait was worth it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Benedict sets down a goblet of blood next to my hand, then kisses the side of my head gently.

  "You're going to need your strength," he says.

  I groan, thinking about the night ahead and dreading it already. The only advantage of another invitation to one of the Mayor's parties is that no one has worked out what we did to help get Maddy and Mills out of the city. Hopefully, someone will have thought to tell the Mayor that Mills was incinerated by the sun during his capture. If there's no body, then there's no evidence that any crime was committed. I don't think we'll be able to sneak people of Mills' position out of the city again. And if we do, then it won't be very often. Too many eyes are on them all the time, and I don't think any of us want that kind of scrutiny.

  "We'll have to go for lower profile people next time," I muse aloud.

  "Next time?" Benedict raises an eyebrow, something I can only see due to the ornate mirror in front of me.

  "Oh, erm. When we help someone else get out of the city," I admit sheepishly. Had I not told him that's what I want to do? I should have been clear on that one.

  "Ah, I see. I wondered when you'd bring that up."

  I turn around in my seat, my skirts rustling as I do. "You expected me to want to get more people out of the city?"

  He chuckles, a good-natured smile on his face. "I'd have been more surprised if we'd gone through another couple of decades without you mentioning it at all," he says. "But yes, I definitely expected you to want to do it again. It's in your nature to help people, Catherine. You told me that yourself."

  I close my eyes at the sound of my name, loving the way he makes it sound.

  "But I also know that you didn't before because you didn't have a way out of the city safely. But that's where I come in..."

  "Did you know?" I blurt.

  "Know what?" He cocks his head to the side.

  I gesture to one of the spare chairs, and he takes a seat next to me at my dressing table. I should have a more comfortable seating arrangement set up in my private chambers for the two of us. Up until recently, I've always relished my chambers being a private place I can come for peace and quiet. Centuries of working in one brothel or another have led to a real desire for alone time.

  "That you were going to present me with a way out of the city so I can help people. As a kind of gift." I shrug.

  I'm not sure how likely what I'm suggesting is. Benedict knows me surprisingly well for someone who hasn't been around me for so many years. But I don't think he could have predicted this part of how I've changed. It's too drastic. I was so young when we met, and more importantly, just as young when we were torn apart.

  "No, the only present I came with was the gift of me," he quips.

  As he intends, I laugh.

  "And love spoons," I remind him, reaching out to touch the one I've placed on my dressing table. I haven't decided what to do with the other four-hundred-and-ninety-nine, but this one is special.

  "That's the one you kept out?" he asks, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

  "Yes."

  "There are so many nicer ones," he counters.

  "But this is the first." Each time I notice the imperfections of the carving, my heart swells and I find myself falling in love with Benedict that little bit more. As if that's possible.

  His eyes light up, revealing just how happy he is by my reasoning, even if he won't admit it.

  "You're a unique woman," he says instead.

  "Absolutely. I'm one of a kind," I agree. Though everything about my upbringing was designed to counter that and squash down the differences which make me special. Father discarding me may have been the best thing for me, in the end.

  "And I wouldn't want you any other way," he assures me."

  "That's good, because I'm not about to change for anyone."

  "Which is why you want to be part of the railroad out of here."

  "I think being part of it would imply that there are other people doing it," I point out, knowing full well there aren't any others. I'd have heard about them by now. Everything gets back to my ears. It's one of the advantages of running a high-end brothel. Men talk when their heads are resting on pillows. And courtesans report back to the person who employs them.

  Which is something I can use to my advantage. I'll know if anyone gets wind of what we're up to. In theory. Perhaps there are even a few people I can call in favours from. Though I won't ever tell them what it's for.

  Loyalty can be bought here. And it often is in the form of secrets.

  "Are you sure you want me to stay?" Benedict asks, his tone turning serious and breaking me from my thoughts.

  I cock my head to the side and study him intently. "Why wouldn't I?"

  He shrugs. "Perhaps you're not ready to forgive me..."

  I rise to my feet and close the gap between us. I lean down and press a swift kiss against his lips.

  "I've forgiven you five hundred times over."

  "One for every year?" A small smile twists at his lips.

  "Exactly." I kiss him again. "But most of that forgiveness is from the past couple of days," I admit.

  "When you realised you can't live without me?" he teases.

  I straighten and raise an eyebrow. "I can live without you," I assure him. "I've been doing it for the past five hundred years."

  He stares up at me, unable to think of anything to say.

  "But I don't want to live without you."

  "Is there a difference?" he asks.

  "Yes."

  He nods. "Then I'll be honoured to spend the rest of my days with you."

  "Even though this city might get you killed?" I ask.

  "Especially because of that. It'll make each night I get to spend with you more magical than the last."

  A small part of me swoons at his words.

  "We could die," I warn, feeling the need to drive the point home.

  "Without you, I'd be dying every day."

  I chuckle. "You're laying it on thick now."

  "I'm making up for lost time," he counters.

  "Hmm. Maybe you can do that in other ways..." I suggest, glancing over at my bed.

  A wicked grin spreads over hi
s face. "I thought you had a party to go to?"

  "I do. But it doesn't start for another hour or so. There's time," I promise, reaching out my hand to him.

  He takes it, and rises to his feet, then tugs me into his arms.

  I crash against his chest, enjoying the strength I can feel there. Nothing compares to the sensation of being so close to Benedict. I wish I hadn't lost those five hundred years, but at least it's changing now.

  His lips are on mine within a moment, and I melt into him, glad we can finally get some time to reconnect.

  With Benedict back in my life, and a new purpose in helping people get out of the city, I finally feel as if things are falling into place.

  Epilogue

  A few months later...

  * * *

  I pace back and forth, hating the wait more than normal. There's always a chance the people we're trying to smuggle out of the city aren't going to show up, but that's made all the harder by the knowledge that two of the three people we're supposed to be getting out won't be coming at all. Only an orphan is going to show up.

  And to make things worse, Benedict is still out with the other people we're helping tonight. I wish he was back already. It would be so much easier to deal with this with him by my side.

  The door opens and a young man steps in, his face expressionless.

  I wish there was more I could do. But getting him out of the city so he can start a new life is a good start.

  "Your mother sent word you'd be joining us," I say sadly, my heart hurting for a woman I've never even met. She was so close to getting free of the city.

  But I can't think about that now. I need to focus on getting the scared boy in front of me. He can't be any more than eighteen.

  "She's dead," he says, his voice barely containing any emotion. He's probably in shock.

 

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