Chapter Eleven
IT’S BEEN AGES since he’s had a nightmare, but he has one that night. As usual, he doesn’t tell me what it’s about. Maybe he doesn’t even remember, but he does wake up screaming, reaching for me. I hold him until he stops shaking and eventually goes back to sleep, but I don’t—sleep, that is.
For several long minutes, I reacquaint myself with the feel of his sleeping body in my arms, something so easily overlooked in the chaos of day to day. I try to remember the novelty of sleeping beside him, such a blessed thrill on my island of exile months ago. It’s still novel now, this being in love, so much so that my chest feels too small and my cock fills up.
He wakes with his member in my mouth, my name on his lips. He comes quickly and rests his hands in my hair. “What was that for?”
I kiss up his inner thigh. “I need a reason?”
“No.” He chuckles. “Feel free anytime. Do you need—”
“Go back to sleep.”
He lifts his head, but I can’t see his expression in the dark. “Are you well?”
“Yes.” I run my hands up over his hips. “Just love you is all.”
“Love you too.” And back to sleep he goes.
EDMUND AND MICHELLE have been locked away in the Heavenhill library for almost an hour, and I can’t stop pacing. What is it she wanted to talk to him about anyway, and why couldn’t I be present? I already spent a bit of time with Hallie, inquiring into Evelyn’s condition. I had to pretend to eat a biscuit. Poor woman probably thinks she’s a terrible cook, the way we avoid her food.
I haven’t seen Patricia, although there was a dour priest in the foyer, sprinkling holy water. I wonder if he was trying to exorcise us.
I cuss when Felipe appears beside me, sneaky ass. He yawns and ties his hair behind his head with a red ribbon. “You look like a gargoyle in need of a perch.”
I ignore him.
“I hear things got a bit wild last night.”
I open and close my fists. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?” He clicks his tongue. “Our dear Edmund nearly killed a man. Wish I could have watched.” He pauses. “Did it make you hard?”
“No.”
He presses indecently against the front of his breeches. “I imagine I would have been hard as rock, seeing those pretty fists doling out moral retribution. Did you know his calluses are gone?”
“Of course I know.” I turn to stare into his dark eyes, twinkling with amusement. “Jesus, Felipe, why are you baiting me into an argument?”
“Because I’m bored.” He groans. “We traveled across a fucking ocean, had one night in the city, and have been trapped in this gloomy countryside ever since. Granted, Flynn and I were quite acrobatic last night.”
“You can’t walk around the house nude.”
Felipe snorts. “God, that blonde bitch. I thought she was going to just die. Wouldn’t have minded. Put her out of her misery.”
For a moment, my mind leaves the library. “You think her miserable?”
“People that unpleasant always are. They’re disappointed by life, so they act cruel in order to make other people miserable too. The last thing they want is to be surrounded by happiness, or God forbid, fun.” He glances left and right, the shadows painting his cheekbones into cliffs. “But really, why are you standing out here? It’s an odd place to stand.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought you would know. Michelle wanted a word alone with Edmund.”
He howls like a ghost before laughing. “Oh, is the sweet sailor in trouble? I wonder what his punishment will be? I’d be happy to give him a spanking.”
I clear my throat.
“Relax, you fool. She adores him almost as much as you do. Meanwhile, here I am getting nothing but scraps while Edmund has all the fun.”
“He’s not having fun here, Felipe.”
“Yes, poor mummy dearest.” He tugs at his lace cuffs. “Do you suppose she and the blonde woman are sapphists?”
I almost laugh at the absurdity of that statement, but the library door opens and Edmund hasn’t been destroyed. He seems relieved, actually, with his arm around Michelle’s small shoulders. He smiles and kisses her forehead before noticing us.
“Eavesdropping?” He winks.
I sigh out a relieved breath.
Michelle’s forehead wrinkles. “God, Andrew, what did you think I would do to him?”
I lower my brows, and her eyes light with understanding. Right, that whole exile thing.
“Oh,” she says. “Well.” She pats Edmund’s arm. “He said we could go riding, Felipe. Shall we?”
“Just what I need. Another wicked creature between my legs. Speaking of, I quite imagine Flynn will sleep the day away.”
Michelle takes Felipe’s outstretched hand, and they walk together down the hall, painted grey by another day of clouds.
I put my hand on Edmund’s shoulder. Before I can utter a word, he says, “I’m fine.”
“What did you speak about?”
“Everything. Nothing. I think she wanted to check in.”
“Edmund?”
His fingers reach out and play with a button on my coat. “She…wanted to make sure I was okay.”
Then, it hits me. I close my eyes and remember Brien’s wrath from the night before. “She wanted to make sure I wasn’t hurting you.”
He chews his bottom lip. “I promised her you weren’t.”
I pull him to me, my nose in his hair. “And here I thought you were in trouble.”
He laughs against my shoulder. “Well. She knows how newborn vampires can be, so she understood last night’s behavior—with a caveat. It’s not to happen again.”
“Which part?”
“I am not to feed in anger. We all know I have a bit of a temper.”
I run my hands up and down his back. “I think that’s fair.”
“Mm.”
“Now.” I pull back and tug playfully at a curl that falls down the center of his forehead. “What do you want to do today?”
“I need to spend some time with Brien.”
I’m about to argue, but Edmund shakes his head.
“Andrew. I told you, something is going on. You know how much I ask questions, and he’s somehow avoided mine. He said he went to sleep years ago because he lost someone, but who was that someone? Did they have a relationship like you and me? If so…” He glances down the hall. “I know that if anything ever happened to me, you would find a way to…”
“Yes. I wouldn’t merely sleep. I would join you in death.”
“So why didn’t Brien? And what the fuck do I mean to him? Why did he give me the power I have before he even knew me? Why share his power at all? He could rule the entire world with his abilities, and yet, he created his only adversary in me.”
“You aren’t his enemy.”
“I could be.” He stares at his hands. “God, you should feel it, Andrew. I swear sometimes my fingers burn with potential. It’s beautiful and terrifying and—”
“Did you tell Michelle?”
Edmund shakes his head. “I didn’t want to scare her.”
“So we talk to Brien.”
He nods. “It’s time he started answering my questions.”
I’m about to suggest we set off to find the Elder, but a scream cuts through the silence. Edmund and I take off running and find Hallie in the middle of the grand front staircase. She shouts and shouts for help, but I can barely make out her frantic cries. When Edmund nears her, she grabs his hand and drags him after her.
We rush toward Evelyn’s chambers, the door already open. Patricia is there, as is the unfamiliar priest, and Edmund’s mother thrashes on the floor between them in a pool of spilled tea.
“Move,” Edmund commands, and Patricia stands with her hand to her chest, mouth pressed into a firm line. Edmund lifts his mother into his arms and tries to hold her as she convulses against his chest. Her eyes have rolled back in her head, only whites showing. She grimaces, teeth b
ared, and Edmund calls out to her: “Mother…mother, please.”
There’s no time to find a doctor. Hallie sobs at my side, and we watch, helpless, as Edmund uses all his strength to stop Evelyn’s shaking.
After a few minutes that feel like hours, the violent seizing stops, replaced by gentle trembles and quiet groans. Edmund lifts his mother from the floor and rests her body across the nearby chaise. He sits on the edge and takes her hand as she mutters to herself. Then, he looks up at me, terrified.
“You’re making her worse,” Patricia says. “Your mere presence. You have brought sin into this house.”
“Why are you still here?” he asks.
“To protect her from you.”
“And not to terrorize me?”
Patricia’s smile is a cruel, twisted thing. “You deserve everything you get.”
Evelyn mutters Edmund’s name but does not wake.
Patricia swishes past me in her black skirts. “Now, get out of the way so the father can bless her.”
I swear Edmund’s glare makes the room go cold. “I’m not going anywhere, you hateful bitch.”
The priest crosses himself.
“You would do kindly to get the fuck out of my house,” Edmund tells him. To Patricia: “I’ll deal with you later.”
I try to shake off the terror that shivers up my spine.
“We will deal with each other,” Patricia says as she leaves the room. The priest runs after her.
Hallie’s quiet voice: “Edmund?”
“I apologize for my language.”
The servant girl puts a hand on his shoulder, and the menace melts away. “Shall I bring her some water?”
“Yes. Thank you. Scotch for me?”
She nods. “Scotch for breakfast it is.”
I belatedly realize my knees are shaking as I crumble into the nearest chair. I watch Edmund watching Evelyn. My dearest darling can be the scariest thing in the world.
Chapter Twelve
ALL DAY, HE doesn’t leave her side. His mother tumbles in and out of consciousness. Any thought of talking to Brien today, confronting him, has apparently been forgotten. I sit nearby and read books about insects, lizards, monsters of Africa… They are strewn about Evelyn’s room, although I assume they once belonged to Edmund. The seeds of naturalism were perhaps sewn here. He did once say she was to blame for his adventurous nature.
As the sun begins to sink, he notices I’m here. He stands and stumbles toward me as though drunk. He isn’t. He only had that one scotch that Hallie handed to me, silently, before she disappeared back to the kitchen. Another servant did bring up a tray of food, but at least now we have an excuse for not eating: emotional distress.
He leans over and kisses the top of my head. “Let’s go find Hallie. Have her bring up some tea for Mum.”
I nod and follow him away from the room that is beginning to smell like sweat-slick human skin and sour breath.
Michelle and Felipe returned from their earlier ride and left again soon after to seek entertainment in the village. As Felipe mentioned, Flynn still enjoys a lazy day in bed. We don’t pass Brien or Patricia on our way to the kitchen, but Hallie stands up straight and ducks her head when we enter.
Edmund puts his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m sorry about this morning. I should not have behaved that way in front of a lady such as you.”
She flashes a little smile. “It’s fine, Edmund.”
“It really isn’t.”
She shrugs. “You’ve always spoken your mind.”
They hug, her face against his chest. Her small hands squeeze the back of his dark red waistcoat tight. “When you yelled at Patricia, the look on her face…” Hallie giggles, and Edmund immediately joins in.
“Yes, well. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Hallie pulls away and grins at me. “We don’t care what she thinks, do we, Andrew?”
I shake my head. “Not a bit.”
“You must be starving.” She grabs Edmund’s hand as a young girl would. “I haven’t seen you eat a thing since you’ve been here. What might I prepare for the two worldly gentlemen?”
“Actually, would you make tea for my mother? I can take it up. I’d rather not be away from her just yet.”
She pushes a brown curl up into her bonnet. “Edmund, you must eat.”
“Later.”
She peers over his shoulder at me. “If I send you up with toast, will you make sure he eats some?”
“I will do my best.”
“Your best must be pretty good if you won his heart.” She kisses the back of Edmund’s hand before turning toward the fire.
We stand together in the large room crowded with utensils, pots, and pans while Hallie goes to work. While waiting for the water to heat, she reaches for a ceramic container filled with what I presume to be tea. As soon as she opens the lid, though, I smell something like tobacco and, perhaps, very strong alcohol. It’s a bitter mix.
“What is that?” Edmund asks.
“Oh, it’s a medicinal soother for your mother. Some sort of magic from London.” She wrinkles her nose. “The leaves reek much worse than the tea.”
“Dr. Watt suggested it?”
“No.” She scoops leaves into a kettle. “Lady Patricia brought it back. Said it would help with ailments of the brain. She probably had it blessed by a priest or some such nonsense.”
I think nothing of it, but the way Edmund’s eyes crinkle, his lips part…
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He doesn’t look at me. He reaches instead for the ceramic container. “Let me see.”
“Suit yourself.” She hands it to him. “Told you, it smells awful.”
He takes a whiff. The reaction is instantaneous. He drops the container, and it shatters on the floor. He reaches for Hallie’s wrist and tugs her away from the teakettle. “Do not touch those leaves.”
Hallie begins to protest. “But I need to—”
“No.” Edmund squeezes his eyes shut. When they open, they’re filled with tears. “Where is she?”
Hallie and I speak at the same time.
“Who?”
“Edmund?”
“Patricia. Where is she?” he asks.
Hallie’s voice comes out high-pitched and breathless. “She was in the library. What’s the matter, Edmund?”
He takes hold of both her upper arms and pulls her close until she balances on her toes. “Are there any other servants in the house?”
“Not this late. They live in the village.”
He nods. “Do not leave this kitchen.” He rushes to leave, and she moves to follow, but I intercept.
“Hallie. Do not leave the kitchen. Promise.”
She nods shakily. “All right.”
I race after my sailor, my darling, my Edmund. I find him already standing in the library doorway. He stares at the woman in black, and she stares back.
“How did you know about Devil’s-eye?”
Patricia closes her book. Its gilded cover shines in the firelight. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
“The tea.”
She runs her gloved hand over the huge Bible in her lap. “You used to love tea, Edmund. My husband would buy you the most expensive, exotic leaves. Strange you do not drink it anymore. It would have been so much easier if you had.”
“Could someone explain what the hell is going on?” Although Edmund might be smarter than me, I am tired of being left behind.
She sneers and stands, Bible forgotten beside her. “Is your lover as dumb as he appears? Devil’s-eye, also known as henbane. Quite poisonous. I read about it in one of dear Edmund’s childhood science books while staying at Heavenhill during Evelyn’s fever. Oh, the beautiful irony that I would use your own youthful curiosity against you.”
“In small doses, it can be an aphrodisiac,” he whispers. “I had it in Venice, which is why I recognized the smell. In large doses, it causes hallucinations, convulsions, loss of memory—”
I inch forward so I’m in front of him, at least. Physically, he doesn’t need my protection, but I fear what more Patricia might say, especially when Edmund asks, “Why would you do this?”
“My husband was never the same after you.” She balls her trembling hands into the front of her dress. “I think he loved me once, but after he tasted your wares…” She looks him up and down. “What did you do to him? You ruined him. He never looked at me the same again. You were all he saw—beautiful Edmund. I was an ogre by comparison. He used to dream of you, would whisper your name in the night. And then, he died. Died from missing you.”
Edmund shakes his head. “No.”
“Yes.” She takes an ominous step forward. “You took him from me, so now, I take dear Mummy from you. Almost killed her today. I think the dose was a bit high, but what does it really matter? Her mind is so far gone. She might as well be dead.”
I’m surprised windows don’t shatter. Books don’t fly from their shelves. Edmund doesn’t even speak. He just stares at her. He’s forgotten the human habit of breath.
“This is the cost for your sin,” she says. The fire crackles and glows behind her, painting the edges of her hair in flame.
“You know nothing of my sin,” he murmurs.
I am torn between telling Patricia to run and forcing her to stay. She deserves punishment in a court of law, but Edmund’s simmering wrath is much more clear and present.
He lunges forward but doesn’t attack. He presses a hand to the small of her back, the other on the side of her neck. She gasps and tries to pull away, but Edmund holds her steady.
“Shh,” he whispers, running his thumb across her cheek. “You’ve always called me a devil.” He kisses her ear. “Now, I really am one.”
He is too quick for me to stop. His fangs dig into the front of her throat and tear. Patricia screams as blood spurts up and out, painting Edmund red. He leans forward to drink as she thrashes. The crackle of fire is gone beneath the sound of her wet, gurgling cries. He drops her body to the floor, but she’s still alive. She tries to cover the wound, but there’s no flesh left—just the warm slime of her open throat.
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