William

by Claire Cray

  A moment later I jerked half-upright when he swept my legs off of the couch, sitting lightly in the space he made. Huffing resentfully, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes before I shot him a glare.

  Theo sat on the edge of the chaise in his usual manner, his slender limbs arranged as though for a portrait. Insufferable Prat in Repose. It would take a master painter to evoke the sly intelligence in those gleaming blue eyes, a deft command of light to bring out their incandescence. Although, come to think of it, I imagined artists would stumble over themselves for a chance to depict him.

  The French vampire had come dressed in a lush blue cloak that set off the fiery tones of his auburn hair and his pink lips, and he dangled a basket from one slender hand. "Shake off your dreams, morsel," he said with a pretty smile. "I've brought you some cakes and wine."

  It had been several weeks since I had seen Theo, and I pulled myself fully upright to gauge him suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" I grumbled.

  "Mon dieu." Theo's sweet expression changed to one of disdain. "You lot are such beasts when you wake up." He flicked a pale hand toward the door. "Go freshen up and come back with your manners."

  The little shit. Oh, I hated him. I rose with a scowl and stalked out of the room, then took my time in the washroom. Knowing the twit would appraise my attire with a competitive eye, I dressed in a pair of green diamond-patterned trousers, a black jacket, and a charcoal-colored suede waistcoat in which I cut an inarguably sharp figure. Of course, Theo was always dressed more finely than I could afford, from his exquisitely tailored jackets to his gleaming Hessian boots, but we both knew style transcended coin.

  Damn Theo. I frowned into the mirror as I wound my cravat around my collar, knowing he would keep me in his spell for as long as he wanted. It was always that way: No matter how irritating I found the priggish bastard, he was never without an interesting thing to say. In fact, he could be downright generous with his knowledge. Now more than ever I craved any insight I could glean with regards to Merrick and my situation, and I knew Theo would enlighten me, at least a little.

  And, well, all right. Theo was rather engaging in his own right. Infuriating, yes, and mean as a fox, but also sophisticated and clever. I had enjoyed a moment or two in his company, here and there. Not that I would ever admit it.

  "I can't believe you're still your old self," Theo said when I returned to the parlor. He had fetched two glasses and was pouring the wine on the sideboard by the curtained window, shaking his head in a kind of annoyed disbelief. "He has outdone himself. Truly." Turning to me, he bent at the waist and offered me a glass, balancing it between his slender fingers with impossible delicacy. With Theo, every movement was performed with the elegant glee of a Harlequin.

  I was never much for wine in the morning, but the French were French. I took the glass and politely raised it to him.

  "To new beginnings," he said. We drank, and he gave me a little smirk before beginning to wander aimlessly about the room. He was dressed in sharp silk suit dyed the same charcoal hue of my vest, the whole nine yards embroidered with vines and flowers in shimmering silver thread. More than a bit foppish for my tastes, but of course he carried it off; and, well, the French were French. "Tell me, when did you last see him?"

  Shit, that was good wine. I swirled the glass and took a whiff of it, my lips pulling into an appreciative bow. "A week ago," I replied. "Last Wednesday."

  "Gone upstate, I presume." He wrinkled his face in distaste. "Hiding in his horrid little cave. What do you call that awful plant he keeps? The one that tickles the nose?""

  "I don't know." I propped a shoulder against a bookshelf, watching him warily. "Eucalyptus? Camphor?"

  "Camphor!" Theo turned back around with a snap of his fingers. "That's it! I detest the shit. Always makes me think of sickness." Setting his glass on the mantle, he reached into his pocket and produced a beaded sweet-bag, from which he drew a little ebony pipe.

  "How are you not besieged by pickpockets every night?"

  Theo gave me a sly glance. "What do you suppose happens if I am?" He lit the pipe and shook out his match, then hung a hand in his pocket and cocked a hip, looking at me like his standing there was the most natural thing in the world.

  Since he wasn’t about to explain himself, I asked the obvious question. "What brings you here after all these weeks?"

  "It has been that long, hasn't it? Despite all odds." Theo took a few puffs from the pipe, studying me with a cooler look. As if it were my fault Merrick was taking his time!

  For all his flounce and fancy, Theo was hardly a creature to be taken lightly. The first time I met him was when he hired two thugs to grab me on the street, tie me up in ropes and deposit me into his carriage so that he could forcibly deliver me back to Merrick. And that was nothing: I believed wholeheartedly that Theo was prepared to make good on his threat to kill me if Merrick destroyed himself. There wasn't the slightest doubt in my mind. Frankly, I wasn't even sure I could bet on him doing it nicely.

  "Had a change of heart, morsel?"

  This again? I rolled my eyes and threw up my hand with a sigh.

  "Oh?" Theo's brows arched again. "Am I not the first who's asked?"

  Shit. Something about his tone made me wonder whether my reaction was a misstep. "I've had no change of heart," I said, ignoring his second question. "Merely too much time to think."

  "Yes, I warned him about that." Those sparkling blue eyes stayed on me, watching me keenly. "It's a shame he has to make such a mess of it."

  "What do you want?" I asked again. "Have you come to abduct me again?"

  Theo snorted. "Non. I did consider it." He pivoted on his heel and floated down into the nearest chair, propping an elbow on the arm and brushing a lock of hair from his brow. For a moment he stared toward the ceiling, frowning thoughtfully. "Surely he’ll give in this time around."

  There was a pause as I mulled over whether or not to say anything. I hardly considered Theo a confidant. But however much it dismayed me, I was desperate for anything I could take as counsel—and he was the only one fit to address my circumstances. "He said this would be his last time away. And then it will be done."

  The French vampire's eyes lit upon me at once. "And this pleases you?" At my nod, he closed his eyes and laughed in relief. "Merde! You should have told me right away. I was afraid the whole thing might fall through."

  "What do you mean?" I asked warily.

  "Well, you look so wretched," Theo said with a swirl of his hand, as though it were obvious. "And Silas, well. If he doubted your conviction, who knows what could happen at the last moment?"

  "You mean to say that he would renege?" My spine felt cold suddenly.

  "Renege?" The vampire arched a sardonic brow at me, either to mock my language or to say I should know better. "He was never a willing party."

  "Speak plainly for once," I demanded. "Are you honestly implying he’d abandon me to die by your hands?"

  Theo blinked innocently, poisonous angel. "I said no such thing." But then he pinned his lips lightly between his teeth and dipped his chin to look up at me through his lashes. "But the thought must keep you up at night."

  Bastard. I stepped forward to set my glass hard on the nearest table, then turned on my heel and headed out of the room. A trail of surprised laughter followed me as he called my name.

  Normally I would hold myself above such a dramatic exit, but I had no stomach for his biting smirks, his silky condescension. Not now. Ignoring him, I yanked my jacket from the hook near the door and turned to the mirror to don my hat. Christ, I did look wretched. My mouth was a grim line, my cheeks tense and sunken, my eyes half in shadow. Death's head on a mop-stick.

  Had I appeared so despondent to Merrick? Would that really cause him to abandon the whole thing in a last fit of resolve? It was terrifying, that resolve. Of course he would not let Theo kill me. But what if he decided death was a better fate than he had for me, and decided to kill me himself? No! I shook my head, cursing myself for
the thought.

  "Must we go out?" Theo complained, ambling down the hallway with his cloak about his shoulders once more.

  Of course I would not escape his company. Of course not. No one could tell a vampire whether to go or stay, or when enough was enough. Did I not know that very well? I reeled on him in a flash of anger. "Must you amuse yourself at my expense?"

  Theo pursed his lips, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Must you be so tender about it?"

  "Why must you be here at all?" I snapped. "I have no patience for your insufferable games!"

  "Mon dieu, but the self-importance never ceases to amaze me," Theo tsked, and then changed his tone to unleash his not-so-secret weapon. "Very well, Will-iam." He spread his hands and lowered his head contritely. "I see my old friend has fully prepared you for what lies ahead, and you have no need of my counsel. Forgive my presumptuous intrusion." He gave his lowest bow yet, holding a hand to his heart as though to underscore his sincerity, and then moved toward the door with his eyes downcast.

  As he passed behind me, I slowly covered my face with my hand.

  Was he going to make me stop him? Damn him. He opened the door. Damn him to Hell, the vile, conniving snake. My heart dropped as I heard his boot hit the front step, tightening the noose on my last chance for counsel...

  "Then again," Theo said slowly, and pivoted as smoothly as a marionette. He held one finger lightly to his lower lip, denting his sensitive frown. "Perhaps you are simply too timid to inquire."

  This was his idea of mercy, I reckoned, of saving my pride. And perfectly calculated—just another of the nimble melodies he played for his own amusement. My God, I wanted to pound his head. I pulled my hand down my face, letting out a measured sigh.

  "All right, mon ami. Say no more. I will accompany you to supper." With that kindly announcement, Theo stepped aside to allow my passage outside.

  I made myself a promise: One day, when I was a vampire, I would slap him silly.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Despite my sour mood, it was a relief to be outside in the fresh air. The sky was crowded with bold, silvery clouds, and though the sun shone a bright white between them, the road was damp and the fresh scent of rain hung in the air. I heard Theo breathe in deeply and exhale with satisfaction.

  "I always wished they could bottle that scent," he said, his face now hidden in the shadow of his velvet hood.

  Despite the fact that Theo had infuriated me moments before, I suddenly found myself relieved that he had not taken his leave at my command.

  Why? Why would I be glad to have him by my side? Perhaps because, for the first time in a long while, I had no need to hide what was foremost on my mind. Theo was not Jeremy—he knew my circumstances as well as I did. Nor was he Merrick—no cloud of doubt hung over us, no gloom or dread, no burden of restraint. So damn the wretch all the same, but I had to admit his company was freeing, in a way.

  That said, I supposed I could make the effort to be civil. Not that I cared for Theo's opinion, but his wrinkled nose and looks of distaste had called attention to the sorry state I'd slipped into since Merrick's last departure. It was about time, I gathered, to pull myself together. I hadn't accomplished anything by being a slovenly grump.

  "I must beg your pardon," I said rather nobly, "for my poor manners. I have not been myself."

  Theo snorted, the little shit, and then asked without missing a beat, "Where are we off to? One of your taverns or your brothels?"

  "Don't be absurd." If I wasn't mistaken, there was genuine interest in his voice. Likely he hoped to pick up a meal. What a sickening thought. That was one of the many less savory things about Theo. While Merrick only hinted at his nocturnal reality as a distant abstraction, Theo had no reservations about what, exactly, it meant to be a vampire. Theo killed without shame, and wasn’t coy about it.

  "I’m not being absurd,” Theo said. “I quite like your little corner of the city. A ragged bunch, your lot, but it's all in the spirit of the age. Poets, pamphleteers and prostitutes—the seeds and fruits of revolution, non?"

  I couldn’t help but snort, for he did turn a pretty phrase on occasion. "All the same, I doubt you’d make out well on the waterfront. Your silks would be spoiled with a handshake."

  "Please, morsel. You think I've lived two-hundred and eighty years without dirtying my hands?"

  "I have not the slightest idea," I sighed, more to myself than to him. "Not an inkling."

  "No, you don't, do you! I sometimes forget."

  A neighbor on horseback trotted our way, eying the two of us with a startled look. He returned my polite nod, but turned his head to track us as he passed. Theo's cloak may have protected him from the sun, but it certainly did not help him slip through this part of the city unnoticed. Hoods weren’t exactly in fashion for men, and unlike Merrick, he did not have the grace or quiet authority to carry it off discreetly. No, he had to go with navy blue velvet, and cut in the Spanish style to show his slender thighs, his gleaming black boots. Who could have imagined an ancient creature could be so flamboyant?

  Theo paid the passerby no mind. "Well, the nearest coffee shop, then."

  "Very well. Jude's on Court Street." Jude's Coffee Shop was frequented by visiting merchants and other travelers who came at the suggestion of the innkeepers along the river nearby. As such it was markedly overpriced, but I hardly had reason to watch my expenses anymore. The important thing was that there was little chance I'd meet anyone I knew while I was in Theo's company.

  "What a strange place to be born," the vampire remarked out of the blue.

  "Greenwich?"

  "New York, chicken. America."

  "Coming from a Frenchman."

  "I'm not a Frenchman in public," he warned, and when I looked at him, he smoothly dropped the purred inflections of his native tongue in favor of a much more familiar drawl. "Here I'm Benjamin Corrington, tobacco man from Virginia."

  "So you can be discreet."

  "You are such a little beast, Will-iam. I don't know how I put up with it."

  I shook my head, grimacing faintly at the sky. "Charity, I gather." It felt like it was going to rain again. The breeze was fresh off the river, which ran along our path just out of sight. I had considered, earlier in the week, hiring a sloop to take me up north to Croton, where I could perhaps acquire a horse and a guide to Mayriver, and from there recall the trail to Merrick's cottage in the woods. But Merrick might return before then, and what a tragedy it would be to miss each other by miles...

  "Frankly I hoped this city would be bigger by the time I arrived," Theo continued, slipping back into his usual accent. "And then of course Silas would insist on living a mile of mud and grass away from civilization."

  "What did you do in France?" I asked, seeing how much of a say I might have in the conversation. "Are you from Paris?"

  "Marseilles. Born to the best tailleur in France; now I'm the best in the world. Exclusively at my own service, of course."

  I raised my eyebrows, looking at him. "You don't mean to say you handle your own nine yards?"

  "I do."

  "A fine craft, that." I could hardly pretend I wasn’t impressed. The cut of his clothes made me green, though I’d be damned before I’d admit it. "But what happened, then? You told me once you had a master, and he made you a vampire."

  "Ah, you want to hear my tale.” I could hear the smirk on his face. “Yes, that was true. I was orphaned in 1532, when I was just a boy. The plague had come back to port, and Marseilles never fared well with the plague. So my father decided not to try our luck again. I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen real pestilence, have you?”

  “No. Only heard stories.” I could have told him how my mother’s people had been cut down by disease, how her eyes went dim at the mention of it. But we weren’t talking about me. “I’ve read of those days in the Old World. The horror.”

  “Beyond imagining. The smell of it, sickness and rot, it gets everywhere. But we had the means to go and wait it out somewhere else, so
we set sail with a shipload of our finest silks and cottons. A noble retreat; my sisters and I were all preparing stories, thinking of Boccaccio.” He scoffed. “What a joke. We were only at sea for a week, and then a storm came and broke the vessel into little pieces. They all drowned, my mother, my father, all three of my sisters, the crew and the captain; everyone but me. A fisherman found me tangled up in a heap of wood and rope. That’s the first tale in my Decameron."

  “My God.” I’d always had a particularly wild imagination where the ocean was concerned, having spent so many childhood evenings perched on a barrel behind the bar where my mother worked, listening in on drunken whalers as they traded tales of adventure and peril at sea. Now my mind readily conjured the unbearable sights and sounds Theo must have endured, the thunderous cracking of the timbers, the victims choked and battered by the churning waves. And to be the lone survivor! I could picture the young Theo drenched and shivering on the slick decks of his rescuer’s boat, cold seaweed clinging to his finery, shocked to the bone.

  I was about to offer some words of consolation when Theo went on. "I was taken ashore, and word went back to Marseilles. My father was well regarded there, though most of high society had already fled the plague, same as we. I thought I might have to stay in England! If you think the place is shit now, you should have seen it then. Loathsome creatures, aren’t they?”

  I almost agreed on reflex before remembering that Merrick was born in England. “I’ve met a gentleman or two.”

  Theo snorted. “Some Patriot.”

  “So how did you leave?”

  “After a few months, a savior did arrive. His name was Erik, a Danish lord. Though he’d never been a customer, he said he’d heard of my predicament and asked me to come and care for the wardrobes at his chateau, where he lived with his wife. But he disappeared as soon as he’d passed me off to the butler. They were perpetually away on business. I lived there for six years before I found out they were vampires."