by K. T. Tomb
“Damn the Realm! Damn you!” the vampire screeched. He dodged away from the cross and attempted to flank Alfred.
Alfred, no stranger to conflicts with the undead, lowered the cross and as the vampire leapt at him, he brought the stake up and drove it deep into his heart, using the force of the vampire’s own momentum against him. He turned, continuing to hold the stake in place and knelt in a smooth motion as the vampire struck the floor.
“You ought to have taken my offer,” he said in a low tone.
There was a moment of recognition followed by a flash of remorse before the body began to shrivel up and disintegrate into dust beneath him.
Alfred sighed, standing, realizing that, ultimately, he had not been victorious. He had never relished this necessary—but difficult—task and rarely celebrated when the damned were finally dead. He turned toward the door, strolled through it, and closed it behind him.
With his tools replaced in the boot of the carriage, he untied the horses, mounted the carriage, turned back down Forest Lane, and then back toward London. The moment he was outside of Fobbing, his mind returned to thoughts of Nora. He wasn’t sure how he was going to convince her, but he knew that she was exactly who the agency needed.
Chapter Five
Nora felt better after getting some sleep.
A light broth and a crust of bread were beginning to restore her to some sense of normalcy, but she was still in no condition to entertain clients. Examining the rash on the back of her hands, she went to the mirror to look at her face; something she had avoided up until that point. She tried not to shriek when she saw the rash around her eyes and along her cheeks. She turned away quickly, gasping.
“A cup of tea,” she whispered. It was an attempt to divert her mind from the fact that the combination of the rash, the opium, and the hard-living had transformed her from a somewhat youthful beauty to something... hideous. At twenty-two, I ought not look like I’m fifty. She forced the thought out of her mind and went to the kitchen to make tea.
She was returning to her room with the tea when a knock sounded at the door. Kate emerged from her own room, glancing in Nora’s direction. “It’s a bit early for clients, isn’t it?”
Nora didn’t linger to debate the question. She quickly disappeared into her room and closed the door. In the state she was in, she had no interest in being seen by anyone, least of all clients. Now, she sipped her tea and listened to the sound of muffled voices in the common room outside. The tone had started out amiably enough, but after some moments transformed into something less cordial.
Kate’s voice came through clearly. “I told you, sir, that she is not seeing clients today. Please remove yourself from these premises or I will summon the authorities.”
“I will see her now, but if you prefer to call upon the authorities, then please do,” said the firm voice. Nora knew the voice. “I represent Her Majesty and I will not be trifled with.”
Knowing that only she could deal with the situation at hand, she found a sun hat from which to cover her face and went to the door of her room. With a sigh, she opened it and called out. “It’s okay, Kate. I will speak to Mister Covington.”
“I tried to tell him—” Kate began.
“You did fine, thank you,” Nora interrupted. She noted that Mary, too, was in her doorway and ready to advance on the intruder as well. “This is the gentleman who was kind enough to give me a ride home in his carriage this morning. I’m sure he’s only come to check upon my welfare.”
“Indeed,” Alfred said in a lower tone, but still with some authority behind it. He produced a sum of silver coins that were about three times her usual rate. “I intend to compensate you for your time. Is this sufficient?”
She wasn’t sure if she should accept the sum without question or to point out that it was way too much. After all, he was disturbing her at a time when she really didn’t want to be seen. She took the middle ground. “That is more than enough, Mister Covington, though I’m certain that I will be returning most of it to you because our time will be very short.”
“Nevertheless, it is yours,” he responded, placing the coins in her palm. He glanced around uncomfortably, not sure if he was to sit on one of the divans in the common room or what he was supposed to do. He obviously didn’t frequent the houses of prostitutes often.
“Come with me,” Nora smiled, taking his hand and leading him toward her room. It was devilish of her to lead him to her room just as she would do with a common client, but she decided that by playing the role which with she was most comfortable, she might gain an advantage over his discomfort. Once inside the room, Nora directed him to a cushioned chair. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Though she suspected that it wasn’t Covington’s purpose to be entertained by her, she turned her back and began to slide the gown from her shoulders. Nude above the waist, she turned to face him, unabashed. “Mister Covington, wouldn’t you like to make yourself more comfortable?”
“I uh… well no…” Alfred Covington stammered. He stared at her bare breasts a moment before diverting his eyes. “That is not why I am here. Please, put the gown back on.”
Nora, knowing she had the advantage over him, decided to press it. She pushed out her lower lip from beneath her wide-brimmed hat. “Am I not desirable to you? Perhaps you would prefer Kate or Mary. I can call one of them.”
“Nora, stop,” he snapped. “I know what you are trying to do. Please.”
“Very well,” she sighed. She pulled the gown up over her shoulders and took a seat in the cushioned chair adjacent to him. Irritated by him, but also intrigued, she decided to fire off a different type of salvo. After all, her ancestors weren’t only known for their ability to fight, but for their ability to talk... and to do so loudly. “I will tell you up front, Mister Covington, that I have no interest in the Magdalene asylum. I am a free woman and I intend to stay that way!”
“Magdalene asylum?” He looked at her with a puzzled expression.
“I’m sure that the promises that you made to me earlier were only a means of tricking me into coming away with you to one of those hideous penitentiaries where they make slaves of women like me.”
“My promises come from the highest level of the Realm, from Her Majesty herself.”
“That is the part that I’m struggling with!” Nora snapped. “I’m having a very hard time believing that!”
“I can assure you that my offer is completely honest.”
“I would prefer to know what would be involved in my ‘service’ to Her Majesty before accepting your offer. Or even believing it.”
“I understand,” Alfred responded. “The problem, however, is that the nature of the work requires the highest level of discretion. Not unlike your own… current… vocation.”
“I’ll need a little more than your word,” Nora replied.
“I see. I can’t say that I blame you.” Alfred sat in silence for a few moments and Nora could tell that he was trying to figure out how to tell her what he couldn’t really tell her. Finally, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, flat, wooden cylinder and extended it to her. “How about this as a promise of good faith? It will relieve the burning of your rashes almost immediately and clear up the effects that the sun has had on your face and hands.”
“How do you know this?” Nora took the wooden cylinder from his hand.
“Let’s just say that I know many others with your condition. There’s a cure for it.” He rose from the chair and stepped toward the door. “I will return in two days’ time to check on your condition. Do think over the offer.”
Nora, relieved to have the discussion over with did not try to stop him from leaving. She trailed him across the common room to the door, which he opened without hesitation. He turned, tipped his hat, bowed slightly, and pulled the door closed behind him.
Chapter Six
Nora opened the wooden cylinder and was instantly aware of the gentle, floral scent. Inside was a soft, y
ellow cream which, after dipping a finger into it, she applied to her face and hands. Alfred had been right. The burning sensation abated instantly.
By morning, it had cleared up the rash and she had felt renewed, but had retained her doubts about Alfred. Maybe the man had been forthright with her, but her experience with men had, up to that point, been quite disappointing. The many, many things which she had been promised by the men in her life had never come to fruition. In fact, the more earnestly the promises had been made, the less she tended to trust them. Hence, as she had taken on clients later that evening, she had continued to have lingering doubts about Alfred, despite his “promise of good faith.”
Is he just trying to lure me into some sort of trap, like the Magdalene asylum, or is he being honest? Why can’t he tell me more? What is he hiding? These and other questions continued to assault her as she went through a full evening of entertaining, wrapping it up by inviting Kate and Mary to join her at Old John’s Pub. With Alfred’s unexpected money and what she had gathered that evening, she was feeling particularly generous, not to mention that she needed a way to escape the internal questions that were about to drive her out of her mind.
The three didn’t “work” when they were at Old John’s Pub. Though it typically helped them to set up future clients, the agreement between them and John, the owner of the pub, was that they were there to relax, not to work. Because of John’s strict rules about working, the patrons, though interested, did not make any overt offers. That said, Nora had only bought the first round before others began to arrive from various admirers.
In the early morning hours, well before dawn, the three of them had left the pub together feeling the effects of the alcohol, but not entirely without the ability to navigate their way back home. There was one considerable obstacle that still stood between them and their home. Granted, it wasn’t much of an obstacle for Mary and Kate, but it was one for Nora.
The moment she saw Emma’s, Nora started to feel the euphoria already beginning to wash over her. I can’t. I need to stay clean. She hadn’t liked the way she had found herself yesterday morning, confused and vulnerable. Now, she paused in the street as the struggle between what her body craved and what her mind was trying to tell her.
“What’s the matter, Nora?” Kate asked.
“Oh no you don’t, Nora,” Mary snapped when she realized where they were. “You can’t do it. No more.”
“Say, why don’t you two come with me? It’ll be fun,” Nora suggested.
“You’re drunker than you look,” said Kate. “Don’t you remember what happened to you yesterday?”
“Yes, but we won’t stay long. Just enough to relax,” Nora argued.
“I’m already relaxed, thank you very much. Besides, I’m not touching the stuff,” Mary responded flatly.
“Me neither,” Kate agreed. “Come on, Nora, let’s go home, have some tea and relax there. Besides, I’m a little sleepy. Aren’t you sleepy?”
“I’m not sleepy at all,” Nora laughed. “I’m charged up and ready to go a few rounds with a half-dozen sailors.”
“We’ll get you a half-dozen sailors to wrap up your night, just don’t go in there,” Mary responded. “Please.”
“I don’t really want a half-dozen sailors,” Nora replied, laughing some more. “I’ll just get a hit or two and then when I get home, I’ll be able to go right to sleep.”
“Or,” said Mary, “wake up in a stupor the next day with your clothes off and surrounded by strangers.”
“Come on, Nora, don’t do this,” Kate begged. She tugged on Nora’s hand to draw her past Emma’s, but Nora dug in her heels and jerked her hand back.
“Oh God, no,” Mary groaned, knowing what was about to happen. It wasn’t the first time they’d played out this drama. The moment either she or Kate urged her forward, it was always the deciding factor that made Nora’s stubborn Irish side surface. “Kate, why did you do that?”
“I’m sorry,” Kate responded, instantly recognizing the mistake she’d made.
“You two go on,” Nora said. “I’ll be home in a little while. I just want a hit or two to relax me.”
Mary and Kate looked at her in sad, hopeless defeat, but neither continued with their arguments. They wouldn’t have worked anyway, not with the siren’s song of euphoria convincing her that she could handle only a couple of hits to relax her, and that she really could return home and sleep soundly.
“We’ll see you in a little bit, then?” Kate asked with a forced smile on her face.
“Just a hit or two,” Nora repeated, in that moment, truly intending to do exactly as she said.
“See you in a bit,” Mary said, drawing Kate down the street with her.
Just a hit… maybe two hits… and then I’m out of here. I don’t want to go through that nasty sickness like last time. I don’t want to burn myself in the sun again, either. Of course, I do have that cream now.
The instant she thought about the cream, she thought about Alfred and his vague offer. Those thoughts only irritated her more. Consequently, as she fought against the confusion in her mind, one hit became two, two hits became four, four hits became eight…
At some point, all thought and consciousness disappeared.
Chapter Seven
“Jesus, I did it again,” Nora moaned as she found herself repeating an almost identical chain of events from two mornings ago. Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I control it? Am I trying to kill myself?
Skin burning, Nora was hurrying home and already regretted the conversation that was coming with Kate and Mary. It wouldn’t be as bad with Kate as it would with Mary. Mary’s glare would hover over her like Sister O’Bannon at St. Paul’s parochial school had when Nora or any of the others had misbehaved. Kate’s kindness, however, would be far more difficult to endure.
Why do I do this to myself?
“Look what we have here,” a voice called out to her, a voice that she instantly and regrettably recognized.
She had been so intent on keeping her head and hands covered against the burning of the sun, and trying to remain focused on her objective, that she hadn’t noticed Edwin Burberry. Edwin had gotten rough with her when he’d tried to force his way on her after giving her only half her usual rate. Between her, Kate and Mary, they had driven him out of the house and banned him from coming back. The promise of a slug from Mary’s old flintlock leveled toward his heart from about two paces had ultimately been enough to keep him away.
Nora pretended to not have heard the man, and forced her ill body to pick up its pace.
“Without your friends with you, maybe I can have you for free, instead of half price,” he said, his voice was just behind her. He was following her. “Damned whores charge too much anyway, especially since they obviously enjoy it so much.”
Nora knew that trying to out-run him in her current condition would be futile, considering she was nursing an opium come down—and the sun, which somehow weakened her. With her back still to him, she noticed a broken board in the gutter and scurried forward to scoop it up. Edwin, apparently, had seen it as well and rushed forward. Just as she closed her fingers around it, he brought his foot down on the other end, catching her fingers between the board and the cobblestone. She screamed out.
“Ah, now, Nora, why would you want that? You could hurt somebody with it,” he laughed, and grasped a handful of her thickly-matted hair and jerked her back into him.
Amazingly, the sidewalk was empty, and so was the street of passing carriages. The bastard had timed his ambush perfectly.
No one to help me but me, she thought, gritting her teeth.
Nora spun, directing a knee toward his groin, but evidently, this wasn’t the first knee to the groin he’d seen. He blocked it easily with his own, but she wasn’t done yet. Like a cornered hellcat, Nora swung her fists wildly and kicked with both feet. Edwin dodged and blocked her blows, finally clutching her arms. He hissed in her face, “Just hold still and maybe I’ll let you
live. Besides, you like this sort of thing or you wouldn’t be a whore. We’re going to go into that alley yonder and I’m going to take my pleasure and walk away. If you’re lucky and behave yourself, you’ll walk away too.”
Nora considered her options. She didn’t believe that he was going to let her walk away, neither was she finished fighting him, but she needed to come up with a way to surprise him and catch him off guard. When he’s taking his pants down, she told herself, I’ll get a good grip on where he dangles and put this to an end once and for all.
The thundering in her head, her churning stomach, and her weak condition were all working against her optimism as she was half dragged and half carried toward the alley. In spite of her plan to wait for a better time, one of his hands had slid into a position that left it exposed to her teeth. She clamped down on it with all the force she could muster. Edwin yelped in pain. For a moment, Nora was free. She rushed forward and had advanced several long strides away from him before he caught up to her and swung hard at her head with a heavy fist.
Her knees buckled and there was a moment of darkness that passed over her eyes as she lost consciousness. When the dark fog cleared moments later, she felt herself being dragged over the cobblestones, one strong arm clutched just below her bosom. A hand gripped her hair. She tasted blood—his blood. She had bit the son-of-a-bitch hard enough to tear open his skin. The blood... it tasted wonderful. No, not wonderful. It tasted perfect. What was wrong with her?
She didn’t know, but she figured she was desperate. She would bite him a hundred times more, tearing the skin from his flesh if it would help her now.
Gasping, she caught sight of a pair of black horses stepping lively in front of a familiar carriage. She pulled together the last of her strength and screamed, “Help!”
Edwin clamped his hand over her mouth and pressed so tightly that trying to bite him was all but impossible. Had her cry gone unheeded? She didn’t know, but she was going to sink her teeth into him one way or another. She liked the taste of his blood and was going to have it again, somehow, some way.