“Do not be upset, Victor didn’t mean anything by it,” Cassius says.
Lawrence watches on, silently sipping his drink and looking amused. He is of no help, so I walk to the window to remove Cassius’s arm from me, unable to stand this man’s false attempts at niceties. It is a favor to us both, as neither of us would pass up the chance to rip the other’s throat out if the opportunity presented itself.
The wind picks up, whipping through the trees of the forest. Above, the moon is bright in the cloudless sky, splattered with stars.
“What possessed Elizabeth to send all of you? Surely Lawrence is more than capable of bringing any news she could want to send?” I turn my head slightly to eye Lawrence meaningfully.
Cassius sneers, but the expression vanishes just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a predator’s smile.
“We were all eager to meet this delightful human snack of yours.” He looks around as if she has been in the room, hiding the entire time. “Where is the little morsel anyway?”
I narrow my eyes at his transparent attempt at speeding up protocol.
“I am afraid that she is retired for the evening.”
Victor growls, drawing our attention to him. He sits with his legs crossed before the fire, dragging his finger along the inside of his glass.
Fuck. He is still very new, and his blood lust is stronger than I could have anticipated.
It has been some time since Elizabeth has sired a new vampire, nearly a century ago if memory serves.
Why send him here where there is a newly claimed human?
Cassius joins my side at the window, but he doesn’t look out. His gaze is locked on me, watching in the reflection on the glass.
“Winter solstice is in two months’ time,” he says quietly. He reaches into the pocket of his vest, pulling out an envelope and handing it to me. The black wax seal on the back holds the symbol of the waning crescent moon with a raven’s feather cutting through it.
The paper is thick and heavy without a single word written on the outside—not even my name. I break the seal and open it.
A formal invitation to the Solstice masquerade on the last day of the year, and to the festivities that will last for two weeks. It is the same invitation as every other year to celebrate a successful claiming season.
Except, this time, the script does not belong to any servant or scribe—it belongs to none other than Elizabeth herself. The faint scent of iron rises up and I inhale. This invitation was not written in ink but in human blood.
There is more meaning behind this unassuming envelope than is apparent at first glance.
After a moment, I raise my eyes to meet Cassius’s. “The post could have delivered this just as easily as one of you. I fail to see the point of this gathering.”
A wicked smile spreads across his lips, but there is no humor in it. “Oh, but we have all come to make sure you and your little pet make it there this time.”
Dread turns my blood cold, but I manage to keep my voice calm. “Message received. You may all leave in the morning.” I start to turn away, stopping after two steps when he chuckles.
“Oh no, my friend. We will be here with you, and we shall personally escort the both of you to Nightwich for the celebration. Elizabeth will be thrilled you have finally decided to act like a real vampire.” He comes around to stand in front of me, fidgeting with my cravat as if to straighten it.
My fists clench at my sides, crumpling the edge of the invitation.
“In fact,” he says quietly. “We are all anxious to meet the human who has managed to capture your interest after all these years.”
Chapter Two
Clara
Something flutters near my head and my eyes snap open. I sit up, heart thundering in my chest. It takes me a moment to blink the bleariness of sleep from my vision, but when I do, perched inches from my face is a small black bat watching me sleep.
I suck in a breath to give the beastie a piece of my mind, but a single, loud knock on my door halts my tongue.
Sending a glare in Cherno’s direction, I throw my blankets off, hoping the creature will take the hint and leave.
It doesn’t work. I don’t take my eyes off the little intruder even as I open the door.
“Miss,” Mr. Steward says quietly. There is an unidentifiable note to his voice that is out of place.
I take him in—from his downcast gaze to the slump of his posture that looks uncomfortable and unnatural. In his hands, he holds out a thick bundle.
I step back and motion for him to enter.
Wordlessly, he sets the clothes on the bench at the foot of my bed then crosses the room to stoke the dying fire in the hearth.
Mr. Steward sets the iron poker aside. He stays crouched for a long moment, staring into the flames. “Mrs. Westfield has finished fixing the last of your pockets.”
I start at the words and eye the clothes he’d brought. I suppose my attempts at sewing were even worse than I’d initially assumed.
He stands and heads to the door where he pauses, keeping his back to me. He hasn’t looked in my direction once since he came in. The avoidance bothers me, though I’m not sure why.
“Three more guests arrived late last night. I suggest you keep to your rooms until the sun is high.” And then he leaves, closing the door with a soft click.
I face Cherno, who is still watching me with those large, dark eyes. So many thoughts race through my mind. It has been at least a week since I’ve seen the butler, and now he wakes me up, delivering clothes and a cryptic message.
And these guests…
“They are vampires, aren’t they?” I ask.
Cherno lets out a soft squeak as if confirming. I start at the seemingly intelligent reply.
“Is that why Alaric sent you to my rooms?”
Another squeak.
I smile and shake my head. I’ve been awake less than ten minutes and I’m already having an imaginary conversation with a vampire’s pet bat.
It will be several hours before the sun will be at its peak. I look around the room, not sure how to spend my time.
Outside the window, the sky is a dreary gray. Thick clouds, heavy with rain, swallow up every inch of blue in the early morning haze.
I untie the string holding my clothes together. Embarrassment washes over me after examining the newly redone pockets. They are more hidden and reinforced. The seams are straight and sturdy, and it’s only by looking at these that I realize how terrible my sewing skills truly are.
There is no point in dwelling on it, so I reach back to untie my nightshift and stop, aware of a set of eyes watching my every move.
“Turn around,” I say to the bat, moving my finger in a circle. My jaw drops when Cherno does as instructed.
I snap my mouth shut—just a coincidence. Or maybe Alaric took the time to train the creature with basic gestures and commands?
That must be it.
I dress quickly. This has been a strange morning so far, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
I take my book from my night table and sit in the chair near the fire and try to read. It’s only after a dozen pages that I realize I haven’t paid attention to a single word. I sigh, giving up, and close the book.
Tapping a finger on my chin, I mull over what Mr. Steward said.
Three more guests, plus Mr. Harkstead, and Alaric, makes five vampires under one roof. Alaric is one thing. I have spent enough time with him to know he won’t come for me in the middle of the night to end my life. I know what to expect from him.