Chapter 3
Sabrina chatsthe entire way with barely a breath long enough for me to respond. She tells me about her first ball, then begins instructing me on how to behave, and “a proper lady ought not to dance more than twice with one man unless she wants all of Sangate to think she is engaged to him.”
She lectures me as though I have never been to a formal event before in my life. I’ve been to at least a dozen or more, though admittedly, none were on the scale the viscount has been said to have. His status may be considered lower within our peerage, but as a vampire, his wealth and power exceed even that of a duke.
As we near, I press my palms to the window and gape.
“Zadie, are you even listening?” She sighs. “Of course, you’re not—just try not to do anything too weird, all right?”
A stone wall, at least ten feet high, surrounds an expansive piece of land of the viscount’s palatial home—it’s almost too grand to be called a manor.
Our carriage stops at wide wrought-iron gates. The footman’s voice answers another voice, but their words are too muffled to make out. After a moment, the gates open, and we are jostled forward. To the west, a forest swallows up the horizon stretching further than the eye can see.
We come to a stop at the front of the manor, and Sabrina grips my hand almost painfully, not letting go until I meet her gaze.
“I know you haven’t been around vampires before thanks to Mr. Browning, but you must remember to treat them as you would any other person.”
I nod and pull my gloves from my purse and slip them on. Then I follow Sabrina’s lead and take the offered hand as I exit. Perfectly manicured greenery frames each side of the porch, with an impossible number of flowers decorating the outside.
While we wait in line to greet our host and enter, I look around those ahead of us. The inside is brightly lit; a mixture of gas lamps mounted on the wall for added brightness and a host of fat, wax candles to add to the atmosphere.
A woman leans in and quickly whispers into the viscount’s ear.
I’m entirely unprepared for how handsome he is. Tall and lean but muscular. His hair is short along the sides but longer toward the front until tight curls fall in an elegant cascade to just below one eye.
“Lady Sabrina Hall, I am pleased to see you again.” Then he turns to me.
My breath catches in my throat, and I freeze in place. The manifestation of his bond with a higher demon is the unmistakable red ring encircling his irises. It stands out against the deep brown of his eyes, almost as if it’s glowing.
I’ve heard it is the easiest way to identify a vampire. However, it’s one thing to hear about it and another entirely to see it up close.
“And Lady Zadie Hall, it is a pleasure to finally meet you at last.” The viscount turns his broad smile on me.
Opening my mouth to respond, my voice sticks in my throat, and no words form on my lips. I stand gaping like a halfwit, unable to do anything.
“Demons and saints, Zadie, say something,” Sabrina mutters under her breath so only I can hear, tightening her grip on my upper arm.
The viscount’s smile turns up on one side as if he heard her.
“The pleasure is mine, Lord Thomas.” I nearly curtsy but stop myself as I remember his rank is below mine. Instead, I dip my chin in a slight bow.
My face grows warm, despite the cool evening air. I’m glad when Sabrina drags me past him and inside. We leave him to finish greeting his remaining guests.
The air is filled with the light scent from the flowers adorning banisters and doorways. Over the white marble floors, a plush carpet runs the length of the hallway. The combined contrast of the dark cherrywood wainscoting and eggshell-white wallpaper gives the manor an open and comforting feel—nothing like the unkempt dungeon I imagined.
At the end of the hall, the wide double doors are propped open to reveal a massive ballroom. The steady rhythm of voices accompanies the orchestra’s music.
At least a dozen couples dance the quadrille in the center, surrounded by pockets of small groups chatting. Gentle clapping fills the breath between one song and the next while several dancers retreat and make room for others.
“Zadie?” Sabrina says my name in a saccharine tone. The edges of her smile fray as her gaze bores into mine. “Do you think you can handle yourself now? Or do I need to stand next to you all night to keep you from making a mockery of our family name?”
I pull my arm from her grasp and cant my head, plastering on the most pleasant expression I can manage and match her tone. “I will be fine on my own.”
Whether I think I can or not doesn’t matter. I have a mission to complete before the end of the night. There’s no telling how long it will take, so there’s no time to waste on steeling my nerves.
She looks doubtful but doesn’t say anything more. An older woman calls her name, weaving through people as she heads this way. A young man and two slightly younger women trail behind as if pulled by a tide.
Sabrina places a hand on mine. “Zadie…” she starts. Then with one deep breath, she walks off, leaving her thoughts unspoken.
Finally, on my own, I make my way along the walls, looking through the open doors in search of a way upstairs, besides the staircase to the narrow mezzanine in full view of the guests.
It would be easy to search the ground floor, but I doubt anyone would keep a rare and dangerous weapon where any of his guests could accidentally stumble upon it.
While searching, I am roped into a few dances. They seem to consume more time than expected. I’m glad I didn’t wait to start my search.
A man several paces ahead tilts his head until he catches my attention. He splits off from his group and strides over to me.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen you on the dance floor yet—” He trails off and lifts a brow waiting for my name.
He has an imposing figure, but the way he holds himself would put anyone at ease. I wonder which family he belongs to. They must be one that associates regularly with vampires, as I’ve never seen him before.
The inadequacies of my social knowledge have never bothered me before, nor have they ever been so obviously lacking until now. It strikes me that Benjamin has been overprotective of me when it comes to avoiding vampires and their close acquaintances. Of course, the blame isn’t all his—I’ve allowed it to happen, not thinking of the repercussions.
“Zadie Hall,” I say.
He grins, and my throat tightens when I catch a flash of fangs peeking out. The vampire must see my shock before I can hide it.
“Ah, I am a lesser vampire, so you wouldn’t see my power unless I’m actively using it,” he says, answering my unspoken question. Then he brightens, adding, “I knew there was no way I could forget someone as lovely as you.”
I take half a step back. He lifts his hands to show he means no harm.
“I only meant that your name is well known in all circles, but your face is not.” He glances around. “Is your finance here with you tonight?”
My nose scrunches up in distaste. “He’s not my—” The words slip out automatically. I cut off before I say too much.
Why would I care what he thinks?
He grimaces. “I approached you intending to ask you to join me in a dance, but it seems I’m making you uncomfortable.”
Movement near the top of the stairs catches my attention as three women seem to walk out of the wall.
“What’s up there?” I ask, interrupting whatever he was going to say next.
The vampire turns and follows my line of sight. “Oh, uh, that….” I glance at him from the corner of my eye to find his ears turning red as he struggles to answer. “That is, the, umm, the… lavatory.”
I think I just found the excuse I’ve been looking for.
Feigning embarrassment to match his, I excuse myself. He seems relieved to see me go. That encounter felt oddly human. Unexpectedly so. I chalk it up to the assumption that he was only turned within the last few years, then shove it from my mind.
Slipping through the crowd, I keep my head down to avoid making eye contact with other guests. I make it to the stairs without being asked to dance or explain why someone hasn’t seen me before. It’s almost as if people forget there are others outside their own social circles.
Casually, I climb the stairs. The mezzanine is nearly deserted except for one couple on the opposite end, speaking quietly within the shadows. I pause to catch my breath and look down at the crowd. I’m not used to such a tight-fitting bodice. The dancers are mesmerizing to watch, moving in and out, and weaving across the floor. Another time I would love to stay longer.
Just as I shift to turn away, my gaze snags on a lone man near the threshold where I entered. Time seems to slow down until there is a lifetime between heartbeats. The viscount’s dark eyes hold me in place.
My mind races. I hadn’t intended to try to catch his attention until the end of the night.
Does he suspect me? Does he know what I’m up to?
I hold my breath, half expecting him to use his vampire speed to block me before I can take more than three steps.
Then the spell is broken as a couple approaches him. All the air in my lungs rushes out. He smiles and nods to me before facing his guests.
I take the opportunity to hurry through the narrow doorway and into another hall beyond the ballroom.
Less than half the gas lamps are lit, leaving the corridor swathed in shadows. The temporary decor for the party ends at the door halfway down the hall. I assume it signals the boundary where guests should wander.
I stride forward, slowing, then stopping three steps beyond. No one steps out from hiding to stop me or calls out. I take another step, then another, and then two more. Still, there doesn’t seem to be anyone guarding this area.
With a quick glance over my shoulder to ensure I don’t have a vampire for a shadow, I keep going. Each door I pass is locked. By the fourth, I let out a sigh of exasperation.
It’s the same to the end, where another staircase awaits. I hurry up the steps, once more stopping to listen for anyone following. For the time being, it seems I am alone.
The first door I try is a linen cupboard. The next is a sitting area, lit only by the moonlight through the open window. And the two after that are bedrooms, both empty of all personal items, the beds stripped down.
The next is a music room with several laps lit, as though someone had left for only a moment. Several paintings are hung on the wall, and a large gilt mirror with a heavy frame sits over the fireplace mantel. A grand piano in the center glistens like black ice under the flickering lights. A coffee table is situated between two plush sofas that are each long enough for a tall man to lie down and stretch out. In the corner, next to the window, are two chairs and a small round table.
Without a desk or something similar, it’s obvious nothing in this room will have what I need. I back out and try the second to last door.
I find myself just inside the master bedroom, surprised that such a private room is unlocked. All the furniture is made of dark cherry wood with forest green upholstery to match the color of the comforter. Thick area rugs are strewn over the hardwood floors between the bed and a chair and side table near the fireplace. Before I can think better of it, I’m moving deeper into the room.
Past a dresser and armoire is an alcove set up as a charming office. A smile pulls on my lips. Atop an elegant yet simple writing desk is a worn leather journal and a stack of messy papers. Best of all, the drawers that have keyholes are slightly ajar. My fingers itch to search through it all. I have no doubt that I will find something here that will lead me to the night-forged silver weapon or a piece of evidence to prove the viscount’s guilt.
“I wondered where you ran off to,” the viscount’s voice is silky and rich. “Though I must say, I hardly expected to find you in my bedroom of all places.”
I whirl. Lord Morgan stands in the doorway, then in the blink of an eye, he is less than an arm’s length away from me. The movement of his unnatural vampire speed is dizzying. I take half a step back to regain my balance.
My heel catches on the edge of a rug. Time seems to slow as the world tilts. All I can do is squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself.
There’s a soft brush of air. The scent of freshly cut wood and smoke, with a hint of something sweet that I can’t place.
Slowly, I peel my eyes open. The vampire’s face hovers over mine, his strong arms holding me nearly horizontal as if we are mid-dance.
“Well, I can’t say a woman has ever attempted to seduce me quite this way.” His perfect mouth crooks up on one side.
My heart leaps and sticks in my throat. I struggle to understand how everything managed to go so utterly wrong, so quickly.
I can’t breathe.
Instead of letting me go, the viscount moves in a little closer as if he might kiss me… or feed.