Chapter 20
On the fifth night, the three of us go out for supper.
Dr. Dryden asks me to call him Alexander in front of Charlie, but to address him as Master when we’re alone, since Charlie might grow jealous if he hears me referring to him like that.
Ever since he turned me, Alexander has been trying to placate him.
Apparently, I was meant for Charlie, to provide him with sustenance and sex. But Alexander took me for himself.
‘Charlie is a man-child with no control over his appetite, Florence. His other governesses barely lasted a month, and he promises he’ll try harder each time it happens.
But there was something special about you—something strong between us.
When he couldn’t stop drinking from you, I didn’t want you to die like the others, so I intervened.
Once you drank my blood, you became mine, my darling. ’
The ‘man-child’ is now throwing me frosty looks in the carriage as we head out of Belgravia.
I was slightly nervous about being in such close confinement, but Alexander reassured me before we left, ‘There is no need to fear, Florence. You are with me, and I will stop him this time if he tries anything. Besides, I believe you can hold your own now.’
One advantage of being a new vampire is that my strength is currently at its peak and why even Alexander was afraid of me at first. But he’s my love, and I’d never hurt him. I don’t even feel angry at him for turning me into a vampire as it is the only way that we can truly be together.
‘Where are we?’ I ask after we’ve been rolling over the cobblestones for at least half an hour. I twitch aside the black velvet curtain. Amidst the shadows and dim gas lamps are row upon row of run-down brick tenements. It’s a far cry from the white icing elegance of Belgravia.
I’m under no illusion about what ‘going out for supper’ means since Alexander explained it to me in no uncertain terms. I’m just grateful he let me feed from him before we left the house, so I’m not involved.
I’m simply there to observe the way things are done.
The carriage driver is one of Alexander’s thralls, always on hand to do his bidding.
I haven’t yet fully grasped how such human attachments work; all I know is that his thralls are carefully chosen and paid well for their services.
‘On the outskirts of Whitechapel,’ Alexander answers gruffly. ‘It’s not our usual playground. We usually go farther in. But there’s a killer on the loose, which is making it difficult for us to feed. People are afraid and keeping indoors, and I don’t want to arouse suspicion.’
‘And it would be highly insulting if we’re mistakenly arrested for the works of that amateur,’ Charlie adds with a derisive snort.
‘Have they not caught him yet?’ I ask curiously. Of course I’ve heard about the murders—Spitalfields is near Whitechapel—but I haven’t been paying much attention to the papers. My focus has been on feeding from my master, and making love with him as often as possible.
‘Not yet,’ replies Alexander, taking my hand protectively in his. ‘But he tends to work later on in the evening and in the dark alleyways. We’ll stick to the lit streets, where there will be more ... opportunities.’
Charlie gurgles in anticipation and rubs at his mouth.
He hasn’t fed since the incident in the dining room, and Alexander has been busy with me and not taken him out, so I assume his appetite is keen.
He’s not allowed to go out alone without Alexander’s supervision.
I suspect if he did, then Whitechapel police would have more than four murders on their hands to deal with.
The carriage judders to a halt.
‘Now what happens?’ I ask, and Charlie rolls his eyes, as if my constant questions annoy him.
‘Now we wait.’ Alexander holds a finger to his lips. ‘Patience and quiet are key.’
We sit in tense silence while the horse shifts its hooves restlessly on the cobblestones.
Soon, there’s a tentative tap on the window.
Charlie shifts slightly, and his head cocks.
He nods at Alexander, who draws back the curtain.
The friendly freckled face of a young woman appears at the window.
She’s wearing a blue dress trimmed with lace that’s coming away from the neckline in places and a matching satin hat with bedraggled feathers.
Alexander lowers the window.
‘Good evening. What can I do for you?’ His tone is smooth and mellow, and the woman’s eyebrows lift as she takes in his slicked-back hair, sharp cheekbones, and black evening suit.
‘More like what I can do for you, mister,’ she drawls, trailing a hand over her ample bosom.
Charlie leans forward then, revealing himself, and the woman’s lips part as she rakes her eyes over him.
‘Blimey,’ she says. She drags her attention away from Charlie and focuses back on Alexander, her eyes now bright.
‘If it’s a duo, it’s gonna cost yer more—twelve pence.’
‘Just my son, but I’m happy to pay your price,’ says Alexander with a furtive glance at me, whom she hasn’t yet seen.
The woman pouts but quickly agrees. He opens the carriage door and helps her in. Then he knocks twice on the ceiling, and the carriage takes off with a jerk, causing the woman to flop down next to Charlie in a flurry of skirts. My nostrils flare at the sharp scent of her cheap perfume.
She clocks me sitting there in my green dress, and her mouth drops open.
‘Who are you? His mama?’
‘Something like that,’ I say stiffly. ‘Good evening.’
The woman shakes her head as Charlie snuffles at her neck, and she whispers to him, ‘Why are your mama and papa here? That’s so odd!’
Charlie nods at Alexander, and he drops the curtain back, plunging the carriage into darkness—for the woman. The three of us can see perfectly well with our violet night vision.
‘There you go. They’ll just sit there in the dark, so you don’t need to mind them,’ Charlie purrs hypnotically. ‘I’m the only one you need to worry about.’
The woman’s eyes glaze over, and she doesn’t protest as Charlie unbuttons the top of her dress and runs a hand over her breasts.
She sighs and juts her hips as he toys with her nipples.
Alexander’s hand clutches my thigh, but his focus is trained on Charlie’s ‘lovemaking’.
The woman’s head lolls back against the seat, exposing her surprisingly elegant neck.
Charlie laps at the column of her throat with long, slow strokes, and she emits a soft moan.
Her skin looks none too clean, but he doesn’t seem to care.
He’s taking his time even though I know he’s desperate to feed.
Is he putting on a show for me? So I can see what I missed out on?
Charlie moves his head to the woman’s chest.
Despite knowing what’s about to happen and having had it done to me on a nightly basis, it’s still not an easy thing to witness. I turn my head away, but Alexander whispers, ‘Watch how he does it. It’s an art. You’ll need to do the same soon, my dearest one. You can’t keep feeding from me.’
I nod and force myself to watch as Charlie, fangs bared, sinks the tips into the skin directly above the woman’s heart, delicately puncturing it.
Drops of liquid appear, then more. Charlie laps eagerly at the deep violet stream as it flows down between the woman’s breasts. He makes an ecstatic noise in the back of his throat as it hits his system.
My eyes are fixated on the glowing purple blood, and I lick my lips. My blood teeth itch and burn as they extend, and I want to push Charlie out of the way and take my fill too. But Alexander’s arm is vicelike around my waist, holding me in place. ‘Easy, darling,’ he whispers in my ear.
The woman moans, and I shift uncomfortably as Charlie makes another puncture.
But he’s too busy slaking his thirst to notice the woman’s eyes have snapped open.
She can’t see the bloody mess on her chest in the darkness, but there’s no doubt she can feel the sting of Charlie’s fangs and his lapping tongue.
She starts screaming at the top of her lungs.
Charlie quickly slaps a hand over her mouth. ‘Shut the fuck up!’ he growls. For some reason, his mind control doesn’t seem to be working.
Alexander tuts. ‘Do you want me to—’
‘No, Papa. I’ve got it—oooof!’
The woman has kicked him hard in the groin and is now scrabbling for the door handle. Charlie yanks her back, and she screams piercingly. I look at Alexander, and his jaw is tight. I can tell he wants to intervene because all this noise isn’t helping us stay discreet.
‘Control her. Now!’ he hisses.
‘Arrrrrgggh!’ the woman cries in terror as Charlie looms over her. She can’t see his fangs but senses she’s in mortal danger, which she is. Her eyes swivel wildly and search for me in the darkness. ‘Ma’am, please! Help me, for the love of God!’
The heel of my hand presses against my nose, trying to block the scent of her blood, which is driving me insane.
‘Please, ma’am!’ She’s crying now, begging me to help her, and something twists in my gut. She is me, and I cannot let him do this.
I launch at Charlie, knocking him sideways against the carriage wall, gripping his lethal snapping jaw. He struggles to free himself, but I’m too powerful.
‘Go. Quickly!’ I tell the woman.
‘Oh oh oh, thank you!’ she gasps tearfully and lunges towards the carriage door.
I can’t see what’s happening behind me as I need all my strength to hold on to Charlie.
Let her go, I plead with Alexander in my mind.
There’s a burst of fresh air (which, thankfully, whisks away the smell of blood from the carriage), then the sound of boots landing on cobblestones and scurrying footsteps.
She’s gone. She’s safe. I sigh in relief.
But it’s short-lived as Charlie wrenches himself out of my grasp and shoves me away from him.
I hit the opposite wall at a weird angle, and my spine pops in protest. But I sit up and flex it back into position calmly.
I’m not injured in the slightest. I don’t need Alexander’s protection after all. I’m too strong. Charlie can’t hurt me.
‘What the fuck did you do that for, wench?’ he snarls, crouching in the corner. ‘Now I’m going to bed hungry!’
‘Florence did the right thing, Charlie,’ interjects Alexander. ‘Killing her was too risky, especially here.’
‘I disagree, Papa. Rein your bitch in, or I’ll do it for you.’
‘Watch your mouth, son,’ replies Alexander tightly. ‘I won’t have you speak about my wife like that.’
I stare at him amazed. Wife? Did we get married without my knowledge?
Charlie’s lip curls disdainfully, showing a fang. ‘How romantic. I’m so happy for the both of you.’ He cracks his knuckles and glares at me.
The carriage has been meandering along aimlessly, and I have no idea where we are.
We could be outside Buckingham Palace for all I know.
But from the unsavoury smells curling through the swinging carriage door, I sense we’ve come farther into Whitechapel.
The thought makes me uneasy, and I turn my head away for the briefest moment.
Charlie silently springs towards me, aiming for my neck, but Alexander is ready for him.
I’m pulled out of the way and thrown unceremoniously from the carriage before he can do any damage.
My cheek scrapes hard against grimy, wet cobblestones and I sprawl like an ungainly doll, my dress tangling round my legs.
Spitting out bits of gravel and cursing Charlie, I leap to my feet, fists clenched, ready to deal with him myself.
But the carriage door has swung shut.
Alexander sticks his head out, looking grim. ‘Sorry about that, my darling. Charlie is a little unsettled. So it might be best if you make your own way back, just for your own safety. Everything will be in order by the time you return.’
I gape at him. ‘But ...’
‘You’ll be perfectly fine, my love. There’s nothing out here that can hurt you.’
Charlie gives a low evil chuckle from behind his shoulder. ‘If you happen to see Jack the Ripper, say hello from me, bitch.’
‘No, wait! Don’t leave me—’ But before I can finish, Alexander knocks twice sharply on the carriage roof, and it swiftly drives off, leaving me alone in the heart of Whitechapel.