Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Alexandru
The bell at the gate rings.
She has arrived at the appointed time, as I knew she would.
I don’t need to be downstairs to know precisely how the scene unfolds: Gregor greets her with his slight, practiced bow, then ushers her into the great room. I track each footfall across marble, then wood, then marble again.
The pages whisper against each other as I close my book. Her steps falter below, and there’s a quiet intake of breath.
Which detail has captured my crafty servant?
Maybe it’s the banister, carved with writhing serpents.
Or the ancient tapestries depicting fantastical hunting scenes, lurid in their savagery.
Or the chandelier of wrought iron and crystal.
A whisper: “What the hell?”
I smile.
“This way, milady,” Gregor says.
Two sets of footsteps ascend the curved staircase and then pause.
The door opens, and there she is at the threshold in her practical clothes, chin tilted up. A warrior’s stance.
“Leave us, Gregor,” I say.
Gregor recedes and closes the door.
I wait for Ms. Renfield to make sense of what she’s seeing. “You’ve recreated your library.”
I set aside my book. “It always was my favorite room.”
She walks around, touching the books as she did last time.
“I mean, exactly.”
I stand. “Did Gregor take your luggage?”
“Nope.”
“What was that?”
“That was a nope,” she says. “Aka a nope-a-reeno.”
“You were told to move in,” I say.
“Okay, look. Here’s the thing.” She drags in a breath, gathering herself. Bracing.
I watch with mild curiosity. What desperate card will she play now?
“I understand you want me to live here,” she says.
I lower my voice. “And live here you shall.”
“Well... I don’t know about that because the contract stipulates that my work shall be remote. Remote means anywhere that’s not the center of operations. Thus, wherever you reside is the one place I contractually cannot work.”
“Tread carefully, Ms. Renfield. I met a great many interesting people last night. I’m already hungry.”
Her fury sparks, all righteous fire. This urge to champion her little villagers is so quaint, so hopelessly human.
I smile. “Have you given any more thought to how you would kill me?”
“Another day, perhaps. For now, I want to propose a deal. I will agree to an addendum in the contract, removing the remote work stipulation. Meaning, I will move in. I will be your most diligent onsite servant, living here and completing every task you require. No quiet quitting. No shenanigans. No complaints. And I’ll give notice at my other job and help my boss find my replacement. ”
I narrow my eyes. This feels a bit too easy. “And in return?”
She meets my eyes without flinching. “We hunt,” she says. “Together.”
Her request catches me off guard. Of all things— “Hunt?”
“Yes. Together.”
“How would that work? Would you lure the villagers to me? Hold their arms while I tear open their throats?”
“No, I don’t mean like that! I would help in the selection process, ensuring you wouldn’t hunt and kill innocent people.”
“You would choose my prey for me?”
“Sort of.”
I nod. “I see. You want me to slay your enemies and your rivals.”
“No! We would choose together. We would identify murderers and serial killers. They would be your prey.”
“Murderers and serial killers...”
“Humans who prey on the weak for pleasure. We’d hunt them down using our wits. And you would be able to kill with the confidence that the person deserved it.”
“That is hardly a concern of mine.”
“You’ve been hunting the same way for years. Why not shake it up a little? You have this insight into people—super senses. You can smell fear and deception, right?”
“I can smell a lot of things,” I tell her.
“And you have all kinds of other traits that make you an excellent sleuth.”
“I am not a Swiss Army knife, Ms. Renfield. This sounds like a great deal of trouble for a meal.”
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘like shooting fish in a barrel’? It refers to a form of hunting that requires no skill. This form of hunting requires skill.”
“You believe this is something I’d prefer?”
She steps closer. I breathe in the scent of her—vanilla with that wintry bite.
“You were a soldier once, weren’t you? I’m thinking you were, and soldiers protect.
They fight to save their people. Their homes.
Their farms. What if you could do that again?
Deep down, I bet that was important to you once. ”
“My life as a soldier is not a tale you would enjoy hearing.”
“Fine, but think about what I’m proposing. You’d prey on predators who prey on the weak.”
“You would have me cull the wolves,” I say.
“Exactly,” she breathes.
I tilt my head, studying her. “Preying on the weak makes the wolf pack stronger.”
She lets out a frustrated breath. “Well, either way, this is my proposal. I’m offering to amend the contract in a way that you would like, and in exchange, I would direct your killing.
You mentioned that you need to feed every month, which is about thirty days.
You killed that tourist on April second.
May second is ten days away. I believe we could find a murderer in that time. ”
I stroll to the hearth and gaze at the low flames there. “One month is the maximum time between kills.”
“What happens after that?” she asks.
The flames dance and lick at the air above. “We reach the edge of my restraint.”
“Let’s just try it. Because I already have somebody in mind. Somebody who’s been killing in this area. We’ll unmask them together. Doesn’t that sound like a fun challenge?”
I turn. “And then you will take your place here.”
Her heart beats fast, but her gaze never wavers. “Upon the completion of the hunt.”
“Whether or not we succeed in unmasking this killer of yours, somebody dies by May second, and then you will come here to work for me and only for me.”
She crosses her arms. “Yeah. But you’d have to pay me extra. If I quit my job with Serena—after training my replacement—I’d need to replace that income. People count on me.”
“I will admit,” I say, “the stalking of prey was once quite pleasurable to me. But it has lost some of its challenge over time. It’s become …” I pause, searching.
When did it start to dull?
“Too much like the snack aisle at 7-Eleven?” she offers.
I give her a hard look. “We hunt,” I say, voice low and certain. “Together.”