chapter twenty-six
THE POISONER
“ D o you remember when we corralled about a dozen rats into the house when we were little?” Phoebe sipped her unsweetened tea from her side of the couch, poking me with her foot to get my attention.
“I believe we put them in the brass tub on the third floor, or am I remembering incorrectly?” I pushed her foot away. We were huddled on the couch by the fireplace mantle in her estate. Living so close to the friend I could never bear to stay away from was nice. Always a short walk away.
“Yes. I only remember that it was above the first floor because we ran down the stairs impossibly fast when they found them.” She laughed.
“I couldn’t believe it took the household three days to find them. I still remember the screech of your governess—I thought the kettle was ready.” I shook my head. “How old were we? But five years?”
“Maybe six.” Phoebe chuckled. “I couldn’t believe we didn’t get bit by one of those things. Poor creatures had to endure our games of house.”
“Ah yes, our little family of rats.”
“Playing house sounded more fun back then.” Phoebe sighed. “Now it’s like waiting for the inevitable. Especially when men become less interesting by the year.”
“I’m sure it isn’t so bad, as long as the children resemble their mother,” I joked. “I can’t imagine what kind of mayhem our children would get into.”
“No trouble of the good sort.” She shook her head. “Speaking of”—she scooted closer and set her teacup down on the table—“tell me about your date at the lab.”
“It wasn’t a date!” I blushed. “But it was fine. We have been spending time together here and there. I asked him to be my lab partner.”
“And what did he say to that?” she pressed, eating up every word I offered to her.
“He said yes.” I couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto my face. “He is going to help me with some things I’m working on.”
“I can hear the bells now!” She smirked. “Will we be able to go on a date together if I bring someone? Oh, how fun it would be! Please say yes!”
“Of course.” I yawned. “I’m sure we could all find something to do.”
“I already have ideas.” She grinned but noticed my exhaustion. “Are you still not sleeping well?”
“No, it’s been the oddest thing. I have been going to bed early, but I’m troubled by unrest or bouts of sleep paralysis.” I sighed.
“Let us try something,” she said suddenly, scurrying to a different room.
Phoebe was one of those people who liked to play caretaker despite some inexperience in anything medicinal. She tried to make everyone feel at home, bending to everyone’s beck and call. A people pleaser, even if it was to her detriment.
“I was prescribed this for a toothache.” She brought over a bottle and handed it to me. “Take a sip.”
“What is it?” I uncorked it to smell.
“Cannabis. It isn’t the worst when it comes to taste. I prefer it to the others. But it is supposed to help with all sorts of things, sleep deprivation included.”
“Ah yes, I am familiar,” I mumbled, taking a few long sips before returning it to her. The flavor was sweet and earthy, with a bitter aftertaste biting at the back of my throat. I only hoped it would act fast so I could forget the aftertaste.
My fingers combed through the long strands of my hair aimlessly. As I passed the kitchen table, I snatched an orange, happily peeling my treat as I went back to my guest room. On the way upstairs, I grabbed a journal that Dr. Hayes had lent me, a publication about germ theory.
It was interesting to think about small, bug-like particles that could cause decay in different body parts, similar to a toxin.
It was not new by any means, but the theories under this broad umbrella were entertaining hypotheticals.
Dr. Hayes said I must return the journal in a few days, which did not give me too much time to enjoy it.
With the journal tucked under my arm, I continued up the stairs to my guest room with my half-peeled orange in hand.
My guest room had the most elaborate bay window with a spacious sitting area to curl up in.
The perfect reading nook. I settled in comfortably as I continued to peel my snack, discarding the peels on the side table next to my candle.
As I took a bite of orange slice, a red flickering caught the corner of my eye.
My heartbeat was in my ears again. It hurt with every pulse. Ignoring the voice in the back of my head, screaming that I was not safe, was becoming increasingly difficult. It was apparent that privacy was no longer expected in my life. No matter where I went, he would always be there waiting.
“Were you going to just sulk over there until I noticed you?” I spoke, reluctantly pulling my attention from my fruit.
The cigarette embers glowed brightly for a moment before fading. A cloud of smoke blew through his nostrils as he sat back in the chair in the corner. “You never noticed me before.” He ashed the cigarette in the decorative vase on the side table.
The glow reflected red in his eyes, similar to a cat when it peered at you in dull light.
It would be sinister if I was not fascinated by it.
The more I observed him, the more I wanted to dissect him and get lost in the details.
To open up his chest cavity and pull out all the parts, numbering them one through seventy-eight, assuming that he had no extra organs.
His tastes were similar to mine—always adorned in black.
Though I suppose that was to blend into the cover of night.
He wore a simple black shirt with the first few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Only then did I realize he had red stains on his arms and hands, as well as smudges of red by his neck, like someone had put up a fight not too long before.
“You look revolting.” I plucked another orange slice. “It must be exhausting being my least favorite nocturnal companion?—”
“Stop.” His voice cut through the room. We were on opposite ends, but his voice was clear and stiff, his fingers rising to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
He was bothered.
A wicked glint crept into my eyes when I realized I was under his skin. Something had happened, and he needed me. Why else would he come in any civilized manner—or rather, more civilized than usual? What a delicious opportunity.
“You are going to give me more.” He took another long pull of his cigarette, tilting his head back to let the smoke rise and disappear into the dark ceiling.
“What makes you so sure of that?”
“Because I said so.”
I let out a loud scoff.
“Quid pro quo,” he suggested.
“Are your answers worth trading?” I stood from my spot at the window.
It could be possible to tease out exactly what I wanted.
He would not kill me. He would have done so by now if that was the plan.
If it was a game he wanted, I would play.
He said it himself: he liked my company, but I knew that tonight he was here because he was hungry.
Despite the signs of his catch in the wild, his rigidity told me that he was anything but satiated.
I closed the distance between us, his eyes following slowly until his head tilted up at me from where he sat.
“What is it you want?”
“To feed.”
“You look like you already ate.” I crossed my arms.
“I need more of you.” There was an irritated bite to his words. “It wasn’t enough.”
My breath hitched slightly. “A need or a want?”
“Need. Nothing else is working,” he sneered, his free hand running through his blond hair, wiping some of the blood through it. He discarded his cigarette into the vase when he finished.
“What if I say no? Would I get to watch you perish?” I laughed.
He stood suddenly, making me stumble back.
“You don’t want to see what happens if I reach that point.
” That low primal clicking emanated from deep in his chest. “You’re familiar with my handiwork, no?
Need I remind you by leaving some more souvenirs in your home?
Or shall I provide a demonstration right here? ”
I backed away, but he stepped closer. He kept going until I was back at the window, falling into the seat when the back of my knees hit the edge of it. I flinched, and my eyes widened with the memory of him at the graveyard flashing before my eyes.
The Creature leaned over me, resting his hands on the bay window cushions on either side of me.
“You are very capable, Alina. I trust that you will make the right choice,” he whispered as the whites of his eyes filled with black.
He brought a hand to the base of my neck to pull my face toward him.
I heard a deep breath before he paused, tilting his head and leaning in. “It will only hurt for a second…”
“No biting!” I gave him a harsh shove.
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“ But ,” I continued, “I will trade you for something.”
His brow twitched. “Trade?”
“Yes. You said quid pro quo before, did you not?”
“I did.”
“Humor me. Maybe you will get a small taste if you behave.” I smirked.
He hesitated for a minute. Those vulturine eyes searched my face for any hint of a trick. “Deal,” he finally said, his body shaking. The tremor was so subtle that it almost went unnoticed.
This was a bad idea, right? I could not help the itch in the back of my head telling me I shouldn’t, but this was the perfect time to ask for favors. He was hungry, irritated, and impulsive. All of the best ingredients to get in one’s head.
I patted the spot on the bay window cushions next to me, scooting over for him.
He sat down next to me, leaning against the opposite side of the nook. The candlelight flickered across his sharp features, making them shift as the shadows danced across his face.
I mirrored him, leaning against the wall as I squinted at him.
The blood on his forearm was red, so it was not his own. My brows knit together in frustration. Must he always be so gratuitous? Was there no civilized way to feed like we did at the lab? It was possible he simply could not be bothered to care. Or perhaps it was something he could not help.