Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
The street outside the museum was packed, forcing Winifred and Felicity to walk arm-in-arm until they reached the entrance. After paying for tickets, Felicity urged Winifred through the crowd.
Inside it was nearly the same temperature as outside, but much less humid.
Winifred hardly noticed, however, as her attention was immediately drawn to the many Greek statues dotting the open space.
They were marble, and several had rugged stumps where their heads had once rested.
The ones that did not, however, seemed to stare at her with sightless eyes.
“The relics are tucked in a small room at the very back,” Felicity said. “Follow me.”
Winifred shifted on her feet. “‘Relics’?”
“They are the reason I needed you to come to Glasgow. It is better you see them before we discuss your husband further.” She started walking away, forcing Winifred to run to catch up.
“Most of the relics were found in Rome,” Felicity said, in the crisp tones of a woman used to giving speeches. “The ‘Winston cache,’ as it is now known, is the largest collection of vampiric artifacts ever discovered.”
Winifred’s shoes squeaked on the marble tile as she missed a step. “Did you say vampiric artifacts?”
“Yes,” Felicity said without stopping. “It has been difficult to find a museum to agree to display them, as you might imagine.” Her cousin turned a corner and entered a dark room.
When Winifred joined her, what she saw inside made her jaw drop open.
There was an enormous closed casket leaning against the wall, a framed sketch of a hulking creature that could only have been a werewolf, and crosses hanging from nails driven into the walls.
Felicity caressed the edge of the casket.
“The vampire trap is my favorite. It can hold as many as three vampires and the wood was soaked in a particular blend of herbs designed to mimic the effect of sunlight.” She rubbed a spot with her sleeve.
“This is only one of several I’ve helped restore.
Uncle Ethan says there is a spell on them that makes them irresistible to vampires. ”
“That’s barbaric,” Winifred whispered. She wasn’t sure which was worse; that she couldn’t stop imagining Marcus screaming as he was shoved into the casket, or that in her imagination, her cousin was the one doing the shoving.
Felicity’s smile widened. “Our family has spent decades gathering these treasures. Which you would know if your mother hadn’t taken you to Toronto.
Individually, they would present as mere curiosities, but together…
” She inhaled sharply. “Well, I hope it is enough to convince some to reconsider their beliefs. And if your husband’s nest decides that makes me too dangerous to be allowed to live…
Well.” She sniffed. “At least I will have tried.”
Winifred felt like a fox that had dismissed a shining, silver circle on the forest floor as unimportant until metal teeth closed around her leg. She’d underestimated her cousin. “You don’t mean that.”
Marcus might be furious when he learned of Felicity’s actions, but he was no killer. Not anymore. The remorse he’d expressed about the lives he’d taken made that obvious.
That was when Winifred spotted the small portrait nestled among a collection of others.
She stepped forward with numb hands until she was close enough to make out the detail of the face in the daguerreotype.
Within seconds, she knew it was Marcus. If she could recognize him, surely others would as well.
He had not been out in society for a decade, but there would still be people who remembered his face.
“You can’t do this,” Winifred said before she could think about what she was doing. She turned to her cousin. “If anyone learns you donated the items for this exhibit, they will think you are mad.”
Felicity’s expression shuttered. “My reputation is of little concern. If I can convince a single person of the danger that lurks in the shadows, it will be worth it.”
“Why?” Winifred asked. “Why do all of this? What has Marcus done to you?”
Felicity blinked several times. “‘Marcus’?” She uttered a sharp laugh. “He is but one of many of the evil creatures that lurk in this city and around the world.”
“I don’t understand,” Winifred whispered. She didn’t recognize the bitter woman in front of her.
Felicity closed her eyes and seemed to wilt. “Four years ago, when I was an innocent girl… I watched a vampire murder my parents.”
Winifred had to grasp the edge of a table to keep from falling over. “M-My mother said your parents died in a carriage accident.”
Felicity scoffed. “A clever lie. Why do you think she uprooted your family? It was not because of the initiation. Our uncle told me everything. Aunt Margaret fled because she was afraid she’d suffer the same fate as my parents.”
As awful as it was, it made sense. Winifred had always found it odd that her mother had continued to insist she learn about their family history, even though she’d claimed they had relocated to Toronto to get Winifred away from her “barbaric relatives.”
“Now you know why I was concerned about your marriage.” Felicity clasped Winifred’s hands. “Your husband might seem kind, but he is a murderer. They all are.”
The conviction in her cousin’s voice shook Winifred to the core. She knew he’d done terrible things, but she’d never have used the word murderer to describe him. He was a predator and humans were his prey. “You’re wrong.”
Felicity pursed her lips. “You need more proof. I understand.” She dragged Winifred deeper into the room and picked up a book. It had to be at least a hundred years old, judging from the metal clasps and tooling on the leather cover.
“This book lists suspicious deaths recorded by our family,” Felicity said. She flipped through the pages, then turned the book around and held it out so Winifred could see. “Look for yourself.”
Winifred leaned forward and read the page. Each entry contained a brief description of each human’s age and occupation, followed by Marcus’s name. Not once or twice, but hundreds of times.
Felicity flipped the page. The entries continued, each with Marcus listed.
“This means nothing,” Winifred said, even though it felt like the floor were lifting and heaving beneath her. Seeing the list of names made it more difficult to think of Marcus’s victims as prey.
But even if Marcus had killed them, he’d changed. He wasn’t the same person who had snuffed out all those innocent lives.
“You don’t know him,” Winifred said. “Come to the castle. Talk to him. Then you’ll understand.” She could still fix things.
Felicity chuckled. “It’s too late for that.”
Winifred’s heart dropped into her stomach. “What do you mean?”
Felicity’s eyes were cold. “As we speak, Vincent is taking care of the problem. Soon the world will have one less vampire.”