“I can take care of it,” Lavenzia offers.
“No, no, it’s my turn.” Ruvan waves her away. It’s hard to believe that all the grace and elegance he projects now was wrapped into the miserable-looking husk of a man I first met. “The rest of you, off to bed.”
I take my leave of them, returning upstairs. What luck that the vampire lord decided to stay behind. But I wonder what it was he was “taking care” of… It almost seemed as though he was staying behind to clean up. Worry seeps into me. If he’s cleaning up dishes, will he notice the missing knife?
But surely a vampire lord has attendants to do such basic tasks. Even if I haven’t seen them…they must be making themselves scarce.
I shake my head as I enter the quarters that are now my temporary home.I am worrying for nothing, I try and reassure myself.
The chambers are empty and Quinn isn’t at the door this time. I am alone. It’s a curious decision, leaving me without any kind of supervision in his personal quarters. One that I quickly learn isn’t as foolish as it appears on the surface. All the cabinets are locked. I take a turn about the sitting area, investigating everything within reach.
The furniture is old, and mostly moth-eaten. What remains is bare and fraying. These don’t look like the lavish chambers of the vampire lord I would’ve expected. Not that I ever gave much thought to how the vampires lived. Until now it was almost as if the Fade Marshes birthed them for the sake of terrorizing us. It didn’t matter where they came from. All that mattered was stopping them.
There are three doors from the main room—one I entered from, the second is locked, but the third opens for me. Inside is a washroom. Just like everything else, it has the veneer of luxury, covered in a thick grime of neglect. The spigot over the sink has turned green with age, calcium coating its nozzle. I am astounded when the handles turn and mostly clear water sputters out. At least I will not die of thirst.
Back in the main room I begin to take stock of the things I can control, the supplies that are available to me, and everything I have access to. There’s a loose board on the floor, but there’s only stone and bugs beneath. I find one of the baseboards nearby to be loose as well; the plaster behind has been cracked and eaten away by some rodent. I could store food there so they can’t starve me as motivation to do any bidding I don’t like. But I’m reminded of Ruvan’s words at dinner about vermin. I don’t want whatever creature that made this hole to consume my emergency rations before I have a chance to. It could be a spot for weapons, however.
I pull up the cushions on the settee. Sure enough, the seams are soft and I can pry them open with ease. It’s another good hiding place for a small weapon. I store the knife there and settle the cushions in place before lying down. The weapon is just within my reach, pinned between the cushion and the back of the couch, hidden within the folds of the fraying seam.
Expectedly, sleep avoids me. I stay awake, watching as the silvery glow of the moon begins to weaken and fade, replaced by a softer, more natural haze of dawn. If I were home I would be just waking to head downstairs and put on the kettle for tea before heading to the forge so both would be hot by the time Mother rose.
The ache of loss settles into my bones. I know this sensation well. The cause is different, but the touch is the same. It’s the same icy embrace my father gives me from the Great Beyond.
How is the hamlet? What is Mother doing? Where is Drew? Is he even alive?
If I manage to kill the vampire lord and survive long enough to return home, what would I be returning home to? If Ruvan is dead…then we’re free, whatever’s left of us. I could go to the sea. I could smith with metals I’ve only ever heard of. I could marry whomever I please or maybe even not marry at all. All the choices in the world would be mine for the making.
It’s a waking dream so delightful it hurts. The life that I could’ve had, but that was stolen from the moment I was born.
I blink up at the ceiling, trying to replace my sorrow with anger before it can slip into the void of nothingness that lies within me. The questions threaten to smother me. My ribcage is suddenly three sizes too small.
If not for the vampires, I wouldn’t be here. Hunter’s Hamlet would be whole. Mother, Father, Drew, and I might have long since moved to the sea. It’s the vampire’s fault. I can’t lose sight of that. Even when the wondering of back home becomes deafeningly loud in the silence of night. My hatred for the vampires can be my guiding light.
The door opens just before the sun crests the horizon.
The vampire lord crosses the room. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as he passes me. I keep my breathing even and low. Eyes closed. The metal rungs of the curtain scrape against the rod as he plunges the room into total darkness. Shuttering out the light.
Sunlight burns away the carcasses of vampires. Maybe I don’t need silver at all. Maybe I just need to rip off the curtains at the right moment.
“I know you’re not asleep.”
I cease my pretense and sit. The vampire lord is at the window, back to me. Hands still gripped around the curtains.
“I know you took it,” he continues. I remain silent and he turns to face me, eyes shimmering in the low light. “At least you don’t deny it.”
“Did you find out when your attendants were cleaning the dishes?”
“Attendants…” He scoffs softly. “Don’t insult me. I knew it would end up in your sleeve from the moment you lifted it off the table.” I swallow disappointment in myself. I am transparent. “What do you think a steak knife could do against me?”
Nothing…I knew it from the moment I took it. A slim piece of steel is nothing against a vampire. But I had to. “I don’t feel comfortable being unarmed here.”
“And you won’t be.” He folds his arms over his chest. “You just couldn’t trust me enough to wait for me to give you a weapon—or to even ask.”
“You would give me a weapon?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I level my eyes with him. He knows why; we both know why. The same reason why Ventos will never trust me. Why Lavenzia watches me with such attentiveness. Perhaps they all knew I had the knife.
