Violetta hesitated. “I promised to keep it to myself and show no one.”
I grabbed her hand earnestly. “Please, Violetta. Emmett never even knew me. I’m no threat to him. I’m just trying to help Maxwell figure out what happened to his brother.”
Violetta’s features softened. She nodded.
“Thank you.” I sighed as I released her hand. Perhaps whatever this list was would contain the answers I was searching for. He’d entrusted it to Violetta so that it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. I wondered if those hands belonged to robed men.
It would have been convenient if Melbourne—or anyone worth investigating further—had stayed on at Foxglove Abbey, but instead I’d spent my time researching the families of Hale’s Corner, creating a list of the most likely candidates for vampire hunters. Some family trees had connections to knights, and the church. Melbourne’s family had connections to both. But then again, so had Isabel’s, and she hadn’t been involved.
“I heard the duke returned to Hemlock Manor,” Violetta said after a few minutes of silence. “You didn’t wish to ride along?”
It was true. The duke had taken a turn for the worse, and while a local doctor had cautioned him to stay in bed at Foxglove Abbey to rest, he had returned home, insisting the family mourn Isabel for him, especially since the poor girl had died on his property. I could have seized the opportunity to return to Hemlock Manor myself, but the only person for me there was Helena, and I didn’t relish the idea of spending time alone with her, not when my wounds were still fresh from her betrayal. “I thought you would appreciate the company.”
“I do.” She paused and I watched her war with something in her mind for a moment. “Lucian, the vampire who killed …” She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling.
“Yes?”
“It was her, wasn’t it? The one you knew?”
I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath. “I’m afraid that looks likely.”
Violetta stared down at her lap. “Why was she here?”
To torment me. To ensure I didn’t make headway in meeting Vrykolakas’s terms. To kill me. Pick any number of reasons. But I couldn’t tell Violetta that. “I’m sorry, Violetta. I wish—”
She held up a hand to silence me. “Just promise you won’t hesitate should you run into her again. Don’t miss her heart next time.”
I clenched my jaw and nodded.
We talked for well over an hour before I returned to my room to allow her to rest. For the past week, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Isabel’s prone form at the bottom of that staircase, body growing cold, drained of blood at Raven’s hands.
That could have been Maxwell. Panic clawed at my chest anytime the thought reared its head. Even now, while he was surrounded by his family, safe during the daylight hours, I worried that something untoward would happen to him. If Raven knew how much Maxwell meant … I put a hand to my head as I paced my room. Howhadhe come to mean so much? Why couldn’t I bloody well stop thinking about his stupid smile?
How had I ever been so cruel? I would have done what Raven had done. I would have left Isabel’s body cold, discarded without another thought.
And I would have enjoyed tormenting Raven, had our roles been reversed.
We returned to Hemlock Manor a sober party. I sat with Cecelia, Melbourne, and Zachariah in the carriage. If Isabel were still alive, I’d likely be in her company again for the voyage.
A pensive silence hung over us for most of the ride. I preferred to watch the trees pass than absorb the solemn faces of my companions, leaning back in my seat with my arms crossed so as not to invite conversation. We had been forced to witness a tragedy, and we’d turned inward to reflect upon the fragility of life. As a vampire, I’d never thought I’d be facing my own mortality ever again. Waves of panic coursed through me as I realized how fleeting life was. I needed to secure my powers again before something happened to me.
Hopefully being faced with such dire circumstances would urge Ambrose to make haste with his decision. Time was quickly slipping away. Soon his father’s health would fail him, and he wouldn’t have the chance to see Ambrose wed.
Cecelia cleared her throat, rousing me from my reverie. She sat across from me, eyes hovering on mine briefly before shifting to her left, where Melbourne reclined, looking bored. “This isn’t exactly how we saw our time at Foxglove Abbey going.”
“Clearly,” Zachariah muttered beside me. He opened his fan and began to wave it leisurely. I leaned over to catch a ghost of a breeze. It wasn’t exactly stifling in the carriage, but it was warm enough to border on uncomfortable.
“I’m certainly not having fun anymore,” I observed with a sigh. “Everything is suddenly so depressing.”
Cecelia nodded. “Life isn’t all fun and games. We’re moving into a phase of life that requires us to meet our responsibilities. Ambrose knows that more than anyone. We can’t just indulge ourselves.” She looked pointedly at Melbourne, who shifted under her gaze.
We can’t just indulge ourselves.I frowned. That was all I’d ever done.
“Don’t you have something to say, Melbourne?” Cecelia coaxed. She glanced from him to me.
Melbourne scowled. “You want me to apologize? You don’t even know what transpired.”
Zachariah perked up, pausing in his fanning, eyes brightening at the hint of scandal. “Oh? Did something happen between you two?”
