It’s not too difficult to discover his whereabouts. He’s holed up in his study. I can smell him from the stairwell.
Ignoring the fact that I’m naked and my black hair is swirling in an unruly cloud around my shoulders, I bust through the locked study door easily and stand there like a feral Lady Godiva, sniffing the air.
Dr Dryden watches me warily from behind the desk. I sense he’s afraid of me for some reason. No matter. I’m the one who’s in control of this situation. Not him. I’m not surewhat’s happened to Florence Hughes, but I don’t feel like a weak little governess anymore.
‘Hello, my beauty,’ he says as I take a cautious step forward, nosing for his delicious scent.
‘What have you done to me?’ I growl at him.
‘What I had to.’
‘You’re not a doctor, are you?’
‘I was once, a long time ago.’
I take another step forward. ‘What happened? Did you kill someone?’
He smiles sadly. ‘Something like that.’
I bounce on the balls of my feet restlessly. The urge to jump overtakes me. I sail through the air, landing with athumpon the desk, in the middle of his outspread newspaper.
Dr Dryden is taken by surprise, even more so when I launch at his neck, driven by an overpowering need to bite him. But I’m jerked back instantly—his fist twisting in my hair, holding me fast.
‘Not so fast, my pretty temptress.’
‘But I want ...’ I whine.
‘I know what you want. Rest assured you will get all the sustenance you need.’
I attempt to pull away, but it’s fruitless; he has a tight grip on my hair, holding me from him like I’m a savage.
‘If I let you go, Florence, will you promise to behave?’
I nod obediently. ‘Yes, Master.’ He slowly releases his hold on my hair. I crawl onto his lap and lie there curled into a ball, snuffling into his chest, while he gently strokes my back.
‘Good girl,’ he breathes. ‘That’s the way. Nice and gentle now.’
I can be his kitten, if that’s what he wants. But I feel more like a bloodhound.
And there’s something wrong with my mouth. My upper gums are aching unbearably. I rub at my lips, but it only serves to make it hurt more, and I whimper.
‘Is your mouth sore? Let me have a look,’ Dr Dryden says. He cups my chin, and I obediently tilt my head, allowing him to peel back my upper lip. He peers in and runs a finger gently along my gums, making me wince. ‘Hmm, progressing nicely,’ he mutters.
He bends towards me and licks my gums with his tongue right at the place where it aches the most. A moment later, there’s a hot eruption. I moan in pain, fear, and rising horror as something sprouts in my mouth.What is happening to me?
‘Hush now. It’s all right. It’s just your blood teeth coming through. I helped them along.’ Dr Dryden cradles me in his arms, rocking me, but I feel anything butreassured.
‘B-blood teeth!’
Gingerly, I open my mouth and touch each of my eye teeth. They feel like pointy fangs!
Something odd is also happening to my heart—it keeps racing in my chest and then faltering. It must be the shock, or I’m having a heart attack.So this is how my life ends—sitting naked on a false doctor’s lap in Belgravia, with bizarre teeth.
Dr Dryden places his forearm on the desk and makes a small incision on his wrist with a knife. Blood droplets appear along the line of the fresh cut. He dips his finger into the blood and smears it on my gums.
‘This will help ease the pain,’ he says, and the relief is instant, like a soothing balm.
I don’t know how or why it does as I’m too distracted by the taste of his blood and the delicious smell of it emanating from his wrist. It’s too tantalising to ignore. He holds his wrist to my mouth. ‘Feed a little. It will help with the transition.’
