‘Where are we?’ I ask after we’ve been rolling over the cobblestones for at least half an hour. I twitch aside the black velvet curtain. Amidst the shadows and dim gas lamps are row upon row of run-down brick tenements. It’s a far cry from the white icing elegance of Belgravia.
I’m under no illusion about what ‘going out for supper’ means since Alexander explained it to me in no uncertain terms. I’m just grateful he let me feed from him before we left the house, so I’m not involved. I’m simply there to observe the way things are done. The carriage driver is one of Alexander’s thralls, always on hand to do his bidding. I haven’t yet fully grasped how such human attachments work; all I know is that his thralls are carefully chosen and paid well for their services.
‘On the outskirts of Whitechapel,’ Alexander answers gruffly. ‘It’s not our usual playground. We usually gofarther in. But there’s a killer on the loose, which is making it difficult for us to feed. People are afraid and keeping indoors, and I don’t want to arouse suspicion.’
‘And it would be highly insulting if we’re mistakenly arrested for the works ofthatamateur,’ Charlie adds with a derisive snort.
‘Have they not caught him yet?’ I ask curiously. Of course I’ve heard about the murders—Spitalfields is near Whitechapel—but I haven’t been paying much attention to the papers. My focus has been on feeding from my master, and making love with him as often as possible.
‘Not yet,’ replies Alexander, taking my hand protectively in his. ‘But he tends to work later on in the evening and in the dark alleyways. We’ll stick to the lit streets, where there will be more ... opportunities.’
Charlie gurgles in anticipation and rubs at his mouth. He hasn’t fed since the incident in the dining room, and Alexander has been busy with me and not taken him out, so I assume his appetite is keen. He’s not allowed to go out alone without Alexander’s supervision. I suspect if he did, then Whitechapel police would have more than four murders on their hands to deal with.
The carriage judders to a halt.
‘Now what happens?’ I ask, and Charlie rolls his eyes, as if my constant questions annoy him.
‘Now we wait.’ Alexander holds a finger to his lips. ‘Patience and quiet are key.’
We sit in tense silence while the horse shifts its hooves restlessly on the cobblestones.
Soon, there’s a tentative tap on the window.
Charlie shifts slightly, and his head cocks. He nods at Alexander, who draws back the curtain. The friendly freckled face of a young woman appears at the window. She’s wearing a blue dress trimmed with lace that’s coming away from the neckline in places and a matching satin hat with bedraggled feathers.
Alexander lowers the window.
‘Good evening. What can I do for you?’ His tone is smooth and mellow, and the woman’s eyebrows lift as she takes in his slicked-back hair, sharp cheekbones, and black evening suit.
‘More like whatIcan do foryou,mister,’ she drawls, trailing a hand over her ample bosom.
Charlie leans forward then, revealing himself, and the woman’s lips part as she rakes her eyes over him.
‘Blimey,’ she says. She drags her attention away from Charlie and focuses back on Alexander, her eyes now bright.
‘If it’s a duo, it’s gonna cost yer more—twelve pence.’
‘Just my son, but I’m happy to pay your price,’ saysAlexander with a furtive glance at me, whom she hasn’t yet seen.
The woman pouts but quickly agrees. He opens the carriage door and helps her in. Then he knocks twice on the ceiling, and the carriage takes off with a jerk, causing the woman to flop down next to Charlie in a flurry of skirts. My nostrils flare at the sharp scent of her cheap perfume.
She clocks me sitting there in my green dress, and her mouth drops open.
‘Who are you? His mama?’
‘Something like that,’ I say stiffly. ‘Good evening.’
The woman shakes her head as Charlie snuffles at her neck, and she whispers to him, ‘Why are your mama and papa here? That’s so odd!’
Charlie nods at Alexander, and he drops the curtain back, plunging the carriage into darkness—for the woman. The three of us can see perfectly well with our violet night vision.
‘There you go. They’ll just sit there in the dark, so you don’t need to mind them,’ Charlie purrs hypnotically. ‘I’m the only one you need to worry about.’
The woman’s eyes glaze over, and she doesn’t protest as Charlie unbuttons the top of her dress and runs a hand over her breasts. She sighs and juts her hips as he toys with her nipples. Alexander’s hand clutches my thigh, but his focus istrained on Charlie’s ‘lovemaking’. The woman’s head lolls back against the seat, exposing her surprisingly elegant neck. Charlie laps at the column of her throat with long, slow strokes, and she emits a soft moan. Her skin looks none too clean, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s taking his time even though I know he’s desperate to feed. Is he putting on a show for me? So I can see what I missed out on?
Charlie moves his head to the woman’s chest.
Despite knowing what’s about to happen and having had it done to me on a nightly basis, it’s still not an easy thing to witness. I turn my head away, but Alexander whispers, ‘Watch how he does it. It’s an art. You’ll need to do the same soon, my dearest one. You can’t keep feeding from me.’
