Monsieur Dupont had succeeded admirably as maestro and had played a wide variety of selections from various decades, which made even the starchiest and most disapproving vampires get up and dance when they recognized songs from their era. It had been a fascinating thing to see the Montmorencys take to the floor with an agility and lightness that a casual observer would have found unbelievable.
She smiled in the silence and went around to make sure all the windows and drapes had been securely closed.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you disappear after Ophelia went to bed,” Kendrick told Salem, who was rolling an abandoned cigar contemplatively between his fingers.
Some vampires smoked—just about the only vice one could employ beyond blood—but Salem didn’t, and Kendrick had left that behind a century ago and had no desire to take it up again, especially with the English propensity for smoking harder substances like opium. Opium made the blood taste like sludge, and opium users tended to be wasted and unhealthy. They had designated the billiards room as the location for all vampires who wished to partake, and now the whole room smelled like an ashtray.
“I walked her back to our room and then came down like a good boy,” Salem said wryly. “But I didn’t care to be ogled anymore, so I stayed in the library. You’ve gotten some new books. Why behind glass, though? I know you love those historical books, but the children’s novels?”
“If you mean the books by a Mr. Anglesy, that is a pseudonym for Genevieve’s father, who wrote his adult books as E.D. Saxon.”
“Did he really?” Salem raised his eyebrows. “And then you marry the daughter. And her father is…”
“Dead, a year ago. But he left her a trunk of belongings, and I found it when I went back to Oxford. So that’s why the books are behind glass. Her father’s last gift to her.”
“Fascinating.” Salem spun the cigar between his fingers. “Well, did the end of the ball survive my absence?”
“It did. I think Genevieve is regarding it as something of a triumph.”
“And you’re not?”
“Well, I didn’t have to draw my sword once, which is both encouraging and also disappointing.”
“If you want to trade blows with someone, convince MacPherson to get fitted for a peg leg. You two can go at it with claymores.”
“There’s a thought,” Kendrick mused. “So why are you still up? The last revelers departed twenty minutes ago.”
“I wanted to catch you before dawn.” Salem pitched the cigar with pinpoint accuracy into the wastebasket. “I felt like I should apologize.”
“For what?”
“The state you found the Ossuary in. It feels like it was partially my fault. I killed Theron, after all, and paved the way for Rupert. I know it wasn’t in any way good before he took over, and I could not have fixed a broken system when I was broken myself. But I wanted to apologize and ask what you need.” Salem met his eyes squarely.
Kendrick extended his hand, and Salem clasped it. “None of this was your fault, Salem. But thank you, my friend. We can use whatever help you can give. Genevieve has discussed starting a school for any vampires who are illiterate and has an idea for a twenty-four-hour circulation library, catering to humans by day and vampires by night. Either cause could use a book donation.”
“I could do that,” Salem agreed with a smile. He eyed the clock above the mantle. “I ought to take the dog out. Might as well take your lad’s dog as well,” Salem said, standing.
Kendrick waited for him while he whistled the dogs from the kitchen, where they were awaiting breakfast, and then followed him out into the garden behind the house. Kendrick yawned as Blaze and Wulfric investigated the garden. The sky was lightening, but true dawn would not be for another few minutes.
Genevieve had finished securing the far curtain and was looking forward to getting out of her gown’s trappings. But when she turned around, she was no longer alone in the ballroom.
“You didn’t invite me to the ball, Genevieve.” Laurent smiled at her, blood streaked across his mouth.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded, going cold at the sight and smell of the blood.
“Why, through the front door.”
Oh, no, Robbie—no, Jeremy!Her throat tightened. Her head felt sluggish. She had to stop him.
His face hardened, and he advanced on her. She backed up and circled the room on instinct, trying to get closer to the door. “You ruined everything,” he snarled. “You and Elspeth, butyou’rethe one who’s been whispering into ears and poisoning people against me. I should have taught you your lessons better—should have ripped out every single one of your nails! I should have plucked out both your eyes!”
“Poisoning?” Genevieve demanded over the ringing in her ears. “I said nothing that was not true. Your own behavior condemns you!”
“You couldn’t be content with your lot in life. You had to go andchangethings!”
“Yes—Yes, I did!” Genevieve stopped and stood her ground. “Being controlled and belittled and abused is notanyone’s lot in life, and I will make sure it never is again! You’re never going to hurt me or make me feel small again.”
“I’m going to kill you!” he growled. “And then I’m going to kill every single human in this house and stain the floor with their blood.”
