“Genevieve, we’re vampires. We have nothingbuttime. The blood exchange will be enough to start. Everything else can come later, in the fulfillment of its own time. As long asIam not what holds you back. I don’t want you to fear me.”
“I don’t,” she said, surprised.
“But you don’t trust me. Yet.”
“But I want to,” she whispered as a wave of exhaustion swept over. The sun. It was rising.
“I would make you promises, Genevieve,” Kendrick said. “And pledge to stay true to you until the world’s end, or mine.” He took hold of her elbow and guided her to the cot. “Will you marry me, Genevieve?”
“Yes, please.” Her eyes fluttered shut before she wrenched them open again. “Fletcher,” she mumbled.
“Sleep, Jenny. I’ll watch him for you.”
He eased her down on the bedding and she succumbed to slumber.
ChapterNineteen
Kendrick’s eyes narrowed to slits, tracking the daylight as it moved across the floor in a faint line from beneath the curtains. Its path was not close enough to come anywhere near the room’s inhabitants, but he traced it warily, anyway. A predator always kept its eyes on an equal threat.
When the small line of light was strongest, and Kendrick felt the pull of sleep the most, the boy stirred. Of course. Small humans were never considerate of elders.
Fletcher mumbled something and plucked at the counterpane over him.
“Are you thirsty?”
The boy froze, his still slightly glassy eyes darting around. “Who’s that?” He fisted his hands in the blankets.
To Kendrick, everything in the room was visible just from the trickle of sunlight, but human frailties required a lamp. He slowly pushed himself out of the chair and moved to the table, striking a match.
The boy recoiled as the vampire lit the lamp and waved the match into nothingness, smoke dissipating up to the ceiling. “Where’s the lady?”
“She’s sleeping.” Kendrick pointed to the cot. “You see?”
“Why’s she sleeping? It’s day, ain’t it?” He glanced towards the windows before a cough overtook him, rattling his small chest. Once he had his breath back, he said, “Can’t you open the curtains, guv?”
Kendrick shook his head. “No, I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you after you drink this water and take your medicine.”
The boy sipped at the water and then choked down what Joseph had left, his eyes on Kendrick the whole time.Keeping his eyes on the threat, Kendrick thought, darkly amused.
“Now, Fletcher—is that your name?”
The boy nodded. “Older boys used to call me ‘Fetch,’ but she changed it.”
Kendrick raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because she said it sounded like calling a dog or one of them fairy things and both weren’t true. Right angry when I told her, she was. So she said I could be Fletcher ’cause I’m sharp as an arrow.”
“That you are,” Kendrick acknowledged. “It’s because you’re so sharp that I’m going to tell you this, Fletcher. I must go below to get you food and a new plaster for your chest.” Kendrick rubbed at his eyes. “I’m going to tell you why you shouldn’t open the curtains.”
“Why?” the boy said reluctantly.
“You know what I am. What Genevieve is. You call us ‘reavers.’ A not-inaccurate word. But mostly we call ourselves ‘vampires.’”
Fletcher swallowed.
