Evangeline continued. “He told you to kill me, but he meant for the act to woundyou. Please believe me—you don’t have to carry the guilt of an act that was meant to hurt you.”
“You ought to hate me,” Elspeth burst out. “I—I’m yourmakernow.” The realization filled her with a newfound horror and revulsion. “I c-could make you doh-horriblethings.”
Turn against friends. Stop her mouth. Turn her into a living puppet. Reduce her down to a frantic wild thing, trapped in her own body, not able to even scream. Elspeth pressed her clenched fist to her mouth.
“No, you won’t,” Genevieve said, putting her arms about Elspeth. “Because we won’t allow what was done to us to happen to anyone else. The blood bond can be so easily abused, as we know. Newly created vampires ought to have protections and resources that we never did.”
“And makers must be taught how to help their children,” Dominic said firmly.
“Children?” Elspeth said faintly. She had never seen a vampire blood bond in even vaguely familial terms.
“Children,” Dominic repeated. “We will never have natural progeny. The vampires we make are our only legacy, our only bloodline. I haveneverunderstood how those we make can be abandoned—or abused and manipulated—so shamefully. I will help you both as you navigate this new world,” he promised, looking down at Evangeline and then back to Elspeth.
“We can write a new way forward,” Genevieve said. “Mentors. Teachers. Social workers, for those who may be in precarious or dangerous blood bond relationships. You both are not alone.”
Elspeth stared hopefully at her friend, blinking her blurry vision clear. Her enthusiasm was nearly a tangible thing. That was Genevieve’s best trait—she enabled those around her to hope.
“Speaking of children,” Evangeline said, lacing her fingers together in her lap. A spark of yearning lit in her eyes, belying her collected poise. “Can I see August and June?” Deep longing and fear reverberated in her voice. “I won’t hurt them, will I? I—I drank earlier, but I can’t help but worry?—”
Dominic set his hand on her shoulder. “I will be right there with you. I will not let you hurt them. I promise.”
Evangeline looked up at him and slowly nodded.
Genevieve followed the small procession up the stairs, Evangeline wobbling like a newborn foal as she grew used to the new rhythms of her body, Dominic steadying her when she paused. Genevieve watched with quiet fascination. Dominic had shown intense interest in the family, so much so that earlier, Kendrick and Genevieve had exchanged speculative looks.
“Shall I bring the children down to the parlor?” Genevieve asked once they’d passed the green door.
Dominic nodded. “I think that will be best. But she’ll be just fine.”
Genevieve hurried upstairs to the nursery where Kate held June and showed her a rattle as a nursery maid held a little boy with very curly hair. August sat on the rug surrounded by toy soldiers, but he hugged his knees, his eyes on the door. “August, would you and June like to come down to the parlor?” Genevieve asked, smiling brilliantly. “I think someone would like to see you.”
August’s eyes flew wide, and he jumped to his feet.
“Want to go see who it is, lovey?” Kate asked, standing with June. “Nancy, you’ll look after Ben a moment?”
They all hurried downstairs, August’s hand clasped tightly on Genevieve’s until they reached the open parlor door. Then August caught sight of Evangeline sitting on the sofa, and he ran into her arms. June strained towards her mother in Kate’s hold, shrieking.
Dominic and Elspeth hovered close by, watching carefully.
Genevieve bit her lip as her heart swelled with emotion from the exclaiming, wildly excited but also sobbing children and their mother.
Still—something was missing. She frowned and glanced around her.
Kendrick, in the hallway dispatching the last team of searchers, caught her eye and came towards her. “What is it?”
“Where is Fletcher?”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Kendrick found the boy preparing to slip out Fernside’s back door with just the clothes on his back and a wholly inadequate coat.
“Fletcher!” Genevieve exclaimed in a voice full of surprise and hurt. “Where are you going?”
It was clear where the boy was going. He had a cap pulled low over his head and a cloth of indeterminate origin wrapped around his neck as a scarf. To top it off, he clenched his jaw to still the quivering of his chin.
“It’s night and raining still,” Genevieve continued, confused and upset. “And what about Wulfric? Were you going to leave him?”
“A man doesn’t sneak off without a word. He bids his friends adieu when he takes his leave,” Kendrick said.
