“No. I don’t. My satisfaction comes from being the one in control.”
“Oh.” I try to hide my disappointment. My wounded feelings. I don’t understand.
“Please don’t be hurt. It’s not about you, sweetling,” she says, softening. “I just ... I prefer it this way. Can you accept that?”
“I suppose so. But it seems selfish on my part. To only receive pleasure. And never give it.”
Kate’s wolfish look returns. “Oh, but you do give me pleasure, Lil. Seeing you come apart is an ecstasy. The sounds you make. The way you move. To know that I have that kind of power over you ... it’s hypnotic.” She cups my jaw with her hand. Her thumb brushes my lower lip. “You are so beautiful. Your body. Those eyes. Your spirit. The way you taste. You just might be my undoing, you know.”
She bends to kiss me, and before I know it, I’m consumed by her desire again. And this time, I succumb completely.
A Vampire’s Diary
I am restless. My work is suffering. Arabella afforded me nothing. Her essence, her precious vitality was wasted, spilled on the ground.
That foolish, stupid girl. Lillian. Her interruption cost me dearly. I take comfort in only the fact that the finger of blame is now firmly planted upon her head. No one suspects me. I’m as invisible as I ever was. As I always have been. I walk among them, dance among them, and serve them, yet they ignore me. They think themselves above me and always have. Well. Someday,everyonewill know my name.
The prostitute I took home after my failed conquest of Arabella did little to slake my urges. I considered killing her and using her blood, but her red hair was only a ruse. A wig. The thatch of hair between her thighs was dark as pitch. After she left, I felt nothing. Only emptiness. It’s in these moments that I miss Rebecca the most. Warm, willing Rebecca. How I mourn her.
I must extend my hunting ground. I need more blood. I will go utterly mad if my work bears no fruit. It must.
Eighteen
Kate slides the cut-throat razor through my damp hair, neatening the layers and shingling the nape. When she’s finished, she smooths my waves with a bit of whale oil pomade, combs everything into place, then plants a kiss on my forehead. “There, sweetling. Have a look.”
I eye my reflection in the mirror and decide there isn’t much my lover can’t do. I no longer look like a ragamuffin, but a polished young gentleman. Though the cut is fetching, emphasizing my high cheekbones and pointed chin, I miss having long hair. As a girl, it was one of my few vanities and, along with my eyes, the only mark of beauty I inherited from my mother. The day I arrived at City Jail, a guard pushed me into a chair, gathered my thick chestnut locks in his hands, and sawed through them as if he were threshing hay. I was “deloused” with harsh, lye soap that made my sensitive skin burn, then given a scratchy gray woolen gown. My bombazine mourning dress, which I’d worn only three times, was taken out to the prison yard, added to a heap of clothing, and burned. There was no room for vanity at City Jail.
I shove aside my bleak memories, lower the mirror, and smile at Kate. “It looks wonderful.”
“Well. You resemble a boy, as much as you can.” She takes my chin in her hand, turning my head from side to side as she studies her work.
Later that evening, Kate dresses as Varina and then helps me bind my breasts with lengths of muslin. I don one of her Alexander Mayhew suits that we’ve altered to fit my petite frame, and she drips belladonnainto my eyes to disguise their color. We decide that if anyone asks who I am, she’ll tell them I’m her nephew, visiting from the countryside. As the sun sets, we row downriver to Mount Pleasant in silence, passing the stand of trees where I once made camp. I think once more of the pouch of jewelry and coin I buried beneath the roots of the sycamore tree but say nothing of it to Kate. I’m anxious about tonight. Afraid. But I’m excited to prove myself to her and use my skills again, all the same. Mount Pleasant, removed as it is from the panic in Charleston, could be our salvation. The wealthiest members of Charleston society live in the city proper, but there’s money to be had in Mount Pleasant, too.
The party is at a raised Palladian home nearly the size of the Gibbes mansion. I recognize a few faces, but not nearly as many people as at the Kincaid party—something that helps me relax into my role a bit more. As I prowl through the reception hall, looking for easy marks while Kate sings, I tune my ears to the gossip around me. I learn Arabella’s funeral is to be held on Monday in a small, intimate ceremony at Saint Mary’s. There will be no wake. The Meades have drawn the curtains and are refusing callers.
As I eavesdrop, I pilfer a diamond bracelet, three liberty heads, and two silver dollars within the first hour. By the end of the night, my pockets are obscenely heavy with jewels and coin, and I’ve learned that while there have been no more murders since Arabella, the killer is still on the loose, the Calhouns have canceled their spring ball, and some of the most illustrious among the chivalry are planning to summer in Mount Pleasant, where it’s safe.
Back at Angel’s Rest, I empty my pockets. Twenty dollars in coins and a ransom’s worth of jewelry. I smile at Kate, biting my lip. “I told you I was good,” I say proudly.
“You are. And so am I. I received another commission—a party next week near Fort Moultrie. Say you’ll come with me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” I say. “From what I heard tonight, Mount Pleasant will be quite the social hive come summer.”
“Yes. There’s a rumor the ‘vampire’ can’t cross water.” Kate laughs. “Whether that’s true or not, I’m anticipating many more opportunities for commissions.”
I clutch a handful of jewelry. “And many more opportunities to steal. Perhaps we can use some of this to help Ruby and Noah. Or others like them. Help them buy passage north. Have you heard of the Underground Railroad?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“My father ... he told me about it. It’s a network of safe houses, mostly owned by free Negroes, but some are white abolitionists. They call themselves agents. They help enslaved people escape to the North, on hidden trails, river crossings, and such. It’s very secretive, but Papa told me the Gullah Geechee know about it and they’re a part of it.”
“I can pawn some of this,” Kate says, sorting through our quarry. “Take the money to the Gullah elders, to distribute how they see fit. And we’ll save the rest.” A gleam shines in Kate’s eyes. “I have big dreams for the future. For our future.”
“You do?” I say, with a teasing smile.
“Indeed, my delectable little crumpet.”
I tilt my chin up, and she kisses me ravenously, then takes me to bed, where she makes love to me the whole night through. We’re now partners in every sense of the word. Bound by our secrets. Bound by our contempt for the chivalry. Bound by our forbidden love.
