It’s Kate. She’s come looking for me. Longing and relief and love flood through me, along with the fear that she might die here, with me. These men are hardly the sort to respect her warning.
“We’re searching for that escaped convict. The murderer,” the tallest man says, eyes scanning the spartina. It occurs to me they can’t see her.
“I don’t give a damn. You’re on private property.Mayhewproperty.” Kate’s voice seems to come from everywhere all at once, as if amplified. She fires another shot. One of the men yelps.
“Goddammit. Show yourself!” the tallest man screeches.
“The next time I shoot, I won’t miss. Now leave, gentlemen, and don’t come around here again.”
The men confer with one another, strangely subdued, all their earlier bravado gone. Kate has exposed them for the cowards they are. Men who hunt the desperate and hopeless. I watch as they splash back through the creek, and trudge up the bank, then disappear into the trees, their hounds padding dutifully by their side. I remain on my belly in the marsh grass, trembling.
“You can come out, Lil. They’re gone.” Kate’s voice is stern, but tender.
I push up onto my hands and knees, my joints aching. I see her then, silhouetted against the twilight sky, tall and imposing, like a warrior queen of old. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go home.”
A Vampire’s Diary
Tomasina
Mount Pleasant is ripe with possibility. The chivalry have ferreted many of their daughters away here, while others have abandoned the city altogether, fleeing to their plantations, despite the dangers summer will bring. Yellow fever. Cholera and dysentery. All less of a risk than I, apparently.
From my boardinghouse quarters, which I reserved under the name Eugene Crabtree, I have an unimpeded view of the young women as they parade together in the evening. That’s where I glimpsed sweet Tomasina, her parasol tilted on her shoulder, the bright flame of her hair gathered atop her head.
After a few days of observing her habits—always the evening constitutional, at six, escorted by her middle-aged companion—I approached her. While her dour-faced companion was less than gracious, Tomasina smiled at me, offered her hand, pleased to make my reacquaintance. She said she remembered my visits to her with fondness and thought of me often. She was now married, with a husband away. A railroad man—aninvestor. Her loneliness was manifest, the hunger in her smile unmistakable. Before we parted, I whispered an invitation to dine with me the following evening at the boardinghouse. Alone.
She came to me, dutiful, lonesome creature, and met my ardor with fervor, falling apart in my arms. After we spent ourselves in passion, I plied her with wine and drew her a bath. While she was thus distracted, I invited the monster in. It was over with quickly, cleanly, and silently. In the hours before dawn, I carried her body to the marshland ringing the edges of town and left her there, then returned to the boardinghouse and enjoyed the most refreshing sleep I’ve experienced in months. Tomasina’s contributions have allayed my despair over Arabella. My work can continue unimpeded here in the hinterlands, especially given the news Tomasina shared with me before she met her fate. In a fortnight, there will be a ball upriver, at a plantation on Daniel Island—one with invitations to debutantes and fine matrons from far and wide. My anticipation is boundless.
Twenty
“Don’t ever do that again,” Kate says. “You little fool.” We’re in the bath together, Kate behind me as I recline against her, nestled between her legs. She wrings out a washcloth and strokes it over my breasts, along my arms. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. They were chasing me. I was worried ... I thought you’d be ...”
“Better off without you?” She laughs softly. “Ruby told me. She came straight here after leaving you. Oh, sweetling.” She dips the washcloth in the water, wrings it out over my belly. “How could you think that?”
“I’ve only brought you trouble.”
“Maybe.” She chuckles. “But my life was rather boring before you turned up.”
“What happened at the party, after I ran?”
“They sent a search party after you—most of the soldiers there. And your William detained me. Gods, Lil, he was the one you were betrothed to? You should have set your sights higher.”
“Hush. I was young. And his family is very rich.”
“Well, all the same. He looks like a ferret. But even with his prodding, I never broke character. He asked me question after question—had I known you were Lillian Carmichael all along? Had I been aiding and abetting you?” She sighs. “So, I lied. Unlike you, I’m good at it. I told them I thought you were my cousin, who I’d only metonce when we were children. I played the victim. Pretended you tricked and stole from me, too.”
“And he believed you?”
“Yes. I cry rather prettily, you know.”
I laugh, imagining her act. “So, what do we do now?”
“We’ll come up with another plan. But you must stay here, from now on, and let me provide for us. You’ve run through all your disguises, my dear. It’s no longer safe for you to accompany me.” She strokes the washcloth over my skin, softly, tenderly. “And there’s been another murder. A young woman in Mount Pleasant. Now that you’ve been spotted there, the killer has mysteriously widened his margins. I find that interesting.”
“How so?”
“I’ve performed many plays. Operas. There’s often double-crossing in those stories. Vendettas. And I think the killer is using you. As cover. So that he can continue his rampage, unchecked. Who better to blame things on than a convicted killer who rose from the dead? A vampire.” She clucks her tongue. “Do you know anything at all about vampires?”
