He was standing on the first step, looking up at the town house. His deep eyes looked like they were eating up the details, taking it in completely.
He reminded me of myself—how he studied everything like it was holding secrets.
“Would you like to come in?” I offered, opening the door wider for him.
He pretended to contemplate it, giving his chin a few taps. “Idon’t know... That’s a really hard decision. What if you turn out to be a witch?”
“There are worse things out there, like alienists.” I winked.
He tucked his hands in his pockets, giving a shy glance at his shoes. “As much as I’d love to, I must go. I am rarely even out this late.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “Ring me some time, will you?”
“I can do you one better.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ll send those papers you asked for.”
“We have a deal, as long as you put yourself through the post as well.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He laughed.
With that, we partedways for the night.
13
THE POISONER
One by one, I plucked the single stems of lily of the valley that trailed through the home. The delicate stalks held fragile white bell-shaped flowers in neat pearls along its length. It would be counterproductive to play along with my Creature’s sick games, but he knew I would not waste perfectly good blooms.
When I awoke that morning, the trail started at my bedside and ran through the hallways, down the stairs, and finally ended in the kitchen.
The light filling the room from the window illuminated small specs of dust that stirred upon my arrival. The light swept across the floor and the table, where a pile of mysterious fibers were placed.
It did not seem to be anything much. From afar, it looked to be a pile of wool discarded on the table. As I approached, the wool texture slowly morphed into fine hair, spun into flowers and leaves that were fashioned into a wreath. Some areas of the hairwere tinted red in messy blotches that did not seem intentional, but were residual from the mess required to gather the materials.
Placed in the middle of the wreath was a rat. It was splayed out on its back, a neat Y cut into its abdomen with the skin peeled back—no head. Everything inside was where it was supposed to be, except the heart was pinned above where its head should have been.
There was no need for a note. I knew that it was from my favorite pest.
I wish I could compliment him on his creativity, but alas, this would be one I could give to the birds.
I carefully picked up the wreath of hair. The fine strands still clung on to the oils of their past owners’ scalps. I could feel it on my hands. I plucked the rat heart and put it back inside the carcass, caressing the little body carefully before heading out the back door.
All was quiet at dawn, though a chorus of croaks erupted once I stepped out into the backyard. The only things from him that I kept were flowers. The rest I gave to my raven friends, who had taken up permanent residence in my garden. I tossed the carcass out in the grass, and the fowl enthusiastically hopped toward their meal.
Over by the greenhouse, I hung the wreath on the bird feeder, hoping the other nest makers could make use of it better than I could. He was being wasteful at this point. Every time he left a gift, I tried to find a way to reuse it if possible. Though it was harder to do so with body parts. The only safe place for them was buried under the flower beds to be eaten by the grubs.
I was just thankful it was not something messier, as I did not have a maid on my books. Not that I could ask someone to tidy up human limbs.
“And didhe make his intentions clear?” Phoebe prodded, leaning against her knees pulled up to her chest as she sat beside me on the couch.
We were settled in front of the fireplace. Crystal glasses of sweet booze kept us company.
“No, though I wouldn’t have minded if he did.” I blushed, taking a shy sip from my cup.
“I love it when this happens! I should be a matchmaker. It is like everyone finds a lover at my parties.” She giggled. “Will I get to see both of you soon?”
“I am unsure. He promised he would send me some papers. I am hoping he leaves a calling card in the parcel as well.” I shrugged, finishing off my glass before holding it out to Phoebe.
“This is so exciting! We can pair up and go to the museum, a fair, or maybe a live show?” she rattled off, lifting the decanter and pouring me some more.
