He was silent. All he did was smirk with his hands shoved in his pockets.
My tongue clicked against my teeth in disgust as I turned away from the window.
I locked the bathroom door on my way out. It was tomorrow’s mess for me to worry about.
“I’m feeling better now!” I shouted for Phoebe, running down the stairs quickly and going to the back door to check the locks.
When I peeked out the window, no figures were waitingoutside.
14
THE CREATURE
She scurried about like a manic shrew today, blindly gathering herself for whatever hole she was about to dig for herself.
Every day, her objectives might as well be cast in steel, but today she was on a different kind of mission. Perhaps my gifts inspired her to break from her unrelenting daily pattern.
I waited in the shadows of her hallway, tucked away as she moved around her bedroom. I could see her through the slightly cracked door, her figure fluttering in the candlelight.
She did not bother to turn the gas lamps on, which meant she would be leaving soon.
My back was pressed against the wall next to the door. Backlit by the candlelight on her vanity, her form began to shed some layers.
She struggled with a few buttons on the back of her high neckline. I wished so dearly that I could help her strip faster. She finally popped them out, undoing the rest painfully slow. She slipped the dress down to expose her undergarments. A sheer white corset cover and underskirt hid the rest of her. A peek ofblack cotton stockings appeared as she adjusted her garters, tying a small pouch under the skirt. She slipped that familiar needle into her hair as she twisted it up.
For me?
She dressed in what I called her working attire, which was a wool walking skirt and simple blouse. The last garment piece was a pair of muddy boots.
Those were her walking boots. She must be working tonight. Typically, she brought a satchel with her for deliveries, so she was lighter than usual. I was curious to see who she was going to meet. After she was finished, she flung the door open and walked right past me.
There was that nasty preoccupation again. Poor thing.
The walkalong the winding streets began to lookfamiliar.
She was coming to see me.
I watched intently as she moved closer to the home, inspecting the exterior again. I’d left the service door unlocked, though she did not bite. Instead, I watched her crouch down and pop open the cellar window, slipping inside through the basement.
Finally, a proper move.
I’d wondered how long she would let me flirt before she struck back.
Moving around the side of the manor, I stepped up on the stone edge to get a look inside. She moved about, rifling through my things to find the perfect place to set her trap.
It was like watching an animal in their natural habitat—seeing exactly how they worked when supposedly no one was watching.
It was not long before she wandered into my study. She left the door open, so I had a full view of her pouring one of her vials into my decanter.
How cheeky of her. I think it is time I “came home.”
Approaching my front door, I unlocked it slowly so she could gather herself. When I twisted the doorknob, I was greeted by the warm light of my home.
For a place I spent the least amount of time, it sure was spacious. It was put to good use for gatherings and other selfish purposes, but otherwise it was like a maze. Most rooms would have a thick layer of dust if I did not employ maids. Upon entering, a large foyer and two sets of stairs joined to form a middle balcony above the room. To my left was the living room, and to my right was my private study. Directly in front of me was a hallway leading to many rooms that usually remained vacant.
A flash of movement disappeared around the corner, as well as the accompanying sound of footsteps.
How flirtatious.
