“I suppose it is just general anxiety.”
“Alina.” Edith paused. “You are doing perfectly fine. They trust you, and they know you work hard for them. That is why we love you.”
Alina did not reply, but she sighed. There was a long pause. I suppose they were hugging.
“I have to drop off my tools,” Alina mentioned.
“I will see you at home then. Wait up for me for dinner?”
“Of course, I will wait for you.”
I nearly forgot that I was not supposed to be there, disappearing down the hall at the cue of her footsteps.
I made it outside the hospital and turned around the corner of the building. Not long after, my shadow appeared. She was an intimidating figure now that I could see her better in the light. Her black wool dress and short cape around her shoulders made her look like she was there to collect the coins from the eyes of the deceased. How fitting that she hung around a hospital. I would not mind her being the last face I saw before passing on.
The rest of her day seemed to be her own time, as I doubt she went to the mortuary for errands. I wished I could go in to see what she was up to, but unfortunately, there were no windows to the brick building except at the entrance. All I could see was her slender figure disappearing into the depths of the establishment.
The last stop before she headed home was the blacksmith, where she dropped a bag off. I wanted to see so badly what tools she had that needed sharpening on such a regular basis that she had a blacksmith in her pocket, but I was sure I would find out soon enough on my own.
As if she wasn’t interesting enough two years ago, she had seemingly formed weirder habits. The mortuary and blacksmith were new. She had a few more friends than I expected. How hadshe gathered so many in her Nest that she was worried about feeding them all at once?
My stalking for the day came to an end when I followed her home. I stopped on the road where the tree line ended and the field surrounding her home began. It was quaint and a bit dirty. I don’t know how Phoebe was faring in these conditions.
There couldn’t be many in the small place aside from her, Phoebe, and Edith. This would not be as hard as I anticipated if this was all she had.
15
THE CREATURE
The Americans were creative. Feeding parlors disguised in the open as a gilded club. Where exclusion, secrecy, and scandal were expected—the perfect place to hide a Den in plain sight. Though this was nicer than any Den I’d ever seen.
The scenery was as impressive as any club in the city. The walls were covered in painted scenes of hunts and landscapes. There were many rooms to get lost in, with a bar poised in the corner. Guests filtered in and out of the rooms like blood in a heart chamber, the life of the party. It was less conservative than what I was used to, but I would not complain about that. It had the prose of a Nest with the energy of a Den. It was actually quite refreshing to have something so new, to witness it in the flesh.
At the head of the main room was a monstrous mantel, taller than any person. I would imagine they must need to use ladders to decorate it. Above it was a large mirror that reflected the shimmer of the chandelier that hung proudly from the crown molding of the ceiling. Not one corner of the room was left plain, and I would assume the same was true for the rest of the rooms.
Amid all the chatter, all the bustling, all the fine silhouettes fluttering about like birds impressing their attentions upon each other, nothing could compare to my dearest shadow among the flames.
Alina’s elegant fingers swept along the face of a girl, our little sprite, Edith. Her lean arms were bare aside from gloves since her dress did not possess sleeves. The neckline dipped enough to reveal the slight curvature of breasts, held gently by the pressure of her corset. Her form was more stunning than I remembered. She had lost the sickly look she always had in the years she had hidden from me. Her shoulders and neck were more defined, and her skin held a healthy pallor instead of the ghostly shade I remembered so well. A vibrant blush adorned her cheeks and décolletage, though that could be from alcohol. Which was an odd observation considering she was not holding any glassware.
The movement of her lips made my teeth itch with every word uttered out of earshot. I wanted to devour them, bite right through. They were as soft as the expression she held.
Her eyes were so bright, so relaxed. Even in their coldness, they were capable of warmth when no one was looking, like a ghost that did not wish to be seen by the living, disappearing when they were just about to be perceived.
I could make myself known, but I wanted to savor her before she was relieved of her peace. I could only restrain myself for the length of one more drink.
Her fingers slipped over Edith’s cheek again, and she gestured off somewhere that I could not see.
When Alina was left on her own, the sweet tenderness evaporated like steam. Her expression was not displeased, nor angry, nor holding remotely any discernible emotion. She was stoic, focused, but not unlike behavior witnessed prior.
I remembered that her fixative behavior could make her quite disordered and clumsy, even careless at times.
This was not that type of fixation.
That coldness hardened her eyes like a permafrost. She was a predator through and through. Her blood might be red, but it was black at heart.
That dangerous look in her eye narrowed in on what she wanted, and she stalked toward it. Despite the hunger in her gaze, she moved with the grace of something otherworldly. I would not blame anyone who might be lured by her energy alone. It was dark, tempting, lethal. Everything about her made me want to drop to my knees and repent for the things that came to my mind. All the terrible, awful things I wanted to do to her.
A heat lit at my core when I realized she washunting.
