I could have ended her life at any time in the last few hours, yet, I haven’t. Doing so didn’t feel like an adequate punishment. She deserves worse than to go quietly and in the comfort of this carriage.
Sitting in a confined space with a murderess is a whole new hell. I can feel my fangs start to descend at the thought of draining her tonight.
Perhaps tying her to the back of the carriage and making her walk behind it, for all to see her in her shame would be an improvement.
I run a hand along my jaw. No, that would make her crime too obvious, drawing her into the hands of the court, and out of mine. I would rather rot in the Otherworld than allow anyone to take this vengeance from me.
Her deep brown eyes bore into me, narrowing as the cry of a human spawn vaguely registers.
Miss Valmont swings the door open and leaps out, landing in a full run. For a moment, I can only stare at the space where she sat. She cannot be so foolish as to believe she can run from me.
The shouts from mortals pull me out of my stupor. I exit the carriage and walk calmly to the bridge. I'm not sure what to make of Miss Valmont as I watch her wade into the water, calling out to the child being swept away in its current.
I should jump into the water and drag her back, but I will not allow her to pull me into this charade of hers.
She is little more than a wild animal, feral and untamed, and still, she does this. Her actions don’t make sense. Miss Valmont is devious, that is all I know.
My breath catches as she sinks under the surface, following the child’s movements. Together they remain underwater for several moments. A woman cries hysterically, her other spawn whimper and wail at her feet as they too watch on.
After a long moment, the top of Miss Valmont’s head breaches the surface, followed by the child’s, and she stumbles her way to the shore. I wait unmoving until the woman gathers her child, so young, but with long golden locks and glittering blue eyes. My heart goes out to her against my better judgment.
Mud squelches unpleasantly beneath my feet as I make my way for Miss Valmont at the edge of the water, half expecting her to attempt to run again. Instead, she sits, her legs tucked under her, head bowed, and her hands resting on her knees as water drips from her hair and clothes.
I stop before her, close enough that I could touch the top of her head if I lifted a hand and reached out. She is little more than a drowned rat.
Clara lifts her head slowly. Perhaps I expected fear at being caught, but what she gives me in her eyes is defiance. The wind picks up and she shivers violently.
I put the tip of my finger to my mouth, removing my glove with my teeth, then place it in my pocket.
“Get up,” I say, extending my ungloved hand.
Miss Valmont eyes me suspiciously, then, after a moment, slides her icy hand into mine and stands. I move my hand to her lower back, guiding her back to the carriage.
Inside, she sits across from me, eyes downcast, wet hair dripping, and clothes plastered to her body. Each drop of water that falls to the leather seat makes me twitch. It can be replaced easily enough, now that it will undoubtedly be ruined.
She’s slight of build, smaller than I’d previously thought with her ill-fitting clothes. Almost fragile.
“Do not attempt something so foolish again.”
She drags her gaze up to meet mine. “What?”
“If you try to run again, you will die.”
“I didn’t—” Her jaw clenches. “Am I your prisoner?”
“No,” I say reluctantly. “But a debt is a debt, and all debts must be repaid.”
The understanding of my unspoken threat shines in her eyes. The fight drains out of her in a soft exhale of air and she slumps back against the seat, shivering and trying to hide it.
She is an enigma to me.
For the life of me I cannot understand her. How can this cruel woman kill one innocent in cold blood, only to turn around and risk her life to save another? One that didn’t even have enough sense to learn how to swim.
I’m torn between what to do with her. I should kill her tonight—it’s no less than she deserves.
The child, though a pale imitation, reminded me of my Rosalie. And it is that reminder that stays my hand. Rosalie wouldn’t want me to kill her. She would want me to let her go, to absolve her of her debt. But I cannot go so far as to do so. I cannot let this crime go unanswered.
Since I learned of Miss Valmont’s guilt, I’ve wanted nothing more than to drain her of her very life force.
But Rosalie would never have approved, not even to avenge her murder. With her kind, sweet nature, she never wanted harm to come to any human. Unlike most vampires, she had kept her humanity since the day she turned, never once wavering. She actually saw humans as our equals.
I have lived my life trying to make her happy, feeding only on those who were willing, and never going too far.
Miss Valmont squirms under my scrutiny.
She hadn’t even hesitated to jump in the frigid water when all others, including the spawn’s own family, stayed on land and only cried in response, content to lament her fate rather than attempt to thwart it. It is a quality that Rosalie would have cherished.
I am curious to see what she is made of, what other contradictions lay hidden within her.
I feel my will weakening, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to kill this girl after all. Not now, knowing she is not entirely heartless, but somewhere down in her dark heart, there lies a shred of humanity.
For now, that is something I shall keep to myself.