A hand wraps around my upper arm, pulling me away from Kitty, and dragging me toward the door.
“I wasn’t finished,” I protest, fighting Father’s hold.
“You do not need to bring anything at all,” the vampire says. “Everything you might need will be provided for you.”
I cut my eyes to him, trying to infuse my look with all the disdain I can muster.
Of course, I don’t need to bring anything. I probably won’t make it out of town alive.
“Wait!” Kitty calls out from behind us all. There’s an urgency to her voice I never knew possible.
Mr. Devereaux looks expectantly at her, and she hesitates for a second then hurries to Father’s far side, trying to put as much distance between her and the vampire as possible.
It’s only once she’s around Father that I see what was so urgent. My heart plummets. She clutches at my book. And without fuss or another word, she hands it to me before scurrying off to the far corner of the room.
Father shoves me out the door, finally releasing me from his bruising grasp. As soon as the vampire is over the threshold, the door slams shut.
I gape at the weather-worn wood, jaw slack.
He sent me to my doom so easily. I knew he never loved me, but this stings in a way I never thought possible.
“Come, Miss Valmont,” the vampire practically purrs my name, motioning to the opulent carriage that awaits us down the long driveway.
Holding back the sting of tears, I turn away from the only home I’d ever known and into the hands of my death.
My legs feel weak with every step. The vampire follows a step behind, one hand out as though he will place it on my lower back to urge me on if I stop.
We reach the carriage in what feels like seconds. The driver stays seated, not once looking back. Mr. Devereaux opens the door for me and once more motions me forward.
I set my bag on the floor inside and climb up on the step. With one foot still on the ground, I pause, gripping the metal handle so hard my skin stings from rubbing the smooth surface. My heart pounds hard against my sternum.
I don’t want to get in. I will be dead before we reach the edge of town.
“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” I mutter. It’s pathetic, and I stand to gain absolutely nothing from it. I suppose I say it for my own sake.
“Get in,” he says, unsympathetic to my plight.
I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance. “Where’s the chaperone?”
He blinks once and arches a single, dark brow. “What chaperone?”
“The one that should be accompanying us,” I say, giving a decisive nod as if this were a common occurrence between us—as if he were a normal man.
“You’re stalling.”
“I am not,” I say. Except I know damn well that I am. My pulse kicks up.
The corner of his mouth ticks up in amusement. “You wear men’s clothing and go hunting in the forest alone,” he says softly. “Let us not pretend you care at all if you appear proper to anyone.”
I hesitate, my eyes darting from side to side, looking around for an escape.
“Get in, Miss Valmont, or I will make you,” he says with no emotion.
I lift my chin ready to defy him, to force his hand. He takes a step forward.
Turning back around, I get in and sit, pressing myself up against the far side. The interior is covered in black material with a damask pattern and gold flourishes and accents in a simple but elegant style. The seat is cushioned, and possibly the most comfortable thing my body has ever come into contact with.
For a second, I mourn the fact that I have to experience something so grand like this—knowing I’ll never get the chance to tell Kitty about it… that I’m going to my death.
He gets in and sits directly across from me, closing the door with a click, and the air within becomes stifling.
“You’ve made a wise decision.”
I scoff before I can stop myself. From his earlier anger, I expect a volatile reaction. Instead, he only leans back, relaxing as the carriage jerks forward.
His stare is heavy, making the silence between us grow thick, I can hardly bear it. I look out the window and watch the scenery drift by. These familiar trees and houses will soon give way to the unfamiliar.
“So am I to always call you Mr. Devereaux, or shall I call you, Master?”
“Why would you assume you will live long enough to call me anything at all?”
Those few words are enough to take the air from my lungs and the strength out of my defiance—my lack of belongings only serves to emphasize his point.
He removes his jacket and folds it neatly before setting it aside. Somehow, in just his shirt, waistcoat, and immaculately knotted cravat, he manages to look relaxed and severe at the same time.
I don’t move, not even to look at him. I only wait. Wait for him to lunge at me and take the only thing monsters like that could want; my blood and my life.
Seconds tick by, bleeding into minutes, then hours. Neither of us speaks until it becomes too much for me to take any longer.
“You’re going to kill me.” It’s not even a question.
“Do you want me to kill you?”
My heart stutters at that. The way he speaks is more casual than he has a right to be when speaking of such things.
My mouth goes dry. “Of course not.”
His attention finally relents. I wait for several minutes before reaching for my bag and placing it in my lap. It’s another long moment before I start searching, attempting nonchalance.
“If you are looking for a weapon in there, don’t bother. I could snap your neck before you made to move an inch toward me.”
My hand stills.
He heaves a heavy sigh. “Demon shit,” he mutters under his breath.
With lightning fast reflexes, he snatches up my bag with my meager belongings and sticks his hand inside, pulling out my knife. He turns it over in his hand a few times, then lowers the carriage window and tosses it out.
“You can’t possibly mean to harm me with such a poorly made weapon.” Then he says almost to himself, “You are nothing but a blight on the world. It’s as if you were raised by the most bothersome of demons.”
“And you’re a plague on the world, slowly killing it.”
“Miss Valmont—” he starts then cuts himself off. Then, “Miss Valmont. How old are you, exactly? You can’t be much more than a child.”
His words are like a spark to the tinder of my temper. I know it doesn’t matter what I say or do, he will kill me, and I don’t doubt that it will be sooner rather than later. I don’t see the point in pretending for him.
“Hardly. I’m twenty-one this past winter. And I do not think a child would try to kill a vampire.”
“You are right.” He eyes me again then says, “You’re not a child. Usually, someone of your age would have been married off a few years ago. What defect curses you?”
“Defect?” I ask. The word sounds weak even to my ears. I’m too stunned to process his question.
“Yes, what is wrong with you that you were still living at home like a child?”
“I don’t have a defect,” I snap. My hands ball into fists.
“Then why were you, a grown woman, still living at home?” he asks again, slowly as if I’m a complete idiot, and he’s worried the words he’s using are too big for me to comprehend.
My situation is highly unusual. I know it is. I also know that he is only trying to be hurtful, but I bristle at his words anyway even as my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.
Xander and I had always talked about getting married, he just needed to wait for his brothers to marry first so he could choose someone on his own, rather than someone his parents picked for him.
Xander… I’ll never see him again, and we were to meet tonight. Now I don’t even know if he’ll ever find out what happened to me.
I bite down hard on my bottom lip as disappointment settles like a rock in my gut.
But I can’t tell the vampire that. It would only lead to his continued mocking, so I settle for another part of the truth instead. “I stayed for Kathrine. She’s always been sickly, and someone had to take care of her after Mother was killed.”
He regards me for a long moment. I’m thankful when he only shrugs and doesn’t bring up the point that our father should have taking care of her. It was thanks to him and his endless gambling debts that I am now the ward—or rather, the future meal—of a vampire.
That is the last we say to each other. I don’t know where he goes, but my gloomy thoughts spiral down into further darkness.
I might as well be invisible for all the attention he pays to me, and I am grateful for it. Time passes slowly. My backside hurts, and I grow restless, shifting uncomfortably from sitting in the same spot for hours.
The carriage comes to a sudden stop. I jolt upright and peer out the window. We are still surrounded by trees and the soft sound of rushing water filters in through the carriage.
Eyeing the vampire across from me, I wonder if this is when I become a meal and have my body tossed carelessly to the side of the road.
Mr. Devereaux looks annoyed but doesn’t make a move toward me.
I slide across my seat to glance out the window. We stopped just before a low bridge where a family is crossing. The mother hurries to guide her children off and away. Two smaller ones lag behind.
One slips and falls to his hands and knees, rolling around in front of his sister and tripping her.
My heart plummets as I watch the child try to regain her balance, only to fall over the edge.
I don’t think. My body reacts on its own. I shove the door open and leap out, breaking into a run and sliding down the riverbank and into the water.
Unholy demon shit, it’s freezing!
It’s not particularly deep, but the current is moving too fast for someone so small. I dive in, swimming as hard as I can toward the girl, bobbing up and down. Her head going under for longer and longer each time.
Then she sinks beneath the surface and doesn’t come back up.
I dip underwater and spot her, caught by an old fallen tree. I reach her in seconds and wrap my arm around her waist and pull her above water.
She coughs and sputters, wildly flailing in my arms.
“I have you,” I say, dragging us both to shore.
Her mother is running toward us, the rest of her kids following in her wake.
“Oh, Hanna!” she cries, scooping the girl up. “Thank you, young man.”
Young… man? I open my mouth to correct her, but she’s already hurrying away.