the vein. Sometimes it was good to drink it cold. “First thing a vampire does is find a lair to ’ole up in. They ’ates the sun—it burns ’em. So it’ll be somewhere dark. Tucked up safe. A basement. An ole factory. Tomorrow we’ll spread out farther. Check the abandoned warehouses down by the docks.”
“And what about tonight?” Will asked.
“It’s glutted for the moment,” Blade said. “Won’t be out till the ’unger builds up again. We’ve got a day or two, at most. Tomorrow I want the word spread. I’m puttin’ martial law down on the rookery. Let ’em think it’s ’cos we’re about to go to war with the Ech’lon. Nobody’s allowed out at night past dusk.”
“People won’t like it,” Rip said.
“They don’t ’ave to like it,” Blade replied. He slid into his armchair, hooking his left ankle up on his knee. “If they’re caught out on the streets, they’ll answer to me. And they’d better have a bloody good answer.”
“So what’ll we do?” Rip asked, kneeling down and offering Puss a piece of hardtack from his pocket.
“Get some rest,” Blade said. “I’ve got the rookery lads keepin’ watch for the night with whistles. So keep your boots on, boys, just in case we get a sightin’. Tomorrow I want maps. We’ll mark out the areas we’ve searched and try to pinpoint where it mighta ’oled up—”
Will turned and sniffed at the air. “Someone’s comin’.”
Blade tugged his pocket watch out and examined it. Nine o’clock. If it was Honoria, she was early.
“Miss Todd,” Will said, a flash of disapproval crossing his face.
Blade tucked his watch back in his waistcoat. “Go on, off with you. No drink. No women. And keep your knives close.”
“That go for you too, ey, boss?” O’Shay shot him a leer.
“Miz Todd ain’t the sort of woman you’d be likely consortin’ with,” Blade replied. “And this serves a purpose. I ain’t forgotten ’bout Vickers.”
Even the men could hear the sound of her footsteps now, and then the brief rap on the door. Lark stuck her head in. “Miz Pryor’s ’ere. You want I should let ’er in?”
A brief swirl of Honoria’s scent swept through him, reminding him of the previous night. His blood heated. “Aye. Send for a light supper.” No doubt she’d barely eaten. “Some o’ that kidney pie and fresh bread Esme baked for dinner. And a pot o’ tea.” Ladies liked tea, didn’t they?
O’Shay snickered under his breath as he and the other men filed from the room. A cascade of striped skirts glimmered in the hallway, and each of the men took their fill of her. Honoria’s eyes widened at the sight of them and she politely murmured greetings. Then her gaze lifted and met Blade’s.
For a moment he felt as though the air was thick with the mysterious charged lightning the Echelon could produce. Though her cheeks were thin and pale, there was no sign of surrender in her eyes. She had come here with her defenses fully raised.
Blade dragged the stuffed armchair around, placing it close to the fire. The autumn nights were still long, yet a hint of winter’s chill hung in the night air. “Come,” he said, gesturing toward the chair.
Honoria tugged at her kid gloves. He pretended not to notice how thin and worn they were as he took her hat. Thick braids formed a coronet on her head, and her dress was an eye-watering confection of charcoal and white stripes. The cut of the cloth juxtaposed against itself, the stripes forming different slanting angles. A scrap of lace edged her throat, hiding the enticing glimpse of her carotid artery. Covered from top to toe. He almost felt like laughing. Did she really think it would be so easy? She reminded him of a present, just begging to be unwrapped. Starting with the buttons at her wrists. His lips, cool on the soft skin there as he licked the pale veins, feeling the pulse of her blood against his tongue. From there his mind took a detour. A slow exploration of the spill
“And what about tonight?” Will asked.
“It’s glutted for the moment,” Blade said. “Won’t be out till the ’unger builds up again. We’ve got a day or two, at most. Tomorrow I want the word spread. I’m puttin’ martial law down on the rookery. Let ’em think it’s ’cos we’re about to go to war with the Ech’lon. Nobody’s allowed out at night past dusk.”
“People won’t like it,” Rip said.
“They don’t ’ave to like it,” Blade replied. He slid into his armchair, hooking his left ankle up on his knee. “If they’re caught out on the streets, they’ll answer to me. And they’d better have a bloody good answer.”
“So what’ll we do?” Rip asked, kneeling down and offering Puss a piece of hardtack from his pocket.
“Get some rest,” Blade said. “I’ve got the rookery lads keepin’ watch for the night with whistles. So keep your boots on, boys, just in case we get a sightin’. Tomorrow I want maps. We’ll mark out the areas we’ve searched and try to pinpoint where it mighta ’oled up—”
Will turned and sniffed at the air. “Someone’s comin’.”
Blade tugged his pocket watch out and examined it. Nine o’clock. If it was Honoria, she was early.
“Miss Todd,” Will said, a flash of disapproval crossing his face.
Blade tucked his watch back in his waistcoat. “Go on, off with you. No drink. No women. And keep your knives close.”
“That go for you too, ey, boss?” O’Shay shot him a leer.
“Miz Todd ain’t the sort of woman you’d be likely consortin’ with,” Blade replied. “And this serves a purpose. I ain’t forgotten ’bout Vickers.”
Even the men could hear the sound of her footsteps now, and then the brief rap on the door. Lark stuck her head in. “Miz Pryor’s ’ere. You want I should let ’er in?”
A brief swirl of Honoria’s scent swept through him, reminding him of the previous night. His blood heated. “Aye. Send for a light supper.” No doubt she’d barely eaten. “Some o’ that kidney pie and fresh bread Esme baked for dinner. And a pot o’ tea.” Ladies liked tea, didn’t they?
O’Shay snickered under his breath as he and the other men filed from the room. A cascade of striped skirts glimmered in the hallway, and each of the men took their fill of her. Honoria’s eyes widened at the sight of them and she politely murmured greetings. Then her gaze lifted and met Blade’s.
For a moment he felt as though the air was thick with the mysterious charged lightning the Echelon could produce. Though her cheeks were thin and pale, there was no sign of surrender in her eyes. She had come here with her defenses fully raised.
Blade dragged the stuffed armchair around, placing it close to the fire. The autumn nights were still long, yet a hint of winter’s chill hung in the night air. “Come,” he said, gesturing toward the chair.
Honoria tugged at her kid gloves. He pretended not to notice how thin and worn they were as he took her hat. Thick braids formed a coronet on her head, and her dress was an eye-watering confection of charcoal and white stripes. The cut of the cloth juxtaposed against itself, the stripes forming different slanting angles. A scrap of lace edged her throat, hiding the enticing glimpse of her carotid artery. Covered from top to toe. He almost felt like laughing. Did she really think it would be so easy? She reminded him of a present, just begging to be unwrapped. Starting with the buttons at her wrists. His lips, cool on the soft skin there as he licked the pale veins, feeling the pulse of her blood against his tongue. From there his mind took a detour. A slow exploration of the spill
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