The fabric was heavy, and lacing the back was difficult with only one person. I finally realized why Mrs. Kerry kept asking if I wanted help. I wasn’t good at girly stuff, and it probably looked like a child had laced and knotted it, but the important thing was that the gown was secure.
I grabbed the dress that Enoch gifted me and deliberated about what to do with it; whether I should stash it somewhere and come back for it later, or just take it with me. The dense fabric was still wet and dripping, and I held it away from me so the water didn’t ruin the gown I’d stolen.
Glancing up, I saw a familiar face – one I’d know anywhere.
Abram.
He looked well enough as he strolled down the muddy street. There was no wound on his neck. Was it possible that his suit accelerated his healing and stopped his transition to vampire? If that was the case, it must mean Titus was here somewhere, and that his abdominal wound had healed.
Abram ducked into a tavern. When the door closed behind him, I bunched up the sodden gown and hid it in the roots of a nearby line of hedges.
I quickly crossed the street and slid into the tavern, keeping my back to the wall, careful to duck under the sconces nailed into the stone. Each sconce held a thick, white candle, and beneath each candle was a slow-growing stalagmite of wax drippings. The flame of one of the candles flickered as I passed by. I hated candles. They may provide light, but they also made the lurking shadows darker. Edward’s warning came back to me. He said not to fear the dark, but to fear the things hiding within the darkness.
That had to be where Abram was, because he wasn’t anywhere in the crowd. I kept my eyes open, scanning every face while trying not to stare at the couples openly groping one another and making out so hard, they looked like they were almost having sex against the walls. Some of them might have been.
If Abram thought my actions with the vamp in the arena were suggestive, maybe this place would teach him a lesson in indecency. The only time any of these couples let go of one another and came up for air was to chug down more rum. Then they were right back at it.
A glassy-eyed, middle aged man with greasy, mud-brown hair stepped in front of me and belched in my face. I waved the stench away and tried to step around him, but he moved with me, placing himself in my path. “How much?” he slurred, blinking his eyes rapidly.
“How much what?”
“Coin. For a few hours of your time,” he replied, looking from my eyes to my breasts.
My fists tightened. “What exactly are you insinuating?” My teeth ground together and I was struck with the sudden urge to knock him out.
“There you are,” an icily familiar voice purred from behind me as hands settled on either side of my waist. Every muscle in my body stiffened. “Murphy, are you bothering the lady?”
Murphy stood up straighter and gave a sloppy salute before staggering away to find some other woman to make vomit.
I turned to find Abram standing behind me. I stepped out of his reach, noticing that his hair was a few inches longer than it was when I left thirteen forty-eight. “Cut the act. I’ve been looking for you.”
He smiled. “Have you, now? Well, now that you’ve found me, what do you intend to do with me?”
“Are you insane?” I whisper-yelled. “Did you hit your head or something?”
He gave me a look I couldn’t read and ticked his head to the left, walking farther into the establishment into a shadow-cloaked corner. Fine. He wanted to talk? I followed him into the darkness where he grabbed my waist, spun me around, and pushed me backward. He leaned in toward my lips.
I pushed hard on his chest, stopping him. “What the hell? Are you trying to kiss me?”
“I am.” He leaned in again, his eyes searching mine for permission he wouldn’t find. I’d show him what the word no meant. I reached for my stakes, finding a handful of fabric, instead. Damn it! I forgot to tear a hole in my new dress to access my weapons. Then again, I didn’t really need them. Not with Abram.
Using my forearm, I pinned him against the grimy wall. His nostrils flared and he clutched my arm, twisting the skin until it stung, but I held tight. Unable to free himself, his countenance darkened.
There he is.
I thought his memory had somehow been wiped during landing, and that I might have to deliver a blow to him like I did the tech on the back of my hand. But apparently, a simple throat squeeze was all it took to jog his memory.
Anger burned brightly in his eyes and a vein pulsated on his forehead. I enjoyed the look of hatred until the moment it changed, morphing into something even more disturbing; a look filled with lust and longing, completely out of place on Abram’s face when he looked at mine.
He relaxed his hold on my wrists and ran his fingers from my wrists to my elbows. Then he tried to pull me into him. I pushed him away. “Touch me again, and I’ll castrate you.”
He grinned, clutching his jaw. “Never pegged you for that type.” He advanced on me, heat blazing in his dark eyes. “But I don’t mind, love. You can be as rough as you like.”
I put my hand out. “Abram, stop. I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but touch me again and I’ll end our feud once and for all.”
He stopped advancing and ticked his head back. “Abram?”
“Yes!” I stepped around a cavorting couple, strategically placing them between us.
“Come on. We’ve been sneakin’ around for weeks and you’ve never called me by my name. Only my number.” His words trailed away and he looked at me like he’d seen a ghost.
A sinking feeling filled my stomach.
The voice was Abram’s, but the accent wasn’t.
“You’re messing with me,” he decided aloud, giving me a look that said he didn’t believe me. Dropping his voice to a low, sensual tone, he took a step forward. “You don’t remember last night? I could demonstrate–”
I put my hand out to stop his advance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t want a demonstration. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m done.” I turned and strode past the lascivious dancing and kissing and drinking, pushed the tavern door open, and welcomed the fresh, salty breeze that ran its fingers through my hair.
Why would Enoch want to live here?
Abram stepped out of the tavern and stalked toward me, a determined look on his face. “Wait,” he began.
I pulled the seam of my gown at the waist until it ripped apart and reached for my stake. I pointed it at his chin, but he knew it would sink into his chest if I threw it hard enough. “Stop right there or I’ll end you.” He nodded and held his hands up. “Where is Asa?” I asked.
A haunted look slid over Abram’s face.
His head swiveled as he looked all around us. It was just me and him, and then a drunk pissing on the tavern’s outer wall. His features turned to stone. “Don’t say that name around here. Do you understand?” Abram started toward me, reaching for something hidden beneath his jacket. “I understand you aren’t who I thought you were, but –”
The sound of a metallic click filled the air, somehow louder than all the boisterous music and laughing from inside, louder than the wind blowing over the land. Abram stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as he slowly turned his head to his left. The click came from a pistol; a pistol whose long barrel was being pressed against Abram’s temple.