"Sometimes. I worry about them," I said. That was true.
"Wel , then I suppose we're kindred spirits," Violet said. "You truly saved me. I don't know what I would have done in the park, there, by myself."
"Did you . . . see anyone?" I asked. It was the question I hadn't asked her last night. But now, in the light of day, I needed to know.
She shook her head. "I don't think so. It was so dark, and I could barely see in front of me. But I felt the wind pick up, and then I saw the trees moving. When I glanced over, I saw that awful message. And I knew it was written in blood. I felt something. I felt . . ." She shuddered.
"What did you feel?" I asked gently.
Violet sighed, distress obvious on her face. "I felt like I was surrounded by evil. Something was there. I thought I was going to be attacked, and then you came and - "
"I brought you here," I said quickly. I knew exactly how she felt. It was a feeling I suffered from back in New York, when I was sure Klaus was near.
I fumbled in my pocket. "And now, your Saint Stefan has one more thing for you. Take this," I said, pressing a pendant into her hand. It was a vial of vervain on a gold chain.
"What is it?" she asked, swinging the pendant back and forth. It caught the flickering light of the candle on the table.
"A good luck charm," I said. Vervain was poisonous to me, and I could stil feel its effects through the glass barrier of the vial. But I carried it everywhere. So far, I'd never had to use it. And I only hoped that Violet wouldn't have to, either.
"I need luck," Violet said, clasping the pendant around her neck. As long as she had that, she couldn't be compel ed, not even by me. We now were ful y bound to each other by trust alone.
"So do I," I said.
And then, she stood up on her tiptoes and al owed her lips to graze my cheek. "To luck," she whispered in my ear.
I grinned at her. Hel itself may have been hunting these streets, but at least I had a friend. And as I'd learned in my long life, that was no smal thing.
Chapter Six
In the light of day, the winding London streets didn't seem nearly as intimidating as they had during my wild run the night before. Carriages filed the roads, peddlers on the corners hawked everything from flowers to newspapers to tobacco, and a cacophony of languages made it impossible to pick out any distinct conversations. I walked east, fol owing the flow of the Thames, the river that had become my North Star in orienting myself in London. The dark and murky water looked foreboding, as though it had secrets buried far beneath its surface. I wished I could just take Violet and leave this city. I could keep her safe for now, but how long would that last? Al I could think of was the look of terror on Violet's face, her smal voice, the strength she had to leave her family in Ireland to fol ow her dream. She had a courageous streak that Rosalyn hadn't, but her youthful innocence made me nostalgic for the time when I was her age. It was my fault she had lost her room and board and I wanted to protect her in any way I could.
People are our downfall. Interacting with them is what undoes us. Your heart is too soft. It had been something Lexi told me many times over the years. I'd always nod, but sometimes I'd question why. Because while it was easy enough to avoid humans when I was in the company of Lexi, I seemed to instinctively seek out their company when I was by myself. And why was that so wrong? Just because I was a monster didn't mean that I no longer valued companionship.
So when will my heart harden? I'd asked, impatient.
She'd laughed. I hope it won't. It's the part of you that keeps you human. I suppose that's your blessing and your curse.
As I walked to Whitechapel, I stopped midway in St. James Park, my thirst growing. I knew if I was heading back to the tavern, I would have to be at my strongest. Unlike the nightmarish Dutfield Park from last night, this field was sprawling and lush, ful of ponds and trees and pedestrians enjoying impromptu picnics. It was vast; but at first glance stil seemed smal er than Central Park in New York City, where I'd once spent several hungry weeks foraging for food.
Clouds had once again rol ed into the sky, bathing the whole city in darkness. It was only noon, but there was no sign of the sun. The air felt wet and heavy with rain, despite the lack of actual drops. It was never like this in Ivinghoe. The weather there seemed more honest, somehow. When it looked like it would rain, it rained. Here, nothing was as it seemed.
I sniffed the air. Even though I couldn't see them, I knew animals were everywhere, hiding under the brush or scampering in tunnels just beneath the grass. I headed toward a dense col ection of trees, hoping I could capture a bird or a squirrel without anyone noticing.
A disturbance in the bushes caused me to stiffen. Without thinking, I used my vampire reflexes to reach into them, trapping a fat gray squirrel in my hands. Relying only on instinct, I sunk my teeth into the tiny creature's neck and sucked out its blood, trying not to gag. City squirrels tasted different than country squirrels, and this one had watery, bitter-tasting blood. Stil , it would have to do.
I threw the carcass into the bushes and wiped my mouth. Suddenly, I heard a rustle coming from the far end of the forest. I whirled around, half-expecting to see Klaus, ready for a fight. Nothing.
I sighed, my stomach final y quieting now that it was satiated.
And now that I was prepared, I headed to the Ten Bel s Tavern, ready to compel Alfred into giving Violet her job back. As expected, the air smel ed musty and sharp, like the scent of ale mixed with unwashed human bodies.
"Alfred?" I cal ed, my eyes once again adjusting to the near nighttime blackness of the bar. I wasn't looking forward to speaking to him. He was loathsome, and even though my compel ing would ensure Violet would be treated kindly, I hated the thought of her returning here. But I knew it was the best thing for her. Because the more she became involved with me, the more danger she'd be in. That was something I knew as clearly as the message written in blood on the wal .