3

The heat was atrocious, and Devon was sure she’d faint if she didn’t get some air. So, while everyone was distracted, Devon slipped outside. She stepped out onto the stone terrace overlooking the garden below. It was in full bloom thanks to the sweltering heat and the recent rain they had lately. Devon walked over to the banister and lazily leaned against it while she fanned herself vigorously, her hand gliding over her stomach. She had overeaten at dinner; she was straining the capacity of her corset. She hated these things. They were so uncomfortable and so unforgiving. She could eat like a bird, and the bloody thing would start to hurt.

“It’s a fine night, is it not?” A male voice startled Devon, and she jumped, standing up straight when she noticed Lord Granger step out of the shadows and into the moonlight. She didn’t think it possible, but his eyes seemed even brighter in the dark.

“Oh, Lord Granger,” Devon curtsied once more.

“No, please,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “no formalities,” he then smiled. “I have had about all the courtesy I can stand for one night,” he stepped closer. “Lady Lock, if my memory serves me, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled, surprised he remembered her name out of all the names he’d heard that night.

“Are you sneaking away?” He asked playfully.

“Oh no,” she blushed, “it was just so hot in there. I needed a breath of fresh air,” Devon felt uncomfortable alone out here with the Count. If they were to be discovered alone in the dark, it would be detrimental to her already tarnished reputation. “Well, I think I have had enough air,” she said, making for the door, but the Count stepped in front of her cutting off her escape.

“So, you are a Lady. There must be a Lord,” he said leadingly.

“Yes,” She said awkwardly. Her hands felt clammy, so she wiped her palms on her stomach. “Lord Dorian Lock, Baron of Burdett.”

“Husband?” He asked, watching her closely.

“Son, actually. I am a widow,” she said, waiting for the reaction she usually got when she confessed to being a single mother.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“Was it recent?”

“No, he died before our son was born.”

“How did he die?”

He was asking a lot of personal questions. “The ship he was on suck.”

“That’s too bad. It must have been tough for a new bride to lose her husband while expecting a child.”

“Yes,” she said uncomfortably, “well, we all have our crosses to bear,” Devon tried to step around him, but he shifted his weight and blocked her again.

“So quick to leave me,” he smiled wickedly. “Do you fear me?”

“I fear what you will do to my reputation,” she said honestly. “Alone out here with you is scandalizes.”

“But you are a widow; surely, you are granted leniencies.”

“Society is not as forgiving of women as they are men.”

“Then we shall go back inside, and you will grace me with a dance?” He proposed.

Devon offered Lord Granger a confused look. “You want to dance with me?”

“Very much so.”

His eager request was suspicious. “Why?”

“Why not?” He chuckled when she eyed him suspiciously. “Must I have a nefarious reason?”

“It is my experience that most men do.”

He took on a severe look. “That is a shame. Well, I don’t. I simply wish to talk.”

“Talk always leads to more.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he assured her.

“Wouldn’t you rather converse with one of the more attractive guests?”

“That is what I am trying to do, but the most beautiful woman at the party is refusing to talk to me,” he smiled.

Devon glared at Lord Granger. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“You, Sir, are a liar. I do not take well to liars. I have been duped once by a handsome face. I will not allow it to happen twice,” she snarled and pushed him out of the way, leaving his Lordship on the terrace alone and confused. Devon made her way through the party and found Eleanor, who was talking to an old widow. “I wish to leave.”

“Heaven sakes, why?” Eleanor asked with great concern.

Devon tried to compose herself. “I have just had enough socializing. I’m flush and tired. I want to go home.”

Eleanor looked over Devon’s shoulder and saw Lord Granger coming inside, and she speculated he was the source of Devon’s abrupt desire to leave. “Has something happened?”

“No. I’m just terribly tired,” Devon lied, flustered.

“Well, I suppose we have stayed long enough. I will fetch Sully, and we will take our leave,” Eleanor promised and went in search of her husband. It didn’t take long for her sister-in-law to return with her brother. Sully was eager to leave, as well. They said goodbye to their host and were escorted outside to their carriage. Sully helped the ladies inside and then climbed in and pulled the door closed. Now that they were alone, Eleanor asked. “What did that man do to you?”

“What, man?” Sully asked with great concern. “Who did what?”

“Nobody did anything,” she said, thinking back to their conversation. Perhaps she had overreacted. Still, she felt leaving to be the best decision. “I just grew tired.”

“Are you going to spend the night with us, or would you like for us to take you home?” Sully asked.

She wanted to go home. She’d been away for two days now shopping with Eleanor. She wanted to see her son and sleep in her bed. “Please take me home.”

***

Amadeus walked into the house before dawn. Phillip shut the door and walked through the house quickly, making sure all the thick heavy drapes were drawn to keep the rising sun out. While he did that, Amadeus continued his way upstairs to his bedroom. Phillip joined him shortly and helped him out of his clothes. He stripped down to his cotton shorts, and then he walked over to the high-backed chair by the fireplace where Phillip sat down and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, extending his bare arm, which was covered in bite wounds, some healed and others fresh.

Amadeus knelt on the floor beside him and took Phillip’s arm in his hands. His lips snarled, and his fangs descended. Amadeus dug his fangs into Phillip’s forearm and began to drink. He was starving. He drank and drank, and he barely heard Phillip’s weakened pleas. “Master… I am getting woozy,” it took all of Amadeus’ self-restraint to stop. He pulled back and growled.

It took a minute for the madness to pass, and Amadeus noticed Phillip had fainted from lack of blood. He would need to recover and would not be ready for another feeding for days. Amadeus got up and lifted Phillip from the chair. He carried his old friend to the bed laying him out on the mattress and tucking him in.

Amadeus crossed the room to the encasement in which he slept. He’d had it made specifically for him many years ago, and it was the one thing he took to every new home. A steel forger had made it. It was a one-inch thick steel box, much like a coffin, but was filled with four inches of warm water. Amadeus climbed inside and laid down, sinking into the water. He reached up and pulled the heavy lid closed, trapping himself inside. When he was in the box, he was at peace. His senses, which were usually sensitive and in tune with everything around him, were dulled. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t smell anything. And he couldn’t feel anything. His senses were deprived entirely, and he could sleep in peace.