The Queen's Vampire (The Vampire Spy Book 1)

by K. T. Tomb

  Chapter Three

  Truth be told, Nora had been grateful for the ride. She had been in a weakened state after vomiting in the gutter. Getting out of the sun and being able to rest in the comfort of the carriage seat had lifted her spirits a bit. It was the surprising conversation that had really brought her back to life.

  To assume that she, Nora Kelly, could ever live in luxury, not want for food, dress in fine clothing and have all of the comforts of life, was completely unbelievable. It was so far out of the realm of possibilities, that it had made her suspicious of him immediately. That suspicion and her instinct toward survival had forced the pain and nausea of the morning out of her system.

  She knew men and their deceptive ways; even the deceptive ways of gentlemen. They visited women like her to take as much pleasure as they could while paying as little as they could get away with. Her adolescent love of Patrick Murray had taught her all she needed to know about the ways of men. Patrick had been falling all over himself to win her, up until she’d given up her virginity to him. While she set her eyes on a home, children and growing old together, he fixed his on sipping nectar from the next flower to come along; Emily O’Toole. When she caught the two of them without a stitch of clothing on—in the same hay mow where she’d given herself to him, no less—her world had collapsed around her.

  “You’ve lied to me, Patrick,” she’d shouted at him.

  “No more than you’ve lied to me,” he’d returned. “I wasn’t your first, like you said.”

  “But you were,” she’d responded as the torrent of sobs pulled her under.

  The memory of Patrick walking away and refusing to listen to her still burned into her memory as though it had taken place that same morning. She shoved aside the painful images of her memories of home and family in Ireland and focused back on the conversation she’d had with Covington in the carriage. She smiled at her comment about “servicing the queen” and realized that that clever turn had frustrated Covington.

  “All the better,” she muttered as she started up the stairway to her second floor flat.

  Her mind jumped to the strange, nude woman who had been lying with her on the opium bed and wondered again what had transpired in that room before she’d lost consciousness. What had she done? Who had she serviced for free in that room? I’ll never do that again, she promised herself. In fact, it was the same promise she made to herself the last time she’d awakened sick, and the time before that, and the time before that, and… she could have gone on, but it was terrible to do so, and the churning in her stomach was warning her that her insides were wanting to attempt to become outsides once more.

  Nora hurried up the stairs, rushed through the door into her apartment, and ran straight for the chamber pot in her bedroom.

  “Hello Nora,” Kate and Mary said in turn as she passed through the common room.

  When Nora finished heaving, she went straight to her bed and collapsed onto it.

  “Did you go to Emma’s again?” Mary called out.

  Nora didn’t answer. What would be the point in that?

  Kate appeared in her doorway several seconds later.

  “Oh, Nora, look at your face,” Kate exclaimed, moving across the room toward her. “Why didn’t you keep it covered up? You know what happens when you’re out in the sun.”

  “I tried, but I had to stop and vomit.”

  “It looks like you’ve stuck your hands and face in a fire,” Kate commented, her voice sympathetic.

  “That’s what it feels like too,” Nora groaned. “It’s because of my pale skin.”

  “It’s more than that,” Kate objected. She held up her arm next to Nora’s. “My skin is as pale as yours and I don’t burn that way.”

  “Imagine if I hadn’t gotten a ride in that carriage.”

  “You rode in a carriage?”

  “Just for a short while,” she replied. “A man of some means—Alfred Covington gave me a ride. He said he would—”

  “Who rode in a carriage?” Mary interrupted, stepping into the doorway. But her tone changed when she saw Nora’s face and hands. “Nora, you’ve blistered again.”

  “I should know better than to stay at Emma’s until daylight. This happens every time.”

  “You should know better than to go to Emma’s at all,” Mary retorted. “Look at you. You’re barely alive.”

  “Mary, you’re not helping,” Kate growled.

  “I want to know about the carriage,” Mary said, dodging Kate’s rebuke. “A wealthy man gave you a ride, you say?”

  “He said he could help me with my... condition, make it so that I never want for anything again, plenty to eat, dressed in the latest fashions and live in the finest houses.” Despite the appeal of it all, Nora snorted.

  “Was he proposing marriage?” Mary asked, giggling.

  Nora shook her head. “He said that I would be in service to Her Majesty.”

  “Queen Victoria?” Mary asked.

  “Do you know of another person who goes by Her Majesty?” Kate snapped.

  “But what possible service would you be able to perform for the queen?” Mary wrinkled her brow as she asked the question.

  Kate’s eyes narrowed. “No doubt he was trying to take you to one of those Magdalene asylums.”

  “What did you tell him?” Mary asked.

  “I told him sure, I’ll go with you,” Nora snapped. “What do you think I told him?”

  “It has to be an asylum,” Kate continued, almost to herself. “Those places are hell-bent on driving Satan out of soiled women. They do it by working you to your death washing clothes and delivering a continuous harangue about how disgusting prostitution is. You want nothing to do with that, Nora.”

  “Of course not,” Nora responded. “And how do you know so much about the Magdalene asylums?”

  “Do you remember Sarah?” Kate asked. “I saw her a while back and she told me all about it. She was taken to one of them after being approached by some wealthy woman who promised her food, care and a place to sleep. She told her she wouldn’t have to work her nasty job anymore. I could tell that Sarah regretted her decision, but couldn’t cut loose from them. I think they brainwashed her somehow.”

  “Brainwash?” Mary’s eyes widened. “You mean they take away all your freedom; even to think your own thoughts?”

  “That’s what it sounded like to me,” Kate replied.

  “You’re not really considering his offer, are you, Nora?” Mary asked.

  “No.” The force with which she voiced her answer made her stomach start to churn again. “But I need to lay back and try to rest.”

  Chapter Four

  In spite of the fact that Nora Kelly had flatly refused his offer, Alfred couldn’t help thinking about her and the possibilities for her as he went on his way to Fobbing.

  He easily recognized the mark on her. She had a severe case of blistering on her hands and face and had only been, as far as he could gather, in the sun for a few moments. Besides that, she was clearly a prostitute, which made her another likely candidate for the newly-established agency.

  He had recruited several men on behalf of the Duke of Cambridge, but he had been specifically ordered to look for some women as well. Not being particularly adept at conversing with the fairer sex, however, he’d failed to recruit a single woman up to that point. Nora Kelly had been his opportunity to turn that trend around.

  “Forget it, Alfred,” he muttered to himself. “They must come willingly or it’s of no use.” With that rebuke of himself, he turned his thoughts toward his mission in Fobbing.

  He had been informed that there was a particular person there who was already among the immortal dead and might be recruited into service. Recruiting such a person had its advantages because neither he nor the Duke of Cambridge would need to convince their new charge to be transformed.

  Of course, working with one of the immortal dead also came at a tremendous risk. Should Covington happen upon one when he or she was thi
rsty for blood—or particularly aroused—he, Covington, might find a pair of fangs penetrating his own neck. For that eventuality, he was armed with a cross, garlic and, should things become particularly nasty, a stake.

  Arriving in Fobbing, his thoughts were focused on the task at hand and he directed his pair of black steeds toward the abandoned and dilapidated house at the far end of Forest Lane. At one point, it had been a grand house and might have become one again, were it not occupied by a fierce immortal whose desire for blood tended to drive away those who might consider purchasing and restoring the house.

  Quitting the carriage and securing the horses to the post in front of the house, Alfred returned to the boot at the back of the carriage, opened it and armed himself with his three most powerful objects. In reality, Alfred’s mission was twofold. Ideally, he would recruit the immortal into the service of Her Majesty’s agency; failing that task, he was to rid Fobbing of this particular undesirable personage. It mattered little to Alfred which path he was ultimately forced to navigate.

  He wasn’t fond of vampires, nor did he despise them. He carried out whichever duty was necessary, just like he had been doing well before the Duke had recruited him to help with the new agency. Covington, after all, had been a renowned vampire hunter and had begun to accumulate a great deal of wealth due to his success; success which had attracted the attention of the Royals.

  Armed with his knowledge, experience, and his weapons, Alfred strode with purpose down the stone walkway, up the steps, across the wide porch and approached the weathered door of the dilapidated house. He crossed himself, inhaled and exhaled purposefully, and reached for the knob. Without further hesitation, he turned it, pushed the door open and stepped into the house.

  Inside the door, Alfred hesitated, allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. There was no need to call out and announce himself. If there was a vampire resident in the house, he’d know it within a few minutes. Even if the creature was asleep, he’d probably be awakened by the scent of mortal blood and come to greet his guest. Whether he would come like a debonair and seductive gentleman or in a rage was yet to be seen. Alfred took several steps into the room, leaving the door open to cast a bit of ambient light into the room, and waited.

  He heard the hiss and the charging footsteps before he saw the dark entity materialize within the shadows. He sidestepped the figure and held up the cross, catching some of the sunlight spilling through the door upon its reflective, silver surface.

  “Down!” he commanded.

  The vampire shrunk away from him and slipped back into the shadow. Alfred could see his telltale glowing red eyes. “What do you want with me?” he hissed.

  “To have a discussion, if you can behave yourself,” Alfred responded.

  “A taste of your blood and we can talk all you like.”

  “That’s not going to happen, hell-spawn. I’ve come on behalf of Her Majesty, Victoria, Queen of the Realm of England. I am extending an offer for you to live in peace among mortals, to never again thirst for that which you desire most, and to be trained to perform a special service for the benefit of the Realm.”

  The red eyes flared. “I’ve no desire to serve the Realm!”

  “You’ll also be able to return to the light of day,” Alfred continued patiently. He hadn’t been overly optimistic about his chances of recruiting this vampire to begin with, but he was also a realist. Recruiting a vampire allowed the agency to skip several steps of the orientation process. “You won’t want for money, food, clothing, or shelter. You will have the eternal gratitude of the Realm for your service.”

  “Damn the Realm! Damn you!” the vampire screeched. He dodged away from the cross and attempted to flank Alfred.

  Alfred, no stranger to conflicts with the undead, lowered the cross and as the vampire leapt at him, he brought the stake up and drove it deep into his heart, using the force of the vampire’s own momentum against him. He turned, continuing to hold the stake in place and knelt in a smooth motion as the vampire struck the floor.

  “You ought to have taken my offer,” he said in a low tone.

  There was a moment of recognition followed by a flash of remorse before the body began to shrivel up and disintegrate into dust beneath him.

  Alfred sighed, standing, realizing that, ultimately, he had not been victorious. He had never relished this necessary—but difficult—task and rarely celebrated when the damned were finally dead. He turned toward the door, strolled through it, and closed it behind him.

  With his tools replaced in the boot of the carriage, he untied the horses, mounted the carriage, turned back down Forest Lane, and then back toward London. The moment he was outside of Fobbing, his mind returned to thoughts of Nora. He wasn’t sure how he was going to convince her, but he knew that she was exactly who the agency needed.

  Chapter Five

  Nora felt better after getting some sleep.

  A light broth and a crust of bread were beginning to restore her to some sense of normalcy, but she was still in no condition to entertain clients. Examining the rash on the back of her hands, she went to the mirror to look at her face; something she had avoided up until that point. She tried not to shriek when she saw the rash around her eyes and along her cheeks. She turned away quickly, gasping.

  “A cup of tea,” she whispered. It was an attempt to divert her mind from the fact that the combination of the rash, the opium, and the hard-living had transformed her from a somewhat youthful beauty to something... hideous. At twenty-two, I ought not look like I’m fifty. She forced the thought out of her mind and went to the kitchen to make tea.

  She was returning to her room with the tea when a knock sounded at the door. Kate emerged from her own room, glancing in Nora’s direction. “It’s a bit early for clients, isn’t it?”

  Nora didn’t linger to debate the question. She quickly disappeared into her room and closed the door. In the state she was in, she had no interest in being seen by anyone, least of all clients. Now, she sipped her tea and listened to the sound of muffled voices in the common room outside. The tone had started out amiably enough, but after some moments transformed into something less cordial.

  Kate’s voice came through clearly. “I told you, sir, that she is not seeing clients today. Please remove yourself from these premises or I will summon the authorities.”

  “I will see her now, but if you prefer to call upon the authorities, then please do,” said the firm voice. Nora knew the voice. “I represent Her Majesty and I will not be trifled with.”

  Knowing that only she could deal with the situation at hand, she found a sun hat from which to cover her face and went to the door of her room. With a sigh, she opened it and called out. “It’s okay, Kate. I will speak to Mister Covington.”

  “I tried to tell him—” Kate began.

  “You did fine, thank you,” Nora interrupted. She noted that Mary, too, was in her doorway and ready to advance on the intruder as well. “This is the gentleman who was kind enough to give me a ride home in his carriage this morning. I’m sure he’s only come to check upon my welfare.”

  “Indeed,” Alfred said in a lower tone, but still with some authority behind it. He produced a sum of silver coins that were about three times her usual rate. “I intend to compensate you for your time. Is this sufficient?”

  She wasn’t sure if she should accept the sum without question or to point out that it was way too much. After all, he was disturbing her at a time when she really didn’t want to be seen. She took the middle ground. “That is more than enough, Mister Covington, though I’m certain that I will be returning most of it to you because our time will be very short.”

  “Nevertheless, it is yours,” he responded, placing the coins in her palm. He glanced around uncomfortably, not sure if he was to sit on one of the divans in the common room or what he was supposed to do. He obviously didn’t frequent the houses of prostitutes often.

  “Come with me,” Nora smiled, taking his hand and leading him
toward her room. It was devilish of her to lead him to her room just as she would do with a common client, but she decided that by playing the role which with she was most comfortable, she might gain an advantage over his discomfort. Once inside the room, Nora directed him to a cushioned chair. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Though she suspected that it wasn’t Covington’s purpose to be entertained by her, she turned her back and began to slide the gown from her shoulders. Nude above the waist, she turned to face him, unabashed. “Mister Covington, wouldn’t you like to make yourself more comfortable?”

  “I uh… well no…” Alfred Covington stammered. He stared at her bare breasts a moment before diverting his eyes. “That is not why I am here. Please, put the gown back on.”

  Nora, knowing she had the advantage over him, decided to press it. She pushed out her lower lip from beneath her wide-brimmed hat. “Am I not desirable to you? Perhaps you would prefer Kate or Mary. I can call one of them.”

  “Nora, stop,” he snapped. “I know what you are trying to do. Please.”

  “Very well,” she sighed. She pulled the gown up over her shoulders and took a seat in the cushioned chair adjacent to him. Irritated by him, but also intrigued, she decided to fire off a different type of salvo. After all, her ancestors weren’t only known for their ability to fight, but for their ability to talk... and to do so loudly. “I will tell you up front, Mister Covington, that I have no interest in the Magdalene asylum. I am a free woman and I intend to stay that way!”

  “Magdalene asylum?” He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

  “I’m sure that the promises that you made to me earlier were only a means of tricking me into coming away with you to one of those hideous penitentiaries where they make slaves of women like me.”

  “My promises come from the highest level of the Realm, from Her Majesty herself.”

  “That is the part that I’m struggling with!” Nora snapped. “I’m having a very hard time believing that!”