William (Echoes of Ossiria #1)

by Vivian Lane

  “Hey…your head is brown?” Catherine asked, sounding surprised to see me.

  I skidded to a stop. “What are you doin’ up?”

  She held up a mug. “Warm milk. I couldn’t get to sleep. Bad night?”

  With her hair down, face scrubbed clean, and flannel pajamas, she barely appeared all of her eighteen years. Wholesome beauty untainted. And so tempting.

  “Went out for a drive.” I walked to the liquor cabinet, took out my key, and unlocked it.

  I needed a lot more to drink.

  “Wearing cologne?” she said.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing. What’s with the hair?”

  “I don’t go out blond in public anymore.” My natural color was darker blond, close to light brown. After the incident in London, it was prudent to disguise myself if I left the house.

  “Merely curious since I’m awake and sitting here.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat, love.” I selected Glenlivet and drank straight from the bottle. “Run off to bed if you don’t like my answers.”

  “Good thing I’m not a cat,” she said, stirring her milk.

  I straddled a chair across from her as she sipped from the mug. “The kitten, then. Still applies.”

  “If I were to guess, you planned to blow off some steam.”

  “And now?”

  “Still looking to…hence the bottle,” she said

  I took another generous pull. “Hm.” Narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing her. She blinked innocently over her cup. Time to turn the tables. “It’s almost Halloween, you know…”

  “Is it?”

  I nodded once. “It’s when we’re going to the theatre.”

  Her eyes widened. “The end of October is next week?”

  “Miss Meticulous doesn’t know what day it is?” I teased.

  “I have… I-I do, it’s just… I lost track of the date, okay? Happens when your world’s turned upside down. I should be cramming for midterms, then pigging out on pizza with my roommate. God, she’s gotta be so worried by now…”

  “You were chummy?”

  She nodded. “Fast friends. We arrived to move in to the dorm on the same day, then kept bumping into each other after that. Bonded over a love of Chaucer, among other things.” She smiled, remembering. “That was in August. Feels longer.” She took another sip from the mug.

  Might be the alcohol warming my stomach, but I found her frustrated pout adorable. “So what would you rather be doing now?”

  “Carrying on with what I was. My goal was to get my teaching degree eventually. Did you go to college when you were human?”

  “You think I might’ve?”

  “Yep. I know Alicia well enough now to see what about all this isn’t her. Gives you away as being an educated man back in the day.”

  Another swig from the bottle brought it down to half empty. “I was, in another lifetime. Right in London. Wasn’t a bad time, all things considered.”

  “How so?”

  “Wasn’t fond of my classmates, but I was otherwise at home. Went the full course and everything. Came home after, blah, blah, blah…” Chemical calm was a nice thing.

  “So how old did that make you when you became a vampire?”

  “Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. It was September. I think. Cool enough for ladies to wear shawls at night. I was leaving another dreadful party. She freed me, my salvation… I’ll always thank her for that.”

  I finished the bottle and gave it an odd look, wondering how it was empty already, then shrugged and got up to fetch another. Grabbed a glass, too, this time.

  “You needed saving back then?”

  “In a matter of speakin’.” I pulled the chair out next to her and sat, pouring a full glass from the new bottle of JD. No sense getting drunk on the expensive stuff. “Misunderstood, I was, except by me family. My sire saw to the heart of me, what I yearned for. We had over a hundred happy years together, until...” Deep in the recesses of my mind, where my heart still lived, I wished I could make my sire like she’d been again.

  “How did that whole thing happen?”

  I refilled my glass and changed the subject. “Tallis doesn’t love, you know. Feels it’s beneath him, a human thing. There’s a kind of affection he has for his clan, but there’s nothin’ soft about it. He came into town crazier than ever. When ‘e sets ‘is mind to a plan…well, it’s twisted and sadistic as hell, but it’s genius, too…and if you ever tell ‘im I said that, I’ll cut out your tongue and make you eat it.”

  Catherine crossed her heart. “I promise. So, she leaves town…and you’re…?”

  Persistent girl.

  “Healing. Couldn’t hunt, or do much of anything for myself that mattered… A vampire will heal from just about anything, short of cutting off our heads, but it still takes time, and blood.”

  “That must have been hard,” she said. “Did you ever see her again?”

  “Briefly.” I nodded, swallowing more whiskey. “It was well and truly…over.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I sniffed. “’S alright. We had longer than most, right?” Spinning a sob story for Catherine made it possible to see how far she’d go to comfort me. How much she’d let her guard down. The real truth wasn’t nearly so dramatic as what I told her.

  Catherine placed her hand on mine. So warm. “That eats you up, huh?”

  I nodded morosely. Abandoned the glass and went straight for the bottle.

  “I don’t know how a woman could forsake such obvious devotion,” she said, shaking her head. “Most any of us would kill to be the center of a guy’s world for centuries.”

  “You’re just sayin’ that,” I mumbled.

  “I’m not! You seem to be the perfect catch for a vampiress wanting to be loved. Have you tried getting out there…since?”

  “Not exactly how it works. There’s no speed-dating night for demons.”

  She rolled her eyes. “But there are clubs, aren’t there? For booze and a hook-up. It’s the 20th Century.”

  “Until a hunter shows up to be the ultimate killjoy.”

  “That’s what happened tonight, isn’t it? Knew there had to be a reason for the bad-ass look.”

  I curled my tongue behind my teeth. “The baddest, baby. You like the way I look?”

  “I-It’s fine…if you’re into that sort of thing.”

  “What kind of ‘thing’ is that?”

  “You know…the whole ‘can’t take home to Mom’ vibe. But bad boys always lead to trouble.”

  “Hm. Trouble can be fun.”

  “Trouble can get you killed.”

  “How can you ever really feel alive if you don’t test your limits? I bet even you have contemplated a walk on the wild side at least once…”

  “For, like, a minute. I’m human. But that’s not my way.”

  “Bet you’ve dreamed about it.”

  “William…”

  “Not one, little, fantasy? ‘S only natural…”

  “Not really. I’m boring like that.”

  “Not even with all Alicia’s sex talk?”

  “Geeze, you’re like a dog with a bone.”

  “Better believe it, baby,” I slurred. “Hey, the whisikey’s all gone…”

  She put her hand on my arm as I made to get up. “Maybe it’s time you called it a night, then.”

  “Please! It takes more than two bottles to get a vampire drunk!” I shuffled to the cabinet to retrieve a bottle.

  “If you say so,” she muttered.

  “Ya wan’ some?”

  “No, no…you go ahead.”

  I nodded. “You’re a good girl, Cat. Always polite. Kitty-cat, pussy-cat, jungle cat… I got books with drawings from all those expeditions… Very old. You ever wanna drive Tallis around the bend, start singin’.”

  “Really?”

  I saluted her. “True as the North Star. Hates music.” That’s how you could tell he was out of his gourd. What kind of wanker hates music?
/>   “Still… I’d rather avoid him altogether.” She dropped her eyes to her cup and swirled the last bit of milk left around the bottom.

  I tucked her hair behind her ear. So soft. “I know. Shows you have a lick o’ sense.”

  “I try not to think about it, or just be brave…but I can’t imagine anything worse then being at his mercy. And I know I don’t know all he’s capable of, despite being told what he did to Celia in the book, but it’s enough… I don’t need to be a vampire for my blood to run cold.”

  “You’ve done well for yourself so far.”

  Catherine shook her head. “If I was really brave, I would have left. Disappeared.”

  “What I don’t know won’t hurt you.”

  She arched her brow, and I nodded. I wouldn’t help, but I wouldn’t stop her, either. It gave me plausible deniability in front of Tallis.

  She smiled, then looked at the clock. “Well, it’s late… You need a hand upstairs?” she asked, standing.

  “’M fine.” I quickly rose and swayed on my feet for effect. “I’ll, uh, make the trip with you, though.”

  “Okay.”

  My suite was on the floor below Catherine’s room. She wrapped her arm around my waist and continued up the stairs.

  “What are you humming?” she asked when we reached my floor and turned down the hallway.

  “Motorhead. Bloody brilliant stuff. Not like the dreck they call modern music.”

  If I were a better man, I would have stopped using her as a crutch once we reached flat ground…but I wasn’t. Not since 1878. I liked having her curves pressed against me, liked having the excuse to turn my head and smell her fruity-scented hair. Feel its silky softness brushing against my hand on her shoulder. It’d been a long time since someone acted like my friend, lending a hand for the sake of helping.

  Catherine stopped in front of the big mahogany doors. “Well, this is your stop.”

  “Right…” I removed an old key from my pocket and inserted it in the lock. Turned to face her as she stepped aside. “Don’t think this lets you get out of your lessons tomorrow.”

  She laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Goodnight, William. I hope you sleep well.”

  I caught her hand when she started to walk away, lifting it to my lips to place a kiss on the back. “Sweet dreams.”

  She blushed.

  I opened my bedroom door and slipped inside.

  Another night alone in my bed.

  Chapter Six

  1878

  My house was too empty, despite the servants, but the party was over.

  Well. At least for me.

  Spring had yet to chase away winter’s nightly chill in London and I pulled my wool overcoat more tightly closed around my frame. Loathe as I was to return home, any establishment open at this time of night was beneath my station and the party had been a terrible bore, so here I was, walking alone again. Always alone, these days.

  “You seem lost.” A woman’s voice.

  “Who’s there?” Turning, I searched the area, and then I found her behind me. “Where is your escort, madam?” She wore a brown silk dress, so the woman certainly belonged somewhere.

  “I could ask you the same, sir.” She giggled.

  “Let me pass. I do not have time for feminine games.”

  “A game? Are we playing?” She stepped closer, under a street lamp, and I saw her face more clearly. Eyes like a doe in a fair countenance. “We must play. You look too sad.”

  What an odd woman. Perhaps she had wandered away from her caretaker. “Madam, if you are lost, I will assist you in finding a constable to escort you safely home. Otherwise, goodnight.” With a nod, I moved to step around her and continue my journey.

  “Please…I can help you.”

  I paused. “What could you possibly do for me?”

  “Oh, so many things…things you’ve never dreamed of. Things you wouldn’t dare to imagine. Isn’t there something you’re searching for?”

  Yes.

  That settled it. The woman was completely mad. I hurried on in case she was dangerous. Why couldn’t people keep their ill relatives off the streets?

  The fog thickened and air grew colder as I neared the townhouse. Hopefully, Jasper remembered to keep the fire stoked in the study tonight. Mother’s hired servants were getting on in years and could be rather forgetful, but I hadn’t the heart to dismiss them. Not yet.

  Reaching the door came with a sense of relief—though I heard or saw no one, there had been a nagging feeling of being followed. Bah…an over-active imagination caused by a dark night and too much brandy. I was stressed and over-tired.

  Once inside and locks turned, the feeling of paranoia changed to the weight of solemnity the house had carried since I became the sole member of the family.

  “Jasper?” I called.

  “Here, sir! Coming, sir.” Hurrying down the hall, he huffed and puffed, sliding a pair of spectacles into his pocket. I handed him my coat and gloves.

  “Since you’ve been reading, I hope that means at least one room in this house is warm?”

  “Yes, sir, of course. I didn’t forget. Wouldn’t want you to catch a chill like—beg pardon, sir, this way. May I get you something, sir, or will you be turning in for the night?”

  “I won’t require you for the rest of the evening, Jasper.”

  He bowed. “Very good, sir. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Isn’t there something you’re searching for?

  The woman’s voice—admittedly lovely—played in my head as I headed into my study and shut the door. Oh, I longed for many things…impossible things like turning back time to before Mother and Annabelle—

  Enough.

  Shutting the lid on that mental Pandora’s Box, I stoked the fire, then poured a drink. A new stack of envelopes sat on the desk. Attending to business provided minimal distraction, however, even if necessary.

  A knock at the door, two quiet taps. “Enter,” I said.

  “I brought your tea, sir.” Esther the cook.

  “Chamomile?”

  “As always. It will help you sleep.”

  Not likely, but the woman had taken to mothering me since my own had left us. “Of course.” The tea was preferable to the valerian root she first tried to foist on me.

  She set the cup and saucer on a table, curtsied, and left. The staff knew by now to leave me alone when doors were closed. It was Father’s private space before mine.

  It was late when I left the room, the only light in the house coming from the lamp in my hand. Upstairs, a bed-warmer was under the linens on the bed, an appreciation since London nights were still chilly as of yet. I went through my routine, settled into bed, and my mind wandered to the woman on the street and that damned question.

  Things you’ve never dreamed of. Things you wouldn’t dare to imagine. Isn’t there something you’re searching for?

  Morning came, another day like the others.

  I spent as much time as possible avoiding the house and its memories, whether that presented in dealing with practical affairs or strolling London’s parks and museums. Though most gentlemen of my station would spend the day at a club, smoking and playing cards had never been habits of mine to enjoy, and thus, I wandered or read. I rarely took luncheon or supper at home these days, returning in the evening only to change my attire for a party or night at the theatre.

  Tonight’s event was a concert. Music was one of the rare things that brought me peace.

  She was there when it was over. The woman from last night stood outside, dressed in dark blue this time. She nodded to me. Politeness required I tip my hat and do the same.

  The crowd swallowed her up and she was gone.

  I preferred to walk when I could, and did so tonight, turning for home. A subtle mist began to fall. Blast. I’d forgotten an umbrella. To seek shelter or hurry home? The weather made the decision for me when the mist changed to a full shower. Quickly, I found an alcove to wait it out in. />
  A black carriage stopped. “May I offer you conveyance?” It was her in the window.

  “The storm will pass,” I said.

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I cannot leave you standing there all night.”

  “Miss—”

  “Cassandra.”

  “Miss, it is improper for the two of us to ride together. One must consider your reputation. I thank you kindly for the offer, but the rain will pass. I will wait.”

  “And catch your death of cold?”

  A muscle ticked involuntarily in my jaw. Mother had always fussed about being properly warm. Then she contracted pneumonia. Did I care if I met the same fate?

  The carriage door opened. I hopped inside.

  “Delightful,” the woman said. “Where shall we take you?”

  I called out my street to the driver and the horses fell in step again.

  “You have my name, sir, but I do not have yours,” the woman said. She was English, but I couldn’t place the location of her accent.

  “William.” I sat across from her, as far away as possible to maintain propriety. Though it was doubtful we’d be seen in the storm, appearances had to be maintained.

  “Oh, of course. I am glad to meet properly, William. You and I should be great friends.” Such an overly forward creature. “Do you like to travel?”

  “I get seasick.”

  “How unfortunate, though I do know a remedy. But there are more ways to travel than by boat, are there not?”

  “Of course. Rail, or by horse, or by foot.”

  “By camel or elephant, too.”

  “Yes.” Would she prattle on the whole journey? Perhaps she was the type that hated silence. I could listen to the raindrops all night. This was no gale. Merely a healthy spring shower accompanied by the clop-clop of the horses’ hooves on the street.

  She lapsed into silence and for a blessed moment, I thought she had finally taken the hint that I wasn’t in a mood to chat. Then she said:

  “Would you die for your sister?”

  Chapter Seven

  “What do you know of my sister?” I had launched across the cab, my hands gripping her upper arms.

  “Would you? Would you do anything to get her back?”