“Fine. Good.” Without another word to me, Warton turned and strode away, already pulling off the sunglasses.
Milburn looked after him fondly, shaking his head. “Ah, our Warton. What he lacks in social skills he makes up for in eloquence.”
Surprised, I choked on a laugh. I wondered if Warton, with his vampire hearing, had overheard the comment. Maybe there was too much background noise. Or maybe Warton just didn’t care.
Milburn turned to me, a smile softening the line of his hollow cheekbones. His hands were in his pants pockets, and even though the suit was identical to Warton’s, on Milburn it looked debonair. Must have been the tailoring. “Well, Miss Luther, shall we promenade?”
He held out his elbow gallantly, but I shook my head. “I’m happy for a guide, but I walk by myself, thanks.”
The vampire didn’t miss a beat. “Of course. Let’s take a stroll.”
We started down the road to the left, in the general direction of the Bell Tower building. Milburn had long, thin, spiderlike limbs like Jack Skellington in Charlie’s favorite movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas. I had to hurry to keep up as I skirted the groups of chatting vampires.
The Horseman bent his head to speak quietly in my ear. “They just love the chance to put those on,” he murmured. I followed his gaze to a cluster of men in bedraggled gray outfits. Now that I was looking for it, I saw more men in the same clothes walking along the brick path. It suddenly clicked that they were wearing Confederate war uniforms.
“Many are authentic, of course,” Milburn confided. “But that man there died in 1932.” He nodded toward one of the gray-uniformed men, whose handlebar mustache was quivering as he chuckled at someone’s joke. “And I recognize him.” Milburn discreetly tilted his head at a man on the other side of the road. This one appeared older, in his late fifties, with a long white beard and a gray uniform in better shape than most. “He joined up three months before the war ended, and lived the rest of his life off his reputation as a fierce warrior.” Milburn gave a little snort and eyed me for a reaction. I just kept walking. I didn’t have the energy to worry about soldier wannabes, past or present.
It struck me that both Milburn and Warton had been soldiers, yet they were in suits tonight instead of uniforms. I wondered if that was some kind of statement. Milburn gave me a cocky grin like he expected me to ask, so I deliberately kept quiet.
We passed an ornate Gothic mausoleum close to the path lights, and I saw that a vampire had set up a lawn chair out front. He seemed almost . . . proprietary. Like he was holding court.
“Is that . . .” I wasn’t sure how to finish. The question seemed tacky.
“His actual grave? Yes.” Milburn shrugged. “They’re gorgeous little buildings, most of them. Vampires are often the family member who pays to have them built. Seems only fair that they should get to show them off now.”
I just shook my head. It really was like a little city. Which made Beau . . . what? The mayor?
Nobody stopped us, and I soon realized that they were actively getting out of our way. I couldn’t tell if it was because Milburn was part of Beau’s inner circle or because of me, but since I wasn’t getting any dirty looks—yet—I was guessing the former.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” Milburn said, glancing down at me. “I expected a thousand questions.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” I said, watching as a woman in an enormous hoopskirt effortlessly navigated between several chatting vampires. I was impressed. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t make it five feet without tripping myself in a dress like that.
“Not what you expected?” Milburn asked.
“I don’t know what I expected.”
The Bell Tower building had actual outdoor lights, and as we neared the entrance, I could practically see the news about me traveling through the crowd of vampires. More and more fearful or angry looks were sent my way, and I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. I could take on one, maybe two vampires in a fight, but there were hundreds of them strolling through the cemetery. If even a handful decided to approach me at once . . .
Milburn must have noticed the looks—or maybe he just caught the scent of my fear—because he said, “Ah, I see