Perfect Shadows - By Siobhan Burke Page 0,36

and Geoffrey’s soft command: “Let him go.” I could not face my room, and I wandered around the hall for a time, but the reminders of my newfound disability were everywhere. I found a heavy cloak near a small side door and slung it over my shoulders before stepping out into the moonless night.

The air was cold and crisp, sliding like silk over the skin of my face, and filled with scents that, being city-bred, I had never noticed before. There were living things that way, wild things in the forest, and over there the stable. If I listened I could hear the occasional stamp and snort of a restless horse.

I was aware of an owl’s silent flight overhead, and heard the tiny shriek of the small creature it caught just short of the wood. My eyesight, or what was left of it, seemed curiously enhanced as well, for though the only light was from the starlight on the snow, I could see perfectly well. After a moment or two I made my way into the woods, following a narrow path that eventually led me to a small clearing, a clearing filled with shadowy shapes that, scenting me, bounded towards me.

Wolves! I felt a moment’s panic even as I realized what these must be. I stood my ground, and soon they were milling all around me, thrusting cold noses into my palms, giving me a lick now and then as I knelt in the snow to shyly pet them. One of the smaller ones began to grow misty, and soon transformed herself into the serving wench who had saved me from a fall earlier. Naked, her long dark hair spilling like ink in the snow-light, she stood still for a full minute while I stared at her, then stepped to my side.

“It is very cold, my lord,” she said in a low husky voice, and slipped under my cloak with me. I held her shivering against me for a time, then realized simultaneously that the other wolves had vanished, and that the girl was barefoot. I dropped the cloak from my shoulders, wrapped it about her and caught her up into my arms in one smooth motion, then turned back to the house, carrying her as effortlessly as if she were a child. As we neared the Hall, she kissed me, and I felt my desires rising and flowing together. I wanted her; I wanted to take her as Rózsa had so often taken me, to feed both my appetites.

The door to the study was closed, though I could hear the rise and fall of voices within as I carried the girl past, and up the stairs to my room, which Jehan was just leaving. He smiled at me, and my burden, but said nothing, just held the door, and closed it behind us. I saw that a tray with a covered dish, wine, and two glasses had been left on the table. I laid the girl gently on the bed, and sat beside her, feeling rather shy, but she smiled at me and unwound herself from the cloak. Moving across the floor with a fluid grace that made me think of music, she poured the wine and returned to the bed, handing me one of the glasses. I viewed it dubiously, but she laughed low in her throat. “It will not harm you, my lord. You may still enjoy the flavor if not the effects. You may take any liquids, and even solid food, if you must do so to avoid drawing attention to yourself, though you will have to vomit that up later,” she told me, and laughed at my expression.

“I have lived all my life with vampires, my lord. There is little about your kind that I do not know.” She took my untasted glass and set it on the floor near her half-full one. “Kit,” she breathed, “I am Sylvie,” and kissed me, working my doublet loose and unlacing my shirt, but my desire had faded, leaving only hunger. Gently I pushed her questing hands away, and she shrugged, smiling with a sort of wry resignation. “I know,” she said softly, “women will never be your first choice, my lord, but you must feed, and not from Jehan again so soon. He is the only one among us who shares your inclinations, so. . . .” she shrugged again. I pulled her close, and pressed my sharp teeth against her throat, felt them pierce her vein,

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