nails, as though he were remembering holding something. He tightened his hand into a fist and walked down the hall toward the dining room that also served as the war room. “Come.”
Walter followed silently, curious as to what had overcome his Lord. Curious and concerned. But he knew to stay silent and keep his worries unvoiced. He would be told all soon enough. He took his position standing by the table as Dracula sat in his chair, the movement smooth and graceful despite his height and stature. Such things were to be expected from a creature such as he.
It left him feeling like the whelpling that he was, despite his own centuries of age. Walter was nothing to scoff at, since he served as the right hand to the King of Vampires. But next to the one who had sired him, he often felt like little more than a mortal toddler. A brash, clumsy, noisy thing.
Dracula steepled his hands in front of his face and gazed thoughtfully at the table. Walter suspected he was both seeing the notes and maps left upon its lacquered surface and yet taking in none of it all at once. His voice, a low rumble, carried easily. “What have you discovered about Miss Parker?”
“She purports to be a spiritualist—an empath. She claims to be able to divine great secrets from objects and to see all the hidden truths within a human soul. If the hunters have gone to her seeking assistance, I think we shall have little trouble in dispatching them. She is a charlatan, nothing more, and if they can be gulled into—”
“She is no fraud.” Vlad chuckled darkly, a sadistic and amused smile spreading across his features. “No, my dear friend. She is far more interesting than that.”
Walter furrowed his brow. What had happened in the hallway was connected to Miss Parker; he was now sure of it. But how, he hadn’t the foggiest idea. “What would you have me do?”
“I would meet her in person.” He paused, shutting his eyes. “Find some aristocrat in this city who fancies becoming as we are. Send Zadok to seduce him and convince him to host a gala. We shall ensure our dear hunters have reason to attend by creating the suspicion that we may also be present. If we are lucky…they shall invite her to join. We may be able to destroy them and collect her in one night.”
“Collect her?” Walter carefully kept the dread out of his tone. Whenever his Master found himself in the mood to play with mortals, it never ended well. For anyone. He wanted this business with Boston to be concluded and finished as quickly and cleanly as possible, especially after the debacle they had just suffered in London. Walter had hoped he might be spared his Master’s fascination with baubles and toys a few more years than he clearly was to be allotted. Not again. Please, not again.
It would be enough that the whole of the American army would be on their doorstep in a few months’ time. They did not need to feed danger within their walls.
Let this be a passing fancy. Think wisely, Master. For once, I beg you, do not be entranced by the promise of—
“I have reason to suspect she may be…unique, Walter. Truly unique. And I wish to see for myself what it is that I have found. Opportunities such as these come along so rarely, after all.”
Walter felt his hopes crumble, and he let out a low breath. “As you wish.”
“You do not approve.”
“No, my Lord. We will have a war on our hands, and we cannot have you distracted by a mortal…bauble.”
“That is a fair criticism.” Vlad leaned back in his chair and smiled thinly. “But wars are so very common in the end. This shall not be my first, nor shall it be my last.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Your concerns are likely of no import. What I witnessed shall prove to be a fluke, she shall be utterly uninteresting, and you shall have my full attention dedicated upon the battlefront as you so wish.”
“I do not wish for a war, Master, I have made that quite clear.” Walter shook his head. “But I serve you. Ergo, I follow you where you lead. I am honored enough that you let me speak my mind.”
“True loyalty is more valuable than gold, my dear friend. For even that immortal metal will tarnish before a heart like yours might wander.” He sighed, crimson