“How long have you been in Crollust, Augustine?” Penelope asked.
“Several weeks. I must say I find the town charming, and the view unbeatable. Something about the sea has a way of calming the beleaguered soul, don’t you agree?”
I sighed in relief. If he’d been here for weeks, there was a chance he hadn’t heard about the recent commotion in the capital.
“You travel often then?” Trevor asked. Augustine steepled his fingers, studying Trevor like a bug in a microscope, before finally responding.
“I have a restless spirit,” he said simply.
“What are you doing here?” Camina asked bluntly, finally finding her tongue. Jazmine kicked her under the table.
“Hunting,” he grinned. “And may I ask, without causing offense, the same of you? You seem to have assembled somewhat of a motley crew, for an elite.”
Penelope’s father stiffened, and her mother’s head swiveled up to stare at her aghast. Augustine sniffed the air, wafting the scents towards him like a perfume.
“If I’m not mistaken, I detect the iron forges of Iklebot, as well as the subtle spice of the sands of Denvato, and yet, there is something else on my palate that intrigues me even more. Something so common, it’s on the tip of my tongue, and yet so rare I must confess myself stumped.”
Trevor stiffened beside me. He was smelling us.
“That’s some nose,” Jazmine said, taking a deep sip of wine.
“I’m somewhat of a gastronomist,” he said. “Sip deeply, or do not sip at all.”
“Funny, my mom always told me not to play with my food.”
I took a sip of wine to calm my parched throat, trying to keep my hand from shaking.
Something about this situation was all wrong.
“We’re traders,” I said. “Under special license and protection by King Richard,” I added quickly. “We help procure certain exclusive items for elite clients who aren’t as daring as yourself. However, we came across Penelope when she was being chased by slagpaw, her coach and traveling escorts had all been killed. We helped each other.”
“Ah so, adventures like myself!” He said, with a light laugh. “How fortunate that you found each other, though I’m a little surprised to hear an elite needed or accepted the help of some human traders. Against the slagpaw no less? You must be fearsome warriors.”
“I was injured,” Penelope said. “And without sustenance.”
“Quite right, I understand perfectly. Lost in the wasteland, after using so much energy defending yourself, you’d have been weak and defenseless. When along comes this veritable gift basket, a bouquet of exotic flavors. They offered you blood, and in return you brought them to dinner to meet your family. It makes perfect sense.”
He grinned, and I could tell he didn’t believe our story for a moment. The question was, what was he going to do about it? I studied the table, deciding that the long boning knife near the ham would make the most suitable weapon.
“How is Tobias?” Penelope’s mother interrupted, changing the subject. I was glad to distract from the interrogation.
“Fine,” Penelope lied. “He would have of course come with me, but he was worried after some recent events in the citadel—he promised he’d come next time.”
“You mean in another three years?” she sniffed. “If I’m still around to visit.”
“Don’t talk like that, Mother, you know the road is treacherous.”
“If he’d have been with you, you wouldn’t have been in any danger.”
“That’s why... that’s why he turned me,” she confessed.
Her mother took in a sharp breath, holding her palm to her heart.
“It’s true then,” her father said with a slight smile. “You’ve been turned. You’re immortal. Like them. I thought I noticed the signs, but I didn’t want to pry.” His shoulders slumped and he seemed to age years in a moment.
“It was a condition of my visit,” Penelope added. “So I would be able to protect myself. Although to be fair, slagpaw seem attracted to elite blood far more than human. He may have miscalculated.”
“Well, you’re safe here, now, and that’s all that matters.”
“A noble reward, you must have pleased him greatly,” Augustine said. “We should celebrate! Josephine,” he called, his eyes never leaving Penelope’s face, “I’m ready for a drink.”
Josephine’s face paled, but she took wooden steps towards him and sat on his lap, before lifting her hair and exposing her neck. From the marks on her skin, this was somewhat of a nightly ritual.
Penelope snapped up immediately, knocking her glass to the floor.
“Don’t touch her!” she growled.
“Now now,” Augustine smiled. “Your father has been most generous during