Page 43 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Curator
They were in an opium den.
“I didn’t know vampires could become addicted.” She lowered her voice. “They look terrible.”
“It’s not the drug.” He sniffed. “Everyone here has taken a vow not to consume human blood. It is that choice that weakens them, not the opium.”
“Why would they do that?” After seeing how Jonathan had reacted to drinking her blood, she could not imagine any vampire willingly giving it up.
“We’re not all the same,” he said dryly.
Her cheeks burned. He was right. Jonathan was nothing like the woman who had shattered her family. Her ancestors had hunted thousands of vampires. She’d justified those deaths by assuming each kill had saved dozens of humans. But what if some of those vampires had been innocent?
“Quiet now,” he said as they approached a black-robed figure sitting at a table. Felicity couldn’t make out their features from beneath the billowing fabric. It was as if the robe was filled not with a person, but with complete darkness.
“What do you seek?” the figure asked. Its voice seemed to come from everywhere.
Jonathan removed a weighty bag from his pocket. “Information.”
The figure—she assumed the proprietor of the den—crossed its arms. Jonathan removed a gold coin from his bag and slid it across the table. The figure shook its head.
As what Felicity assumed was a negotiation continued, she looked around. Most of the creatures surrounding her were so still, she would have assumed them dead if not for the occasional movement of a wrist to bring a pipe to cracked lips. If she told her family about this place, they would burn it down, killing everyone inside.
It wasn’t right. The vampires around her didn’t take humans as victims. They didn’t deserve to die.
A young man a few feet away dropped his pipe. He let out a soft cry and grasped his skeletal hand impotently on the floor. Compelled by an impulse she didn’t fully understand, she gently nudged the object toward him with her boot. She half-expected the thing to grasp her ankle with its thin fingers, but it didn’t. It found what it had dropped and let out a soft exhale.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She leaned closer. “Could you… look at something for me?”
He moved his head slowly up and down. She glanced behind her to find Jonathan watching and the robed figure sweeping coins off the table. Taking that as a sign that she could proceed with her questioning of the occupants, she withdrew the dagger and presented it for the emaciated creature on the floor to inspect. “Have you seen this before?”
He touched the blade with ragged fingernails, then shook his head.
“Try someone else,” Jonathan said.
She straightened and approached the first of the many bunks along the walls. As each vampire gave a similar response, her spirit dampened. She’d been so optimistic, she’d thought forcertain tonight would be the night she’d find her parents’ killer, especially after Jonathan had insisted this was the only den that served the opium that matched the type of tar he’d smelled.
She’d nearly given up hope entirely when she reached a bed occupied by a woman with thinning, gray hair and enormous blue eyes. Her pale skin was mottled with bruises, but her bones didn’t protrude as prominently as the others.
Felicity presented the dagger, then inhaled sharply when the woman’s eyes widened.
“Do you know it?” Felicity asked. “Where have you seen it before?”
The woman curled into a ball and covered herself with a threadbare blanket.
Felicity touched her shoulder. “Please. It’s important.”
The blanket-covered bundle scooted closer to the wall.
“I’m sorry,” Jonathan said.
Felicity leaned back on her heels. No, this couldn’t be another dead end. The damned creatures were toying with her. She crawled onto the bed, tore the blanket away, and pinned the woman to the thin mattress by the shoulders. “You know something. Tell me!”
Jonathan grabbed her upper arm. “Enough.”
So, he’d taken their side. She should have expected as much. The only reason he was helping her was that she’d bound him into her service.
“Release me,” she said. When his grip relaxed, she grabbed a stake from inside her cloak and lifted it above her head, ready to plunge it into the chest of the pathetic creature beneath her. The vampire exhaled softly and tilted its head to the side. It did not squirm beneath her, bear its teeth, or resist in any other way.
