Page 12 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Curator
Now that a potential cure was within reach, though, none of that mattered.
But there was no satisfaction in stealing from a museum with such rudimentary security. If he was going to make Felicity suffer, she had tochooseto confide in him. Then his inevitable betrayal would cut that much deeper. She’d already refused him once. Trying again would make her suspicious of his motives.
Unless he convinced her there was a bigger threat.
He slowed his rapid pace. That was it. He would create a problem for the Sloan House. One that would force Felicity to question the museum’s security.
Then he would swoop in and become the solution she needed.
Chapter Five
Felicity awoke toa numbness in her arms, the result of sleeping in a contorted position. She shifted onto her back and clenched her teeth through the tingling in her extremities. When the pain stopped, she rolled onto her side and stared at the clock on her dressing table. The small hand was halfway between nine and ten. She rubbed her eyes with her fists, then looked again, but the timepiece remained the same. That couldn’t have been right. She was always up before sunrise to practice in the basement before her cousins crowded in to listen to Great-Uncle Ezra’s—Oh, no.
She stumbled upright and hastily braided her hair before throwing on a cream wool blouse with mother-of-pearl buttons and a navy silk skirt. These tasks should have been done by a lady’s maid, but she’d managed without for nearly a year, after catching the last young woman who had held the position spying on her. Felicity had never confirmed, but she suspected Great-Uncle Ezra had been responsible. The old man had retained control of the family for so long in part due to his obsessive hoarding of information.
Everyone living under his roof was terrified of him.
Felicity exited her room and rushed to the basement, where eight of her cousins were clustered around the very man she feared. Great-Uncle Ezra towered over his progeny, looking at least fifteen years younger than his actual age of seven-and-sixty. He rubbed his curly, red beard with one hand and held a sheaf of papers with the other. He still wore the deep-gray, double-breasted frock coat he donned for patrols, and a triangular felt hat was tucked beneath his arm.
Behind him, the small table she usually occupied during morning briefings was already set up with her notebook and pen. If she could only edge through the crowd while he had his back turned, he might not notice her tardiness.
“Reports of targets by the docks picking sailors as victims,” he said. “The locals are growing suspicious, which means people are noticing. Double rounds this evening.” He walked over to her desk, placed his hat atop her writing materials, and then cleared his throat. “And a reminder for everyone that this meeting begins promptly at nine o’clock.”
Felicity dropped her gaze to the floor as the mischievous twenty-year-old blond twins, Charles and William, giggled. Of course, Great-Uncle Ezra would not wait for her to begin the meeting. She was only a scribe. She hurried to her desk and gently relocated his hat to the floor.
“Several Mayfair houses have had unusual nighttime activity this week,” Great-Uncle Ezra continued. “Reports suggest a potential haven.”
She straightened. Finding where a group of vampires spent their daylight hours could mean wiping out an entire nest at once. This was excellent news. She picked up her pen and began writing.
Great-Uncle Ezra walked back and forth in front of the crowd. “Before we mount an assault, I will need two scouting parties to determine if the leads we have received are viable.”
She imagined raising her hand and volunteering for the mission. He would slap his palm on her shoulder and say that, of course she was ready after so many years of training and observation, and she should be in the first group of scouts. Hewould tell her how proud he was of her, that it was her time to show her worth to the family.
“…you listening, Felicity?”
She jerked her pen, scattering droplets of ink over the page. The scenario she had imagined had drawn her away from the meeting, and she had missed everything the leader of the Sorrow hunters had said over the past several minutes. He stood in front of her desk with his arms crossed.
“If you cannot pay enough attention, perhaps it would be better if I reassigned you to a more appropriate duty, such as organizing the mending.”
She kept her chin tucked to her chest. Previous instances of being lectured had proven that standing up for herself only resulted in further recrimination. It was entirely unfair, as Great-Uncle Ezra responded to displays of confidence from her male cousins with approval, but when she did the same, she received only rebukes. “I apologize.”
“Do not let it happen again,” he said softly. Then he turned back to the crowd. “Who will join the scouting party?”
Her cousins muttered and shuffled their feet. The silence stretched until the pressure became too much for her to bear, and she tentatively raised her hand. It was foolish, given that he’d just chastised her, but she could not resist. Twice in the past month, he’d reluctantly accepted her as a volunteer when no one else had stepped forward. Both had been much simpler daytime missions, but she had to try.
Great-Uncle Ezra crossed his arms behind his back. “This is a task that will require stealth and cunning.”
Charles and William grinned and nodded toward her. Still, her great-uncle did not notice her raised hand. She cleared her throat but failed to attract his attention.
“Are none of you brave enough?” he asked.
She shoved to her feet. “I am.”
The room fell silent. The leader of the Sorrow hunters turned. The moment she saw his bulging eyes and tightly pressed lips, she knew she’d made a mistake. He didn’t even acknowledge her before returning his attention to the crowd.
Her heart plummeted into her stomach. To be dismissed so easily was worse than if he had laughed.
“As none of you are willing to volunteer, I will choose myself. Benedict and Charles.”
