An Evening Visit (Epilogue)

[Valentina Audley]

Having waved the visitors off Valentina carefully locks and bolts the shops front door. It seems unlikely at this point that there will be any other visitors tonight. Seeing Jacob hoovering near by Valentina is struck anew by his physique and currently by his pulse... Perhaps there it is time for another lesson in ghouldom...

She allows herself to droop wearily and heads into the sitting room to drape herself wanly on the sofa.

"Gracious darling, I feel quite worn out. Wasn't Miss Ash charming?"

[Jacob Swainswick]

Swainswick took the chair, sitting primly on the edge of the seat. He tapped his finger thoughtfully on the armrest.

"Delightful, Miss Audley. Her skin suits the colour of the dress remarkably: the contrast being complementary, I would say. Although I wonder if the poor thing is quite well: did you note the pallor of her lips?" His own face warmed slightly as he spoke, his cheeks offering their own complement to her recalled etiolation.

"I, ah, was clearly mistaken in my original assumption," he added, with a rueful raise of his eyebrows. "When Mr. Alberts cut himself - well, that was not quite the paroxysm that I feared might be prompted."

Again, the flush of colour at his own boldness in speaking thus. Nonetheless, the young man continued:

"That is to say, I have no experience with any other of your particular situation." He paused, selecting his words carefully. "One has only the impressions of popular culture to draw on. Those seem so - so melodramatic. I swear, Miss Audley, it was not you that I feared might fall on poor Mr. Alberts." A smile, introspective. "Did I not know it, I would never guess your own, ah, status. That's not to say that you're not -"

Remarkable. Astonishing. Magnetic.

Swainswick said none of those things.

"I mean to say, you're every inch the image of the Modern Woman. Which some might find shocking in and of itself," he added, lightly - for under the circumstances, he felt that such an intimate tone might be warranted - or at least, forgiven, "but I would never have hit upon the truth, had you not taken me into your confidence."

His brow furrowed slightly. "Miss Audley, are you quite alright yourself?"

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina leans back, resting her head on the sofa.

"I am somewhat tired darling, socialising with those who, ah, don't know about my situation can be exhausting."

She pauses for a moment, eyes closed and continues "the modern accounts of my kind are somewhat sensational are they not? But they can be an amusing read... What imaginations some authors have!" She opens her eyes again and smiles wanly at Jacob.


"As for Miss Ash's pallor...I do rather think she might be, goodness, how to put this... Um, I think she might be known to another of my kind, in a sustaining sort of way..." Valentina takes care to sound slightly unsure and anxious. Can she persuade the young man to ask the all important question?

[Jacob Swainswick]

My G-d! - is she, then - doomed?

Despite a Herculean control over his features, the young man's alarm was quite palpable; his body taut, alert.

"Miss Audley! Are you certain? But how -" he stopped. "But there were no - no marks -"

Jacob touched his fingers lightly to the side of his throat. During the act of returning the young lady to the sofa, he had obtained a scandalously close familiarity with her delicate neck; her wrists, too, had shewn no indication of nocturnal predation. If not her neck, her wrists, then...

He did not know what to think; and said as much, horrified. His own patron's condition, whilst startling, had until now remained somewhat abstracted where certain particulars were concerned; the question had perplexed him, as it must any inquisitive mind, but until that instant he had never permitted that thought to reach its inevitable conclusion.

"Miss Audley." His voice was barely a whisper; the gaslight glittering in his eyes as he blinked back the emotion. Even yet, he did not look away. His breast could barely contain the horror he felt - not of, but for the woman who sat, bravely bearing her awful secret, alone - alone, but for his companionship. His concern for the young girl was, in that moment, subsumed beneath a greater concern: for one who must have endured this terrible knowledge untold times over.

He had to know. Had to ask, that she might share her terrible burden. "Will she die?"

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina sits up straighter and bursts into merry peals of laughter.

"My dear boy! She's not going to fade away if that's what you mean." She smiles gently at him.

"As for marks, we should hardly be such a secret if we left marks and murdered people every time we needed sustenance now would we? No, no, it's nothing like so violent." She sniffs, disapprovingly. "For those of us who are civilized anyway.."

She leans back again, settling herself more comfortably. "I suppose that is much like mortal society though, is it not? The majority of folk striving diligently and the odd few who cause so much upset and worry? No, Miss Ash will be quite fine in a few days I should imagine."

[Jacob Swainswick]

"No marks? I - I don't follow you. You mean, not at her throat? But surely, when she is bathing -"

He realised too late the terrible turn his conversation had taken, eyes widening at the faux pas.

"By which I mean to say, that were I to be - you know - there would surely be some telltale trace? I would be able to see it?"

His brow furrowed - in concentration, although he was also somewhat abashed by Miss Audley's sudden amused smile.

"Miss Audley: these questions are forward, I know. But permit me to ask them, I pray. To better understand, I mean."

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina waves a tired hand in graceful acknowledgement. "You may ask darling. It shows intelligence to try and gain greater understanding of that which you are unfamiliar with." She laces her voice with sweetness and approval. Gently does it. Why make them cower when you can lead them gently by the hand? She notes the blush when he stumbles on the word 'bathing' and makes a mental note to do something about that at a later date.

"You have already seen the telltale traces in Miss Ash, although she may be naturally delicate, to have been so pale. Without knowing who or why I could not say if that was usual for her. As for the marks..."

She rubs her head, as though to ease a headache. "We heal them over, at the end of the process. It would be unkind to leave people in pain now, would it not darling?"

[Jacob Swainswick]

"Unkind... yes, I suppose so."

Jacob stopped to think, touching the tip of his tongue to his canine as he did. He sought a way to ask, doesn't it taste awful? but couldn't see a delicate way to broach that question.

"Does it hurt? Is it true that you use a kind of Mesmerism?"

There was also the matter of how one went about selecting a - a source; but since his instinctive choice of word was 'victim,' which notion horrified him, he thought that best left unasked.

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina tilts her head, consideringly.

"It is the briefest moment of pain, but after that it is not painful at all." She smiles at him. "I have done worse to myself with an ill placed pin, I assure you darling."

She gives him a serious, slightly unsure look. "It is not my wish to cause injury to others and yet..." She shrugs, helplessly. "I do not wish to die... Therefore, I must gain sustenance somehow."

Another lie cribbed neatly from dear departed Andrew. How neatly he'd led her along this path and yet she could not help but admire it, for the sheer simplicity of it showed such artistry. And look now, how easy it was to adapt it for her own ends. Jacob was following as willingly as she had. The simple ways really were the best then.

[Jacob Swainswick]

"Die?!"

The young man leapt to his feet.

"Do not say 'die', Miss Audley!"

He dropped to one knee, taking her hands in his, and speaking as earnestly as he might.

"I say this to you as a friend, Miss Audley; if you value our friendship, you must not speak of such a thing! For such goodness to pass from the world - it would be a tragedy! We will find a way, I promise you!"

He thought of her careful concern; how gently she had tended to that poor unconscious girl. And to him, also - had she not been a benefactor when he was in his hour of need? What her condition forced upon her - one so virtuous - he could barely fathom; that she could retain such wholeness of character in the face of that adversity filled him with hope. He squeezed her fingers between his, encouragingly.