Bath Camarilla

Valentina has been pacing the salon. She stops and stares moodily out of the window. The street was empty. Well, apart from the pair of policemen who'd passed by a little while ago. But, no customers, no errand boys, no hurrying kine busily bustling about there business. It was intolerable!

In the privacy of her thoughts Valentina admitted to herself that the shop's new daytime opening was helping keep her afloat as far as such tedious things as money were concerned. But money was really the least of her worries. There was the little matter of what had transpired at the BRSLI and of course her beast's continuing insistence to be fed. Only, there wasn't any blasted food around, was there?

Whichever kindred set the railway ablaze was a mindless fool she decided grumpily, then shivered. There were a surplus of mindless fools around these days and those who perceive themselves with nothing left to lose are dangerous indeed...

She flops listlessly down onto the sofa. just then there's a sound of something dropping in the work room and the wordless noise of annoyance Jacob made when he'd been clumsy. She hissed in irritation. Stupid mortal, didn't he know better by now?

"What is the matter?" her voice calls out, sharp with annoyance.

"One moment Miss Audley..."

A few more sounds emanate from the workshop as the young man bustles.

Several moments later, he strides into the sitting-room, scowling at the thumb and fingertips he's rubbing together; presumably he can see an invisible speck of dirt. Plucking his kerchief from a pocket, he looks up in the act of wiping his fingers.

"My apologies, Miss Audley. It was just a box of silk pins. I'm all fingers and thumbs this evening."

Everyone was on edge; she didn't need to hear about their customers' various run-ins with an over-eager police force. Fortunately, the Thimble's coffee mornings were still acting as something of a draw, and bringing with them much-needed custom; but the books were not as healthy as he had anticipated prior to the Paris trip.

Miss Audley, too, appeared to be in lower spirits than usual.

"I've time to finish the pinning later," he offered. "If you'd rather have some company? The latest Monde Elegante is in: I could read you some of the articles, if you'd like."

He was going to suggest some other distracting activity, such as a game of cards; but on balance, he decided against that gambit.

Ugh. Why did he have to be so clumsy and so, so... Unconcerned! She scowled moodily at him, vaguely aware that if it still worked her stomach would be rumbling in an extremely uncouth manner right now.

"Well do try and be less careless darling. The way things are right now we cannot afford more pins nor are we able to go and acquire more even if we were not lacking in funds!"

She stands, irritably twitching her apron back into place before starting to pace the room.

"Of what use is the Monde when we have no customers to exercise it on? We might as well close the shop the way things are going in this city." She frowns at him, circling round him where he stands. It's a large loose circle to start with but on every turn, it tightens just a little as she eyes him ceaselessly.

"Bristol could be an attractive proposition" indeed, her beloved mentor's news was the one bright spot on the horizon right now. "However if we go there you would no doubt lavish all your time and attention on that ridiculous Box creature. Do not think I missed you making eyes at her!" It's a hissed, angry, accusation.

Valentina is angry. She's furious, frightened and famished and Jacob is being far too chipper. Something has to be done about that.

"Miss Audley -"

Jacob turned on the spot to face her.

"While it's true that the Court of Bristol can boast many beauties -" (and at this, the memory of Julia returned, unbidden: never had Swainswick encountered a woman so unabashedly predatory. He hoped that he was not blushing.) "No, please, hear me out. That might be true; but I look only with a professional eye. I imagine how that court would look were it dressed by you. It is impoverished by the comparison."

He decided to risk the truth.

"And I have eyes for only one. Do you not know that?"

Valentina bites down on the urge to scream at him. Stupid, stupid, stupid ghoul! He shouldn't have any choice about that and yet he's still making eyes at other women. Although... A small thought occurs to her and she stares at him, the angry frown slowly being replaced by a predatory smile.

She places a hand on his shoulder, slipping round behind him whilst the pressure from her hand lightly holds him in place. Her hand slips up to his collar, loosening it as she whispers in his ear "If that is so, then you may prove it. I have a task for you, but first..."

She pauses, savouring the moment, his warmth, his nearness. She'd have to be careful, oh so careful, but he could tide her over until tomorrow night at least. She bites quickly and cleanly, wrapping her arms around him from behind in the mockery of a loving embrace as she feeds.

Love can be blind. And thus it was, in the Thimble's sitting room - that was suitably appointed for a fitting-room, also, and therefore provisioned with a sizeable mirror - that Swainswick smiled at his reflection, at the sight of his mistress deftly loosening his collar. The act was shocking in its forwardness - but a pleasant reminder of the intimacy between th-

As his vision blurred, he could only see her: as lovely as an angel, placing her lips gently in a tender kiss.

He felt his knees threaten to buckle.

Mmmm... Feeding is such a sensuous pleasure. Valentina can feel his life filling her and spreading outwards through her limbs in the familiar and yet utterly indescribable rush.

Regretfully she stops, sealing the wound and letting go of Jacob, taking a small amount of amusement in the whimper he makes as she stops. She'd taken so little tonight. It wouldn't sate her long, but it did have the small advantage of leaving him capable but slightly woolly headed. Well, she amended, more woolly headed than usual.

She steps back and folds her arms, arranging her face into a carefully neutral expression as she waits for him to turn and face her. This... This could be a moment to savour. One more step along his doomed path that he'd unwittingly take.

Swainswick gasped at the cessation of sensation, aware that his heart was thundering in his chest. The slow trickle of returning awareness of his extremities was almost an agony.

He turned, unsure as to whether he should sweep her into his arms. Instead, he muttered, "Miss Audley!" and leaned toward her for a kiss.

Such an attempt was, he later reflected, an act inspired by a pervasive cliche; the memory of it burned acutely embarrassing in him, the source of no little regret. (The thoughtful reader must surely join us in lamenting the deplorable effect upon our culture that ready access to popular literature engenders.)

She quirks an eyebrow at him, stepping slightly back. "I am well aware of your talents in that area darling. But I thought you wished to prove your devotion to me? Mere prowess in the art of seduction hardly proves faithfulness."

She waits to see what he'll do next, idly running over the workroom equipment. None of it could be spared. Oh well, something from the kitchen will have to suffice.

"How would you have me prove it?" came the ardent question. "You, who have entrusted me with your greatest secret? You know I would die before I gave it up. I tell you, I harbour no intent toward Miss Box or her flibbertigibbet friends.

"What else can I do? Name it; I shall prove equal to the task or lay down my life in its attempt!"

The promise was rather hotly spoken, for the young man's passions were inflamed.