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She smiles widely. “You want the honeymoon suite? Will your husband be joining you?”
“I’m not married. I’m more interested in the history of the home. The honeymoon suite is a bonus.”
She works her way toward the door. “Francis Hawthorne,” she says, holding her hand toward me.
My heart, or what’s left of it, skips a beat at her name. “Elsie Abernathy. What time should I check in tomorrow?”
She sighs before answering. “Well, checkout is at eleven. I’m sure it’ll take me a few hours to get the room back in shape. How does three o’clock sound?”
“It sounds perfect. Thank you.”
“How long will you be staying?” she asks.
Turning back toward the heavy front door, I run my hand over the carved woodwork. “I’m not sure.”
“The room is two hundred dollars a night during this time of year. I’m sorry to charge that much for a single young woman like yourself.”
“It’s not a problem,” I interrupt. “I understand.” I turn my attention back to the woodwork. “This is beautiful. Is it original to the house?”
“Aye, it is. My grandfather several generations back made his fortune on the sea. He used that money to build this house. It’s been in our family for nearly three hundred years. Renting out the rooms is the only way I can afford the upkeep on it now.”
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Thank you.” She turns, heading through the heavy door. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be here at three o’clock.” I turn, leaving the woman on her doorstep, and move toward the busy street.
In the time I’ve been a vampire, I’ve never forgotten the man who won my heart all those years ago. The man who I barely knew yet was willing to risk his life to save me.
Sadness fills me. It always does when his memory comes to mind. It’s the main reason I’ve waited this long to discover his legacy. Over the years, I’ve searched randomly, never finding any substantial information. For the most part, any record of Captain Hawthorne Rex stopped not long after Kragen took me.
It doesn’t take long to pack the meager belongings I traveled here with. I don’t bring much with me when I travel. It makes it easier to leave quickly should the need arise.
Three o’clock comes much too slowly as I patiently wait on the bottom floor piazza. I watch as unsuspecting tourists pass the rental home, exploring the rich history of the city. The majority of them have no idea of the creatures that lurk in the darkness. Creatures like me. I could kill hundreds of them within seconds. A wet tear streams down my cheek at the thoughts filling my mind. Dark thoughts. Evil thoughts.
You’re not that woman anymore, I remind myself.You did what you had to do to survive.The clock tower, several blocks away, chimes on the hour, letting me know it is exactly three. The time Ms. Hawthorne said the room would be ready. I stand, take a deep breath, and head toward the home.
I focus on moving at the same speed as thehumans surrounding me and blending in with the crowd. Five minutes later, I knock on the heavy wooden door.
The older woman opens the door, wearing a wide smile. “You did come back. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Of course, I did. I can’t wait to study the history of your home.”
She steps away from the door, giving me room to enter. “I don’t know how much history I can share that’s not in the books, but I’ll give it a try. I don’t get much company other than guests. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to.” She walks toward a small desk in the foyer. “Let’s get you checked in.”
I follow her, setting my small bag on the ground at my feet. Inside, the home is just what I imagined it to be. Pictures of ships, new and old, line the navy blue walls of the deep foyer. “This is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, following my line of sight. “Most of the pictures are ships that members of my family have sailed throughout the years.”
My eyes are drawn to a familiar-looking vessel. Instead of a photograph, it’s a sketch of the ship that Thorne commanded—the ship where I was taken.
“What about this one?” I point to the picture.
“Hmm?” she sets down the paper she was holding and moves to my side. “Oh, that is the ship that started it all. It belonged to the man who built this house. Captain Rex.”
I found him. I focus on keeping the energy buzzingthrough my body still. “Captain Rex? What happened to him?”
“That’s a good question,” she answers. “Records show he made several trips between here and Scotland when he was very young. He married a young woman from Charles Town, my great-great-great-grandmother, built a small fortune, and had a son. After that, no one knows.”
