Page 23 of Mortdale

I glanced at his plate and Logan's with the untouched eggs and toast. “Why did you put food in front of you?”

“He staged it up for you. We hear people don’t like eating alone. He does it for Piper sometimes when she won’t eat. That’s because she also likes to pick stuff from our plates. Her eyes have a bigger appetite than her stomach. Greedy little thing.”

“What’s a Piper?”

“Oh, you’ll meet her. She’s kind of hard to miss.”

Chapter 5

Willow

Mortdale resembled nothing of the town I’d grown up in. While Meridian streets were narrowed and cobbled, here they were wide enough to fit three carriages and laid with smooth tiles that fit one another like a massive puzzle. The charm of Meridian lay in the fact that there wasn’t any street lighting besides the sun and the moon, and the light cast by shops and houses, and that the breeze channelling between the rows of houses had a slight taste of salt. I had yet to figure out what gave Mortdale its stale charm of grey and black; if it was the thick black poles of light fixtures lining both sides of the streets, or the almost identically constructed buildings covered in those steep dark roofs, or if it was the slight scent of burnt oil penetrating air and nearly making me choke, or if it was the deafening noises coming out of everything that moved that wasn’t letting me process any amount of thought.

“Bland, isn’t it?” an elderly lady said, coming to walk beside me. “I know that look on your face. It is the look of an outsider. I had that look once.”

“Everything looks like it is in mourning.” The skies rumbled, but there was no rain and they let in no sun. The houses were all veiled in a black coat of paint; even the pedestrians were all draped in moody laces and strung upright by thick corsets and coarse suits, holding up umbrellas that were neither suited for rain or sun.

Liam shot me a look over his shoulder. “Did you say something?”

I pointed a finger at the woman. “I was talking to her.”

After looking about everywhere, Liam asked, “Who?”

“Gerda,” she shouted at him, but he still looked oblivious.

“Never mind,” I said, giving him a saccharine grin, and murmuring to the woman, “You look impeccable for a ghost.”

She dusted her skirts. “Thank you. I drank poison for this exact reason.”

“Ah, how very elegant of you.”

Pointing her head at Liam, she leaned in to ask, “You’re with the tall leech?”

Trying not to laugh, I nodded. “I’m married to his lord,” I said, showing her my ring.

“Gorblimy! The pact has picked its next victim,” the woman mumbled to herself, shaking her head. “It’s like marrying a witch to a burning stake. Less fire, but burning nonetheless.”

“It hasn’t been so bad.”

“How long have you been married for?”

Hopping along to catch up with Liam’s tall stride, I said, “A day and something.”

Gerda only sighed. “You poor child.”

“How come you lived in Mortdale? Being a human in this town sounds like a nightmare.”

“I was an apothecary. Even unnatural creatures need remedies for their illnesses and injuries.”

“Illnesses?” I asked, trying not to seem too eager. Peeking a glance at Liam, I leaned closer and whispered, “What on Lady Death can make a vampire ill?”

Regrettably, the only proper opportunity I’d had to study a vampire cadaver had been by odd chance. A struggle, as I’d come to find out, as their corpses didn’t go through autolysis, bloating, active decay, or any other advanced stage of decay. They petrified after death—they sort of permineralised and then just…hardened? Well, at least until the last stage which was as I’d come to find out to be disintegration into fine dust particles. To say I’d been shocked was an understatement. They had never been very forthcoming about their nature. Being secluded and closed off from other species had helped maintain their anonymity. They had their own sciences and their own doctors, their anatomy well hidden behind human structure to disguise their true biology.

“Oh dear, vampires have been cutting down on blood feeding for decades now here in Mortdale. Taking less and less, and attempting to get accustomed to drinking animal blood, too. Weaning off human blood comes with repercussions to their health just as denying basic nutrients to humans with their diets. It makes them more prone to illnesses and body weakness.”

“But why? Why not just feed?”

“Blood feeding is a business. Humans make profit by offering themselves as food. Whoever cannot afford them simply has no choice. Taking by force is punishable, but there are those who try. You can imagine they do not have very happy endings when they are caught. To the crown, they are a liability, no better than rabid dogs, so the king's guard has no mercy for them. His new enforcer has been perhaps the cruellest out of them all when it comes to dishing out punishment. They’re even blaming this entire Madness on him. They believe his strict denial in allowing good old human hunting has caused a hunger rage.”