Page 39 of Mortdale

Grabbing Thomas, I threw him in the air towards the door. “Go!” I whispered.

The door slid open, and then a wave of screaming ensued. “Catch the fucking rat!” Edwin bellowed while Rupert howled in agony.

Please don’t catch the fucking rat.

With my heart racing, I opened the window and slid out into the gardens. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed me, I smoothed the fabric of my skirts and hopped my way back inside from the garden entrance.

I took a peep out to the entry hall, noticing Edwin holding a napkin to Rupert’s face, which was bleeding from the looks of it. Something my fiend was going to pay a price for and add to his cosmic debt. I didn’t know who to feel worse about, Rupert or my poor rat.

Chapter 8

Willow

There were a total of thirteen Mortdale nobles who’d died in the past nine months. The lump majority were lost to the Madness, which seemed to prefer the upper class somehow. I’d never met an infection so particular before, except for so-called tufthunters and adventuresses. Gerda's words were starting to ring a bit true. Maybe this Madness was truly the work of Morngate? Though it didn’t infect outside of the vampiric kind, I’d worked out the odds to be a bit suspicious. Nine of the thirteen nobles who’d died were wed to a witch; a witch who’d died prior to them dying. Which brought me to another semi-awful conclusion. What if this Madness was started by a witch instead? Motive was not lacking from either part, but Gerda was pretty positive she’d heard that the Madness left no magical trace for a vampiric nose to detect. Which meant, no magic was used in its creation. Human sciences weren’t too unadvanced, however, I believed they lacked the creativity to orchestrate something like this. So, had nature turned against them? Mainly the nobles?

Christof tailed me inside the hall. “How was the library?”

“Wordy,” I said, handing him my cloak. Glancing around us, I discreetly slid him a book under my cloak.

He took a peek at the cover, covered it with my coat, and gave me a nod. “Any warnings for me?”

“Cecil cheats on her with the cousin who came to visit the estate.”

“Becca? I didn’t think she had it in her.”

“Right? But she was actually there because she'd gotten pregnant by that Earl rake from chapter thirteen who refused to marry her, and now she’s told everyone the child is Cecil’s.” Cecil being the coachman from the first book who turned out to be a secret count in disguise.

He huffed. “Let them both burn for what they did to Camila.” —Camila being the vampire high lady.

“That’s what I said!”

A small smile had tilted the corner of his moustache up. “The sire has sent word that he’d like you to get ready for tonight.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight? Never leave things so open to possibilities, Christof. Tonight as in my exsanguination via two puncture wounds on my neck, or tonight as in a stroll in the park under the full moon?”

He leaned in. “The Earl of Galahad and his wife have sent an invite for dinner. I suspect they’d like to meet you.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they are your husband’s maternal grandparents.”

I nodded and headed up the stairs, only to turn to Christof again. “What does someone wear to this sort of thing?”

“I presume a dress.”

I nodded again, turning for the stairs. “Right, right.”

“I’ve already hung it out for you in your dressing room.”

I grabbed his face. “I could kiss you right now.”

The old man blinked slowly. “Your husband will be here in ten minutes.”

“Now, why would you mention him just when things were about to get so romantic between us?”

He shook his head when I gave him a wink and stomped up the stairs, throwing my bedroom door wide open and startling Thomas out of his pink skirt. Whatever Piper had been doing to him these past few days had erased all his appetite for children. Could even say he was a little disgusted by them, too.

I picked him up. “Awe, don’t you look so fat and cute.”