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I was going to be young and hot looking forever,
all in return for a few minor drawbacks, like not being able to take sunlight – who does, these days? I secretly thought I’d got the best deal of all…until half an hour ago.
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“My apologies for putting you in the position of not having a name by which to address me, madam.” Instead of taking offense at Brooklyn’s brusqueness, he obligingly stepped aside. “Allow me to rectify my omission, ladies. Heath Lockridge, late of the First New York Muskets.” I was concentrating so hard on not going into total meltdown at his adorable English-type way of speaking that I barely took in what he was saying. “Your theory about our hastily departed friends is admirable but wrong, I fear. The cadaverous Viktor is what is called an orthodontist, I understand, recently arrived in town upon the sad demise of his uncle, also a practitioner in the field. I am no expert on the profession, madam, but I have been told ’tis no very great matter for one such as he to outfit himself and other nonimmortals with a set of retractable canines, although he seems to have let his followers believe they received the gift of fangs from his vampyr bite.”
For a moment I forgot to flirt. “Omigod, he must be Dr. Maisel’s nephew. My sis—” I caught myself “—I mean, the local Daughter of Lilith and her Healer sister staked Maisel and his witchy wife after they turned vamp. Not that I was there or anything,” I added hastily as I stepped forward into the spill of illumination coming from the open exit door of a building backing onto the alley.
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