Hatred is the madness of the heart...
1972
"Who are Ivan and Daisy?"
"No one you know." Cutler took the folder of papers off Gina and put it back on the pile on his desk. "Please stop moving things around. There is a system here."
Gina laughed and swung her feet up on his desk, planting her high heels firmly on the heap of files he'd just straightened up.
"I thought you only worked with vampires nowadays, how do you have photos of them?"
He wasn't going to get any more work done that day. He hadn't seen Gina for months, almost a year, and as usual she had breezed in without warning and carried on where they had left off. He lifted up her feet and took the files away, dropping them in a drawer which he locked, watching as she recrossed her ankles and admiring her long legs.
"They need travel documents and I need photos for that. Anyway, you know how, the photos are of people who look similar, no one ever looks at passports that carefully."
"I do like the look of him... is it a good likeness?" Gina waved a photo at him. "Maybe you could introduce me?"
He took the photo off her and put it back in the file, smiling. Even the famously laid back Ivan would find Gina something of a challenge.
"Daisy would not be pleased if I did and believe me, you do not want to be on the wrong side of Daisy"
Gina took her legs off the desk and walked around the office – Cutler had let her design it when he had moved in and it was much more modern than he would have chosen but he had come to like it. He hadn't stayed long at the last place after Fergus attacked Linda. Gina had persuaded him to make a clean break and start again, working on his terms not those left over from Hal. The bright, sleek setting made the older vampires uncomfortable and that worked to his advantage. His age meant they took him less seriously so anything he could do to gain some authority was worth it.
Gina was looking at two new pictures he had acquired as part payment for his help. They were abstracts, stark black and white images and she smiled as she looked at them, clearly recognising the style.
"Are they originals?"
He shrugged. He had no idea and with some of his clients it was best not to ask too many questions. Or any questions at all.
"I haven't a clue. Do you approve?"
"I do rather. I had no idea you had any taste at all." She came over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders then running them down the lapels of his jacket. "Speaking of which I see you've finally started dragging yourself out of the 40s. I like the suit, much better than those stuffy old waistcoats and pinstripes."
She undid his tie and dropped it in the bin.
"That is too dull to live." She undid the collar of his shirt and then stood back to look at him. "I'm going to have to help you find some decent shirts but it's a start.
"You look presentable enough to take me for a drink without me dying of embarrassment anyway. Give me another ten years and I might even get you a decent hair cut!" She swung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. "Come on then, don't just stand there!"
Cutler smiled and followed her, locking the office and finally catching up with her on the pavement. He had things to do but he'd learned the hard way about when it was worth trying to argue with Gina and they'd had some spectacular rows over the years, although never about anything particularly serious. He rarely won but then, and he laughed out loud at the memories, she cheated. She knew he was scared of hurting her and she took full advantage of being able to distract him physically.
"What's so funny?"
"You are."
She rolled her eyes.
"You always say the nicest things. Makes me so glad I came to find you." She linked her arm in his. "Let's find a pub; if you're going to be rude to me I need a drink." She stood up on her toes so she could kiss his neck, just under his ear as she whispered. "And when I've had a drink you can take me home so I can be very rude to you." She laughed as she felt his arm round her waist pulling her closer before he remembered they were in the street and let her go.
Cutler never realised quite how much he missed Gina until she was with him and he was curious about her latest adventures, she'd never been away for so long before. They spent less time together now, he had his work and was slowly gaining a reputation for being useful in the vampire world while she was travelling and finding new distractions. After Linda's death he had stayed in Gina's house for months and they'd talked endlessly about what he was and how what she had learned could help him. She'd listened when he talked about Rachel and about Hal, although secretly she wondered if Rachel could possibly have been that faultless, any marriage that perfect. She helped him start afresh, to begin to accept what he was but as soon as he was settled she disappeared for weeks. She always came back and he was always the first person she looked for whatever she'd done and wherever she'd been. He could see the irony, he was the one who had told her he would always come back to her and it turned out she was living a free life while he was the one who stayed behind.
At first he had hated not knowing what she was doing, she still found men everywhere she went but he knew that he couldn't be with her all the time, it was too dangerous for her. Not to mention that she would have driven him mad and in truth he knew he preferred to be alone. He had had a charmed life with Rachel and that had been perfect in every way. Now he had a part of Gina – probably more than she allowed anyone else to have - and that had to be enough. He told himself he wasn't jealous, that he couldn't offer her a human life but he envied anyone who took her attention and her time, attention that could have been his. He knew that some vampires made themselves a companion, as Ivan had done, but he didn't want to risk making a vampire who wanted to kill, he had worked so hard to accept that he could find a way without it. He'd never recruited and never intended to. It was another part of being what he was that he wanted to avoid and however you looked at it, it was still a death.
They found a pub on the second attempt, the first one had mirrors everywhere which always got a little awkward, and Cutler bought drinks. He lit cigarettes for both of them and Gina caught hold of his hand.
"No ring." She squeezed his fingers. "I noticed you'd put Rachel's photos away."
He didn't reply but she noticed his other hand went to his neck almost without thinking and she leaned over and undid another button on his shirt, sliding her hand under the collar. He had a silver chain round his neck and it had his wedding ring threaded on it. She looked at it; there was an inscription on the inside.
"What does this mean?"
"Vita aeterna, it means eternal life. I'd forgotten it was there, Rachel chose it. Her ring had amor es meus, in aeternum inside; 'my love, for eternity'. They're curious choices in light of what happened." He tucked the ring back into his shirt. "It was time to put the photos away – apart from anything else it got a bit messy when I forgot and told someone it was over twenty years since my wife died."
"That would have made you six." Gina smiled at him "I bet you were a gorgeous little boy."
"I really wasn't. I was very grubby, dressed in hand-me-downs and much too common to appeal to you. Although I was six when I first saw Rachel."
Gina sighed; she was starting to get a little bit tired of hearing about his perfect wife and their perfect life. He'd done so well in moving forward but it was time he put his marriage in the past. She'd been trying to convince him to take off his wedding ring for a few years but he had always changed the subject.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while and then Cutler got them more drinks. When he sat down again, she moved to sit close to him so he could feel the warmth of her skin. She was very tanned which was unusual and it seemed to him that she glowed, her skin felt like he remembered sunlight did in the days when it didn't burn.
"I can tell you're not going to tell me so I suppose I have to ask. Where have you been?"
"I've been busy but for the last few weeks I was in Italy. I've been posing for an artist I met in Florence. Lying around in the sun in some rather lovely gardens and no clothes at all. Maybe you'll see me in a gallery one day."
"It'll make a change to know where you are." It came out sharper than he intended and she raised her eyebrows.
"Before that I was in Switzerland and then I went to New York. I've been looking up some old friends."
"Are you sure that's wise? Why would you go back to New York after what happened?"
"I think I'll decide what's wise for me. What's wrong with you? You're very critical today." Gina drained her glass and stood up to go to the bar.
"Haven't you had enough? You know I worry about you and how you put yourself at risk." As soon as he spoke he knew he'd said the wrong thing. He did worry about Gina but he knew that whatever he said or did she wouldn't change her life for him or for anyone and he admired and envied her that.
It was too late to take it back though and she was furious.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do. You worry? That's rich coming from a killer; I'm more at risk with you than anyone else I might meet." She stared at him, he couldn't remember seeing her so angry before.
"I'm not your perfect fucking wife. I'm not Rachel and I never will be. Why would I want to be?" She reached over and pulled the chain out from under his shirt, pulling it hard enough that it snapped. She dropped his wedding ring on the table.
"You might have eternal life but you will never properly live it until you leave the past behind. You can't control me and keep me at home.
"Deal with it. Or walk away"
She spun on her heel and for a moment he thought she would walk out but she went to the bar, climbing up on a high stool and ordering a very large gin.
Cutler knew she was right. He wanted her to behave in a way he understood but it wasn't going to happen and it was her zest for new adventures, her unpredictability that made Gina what she was. He wanted to go after her and apologise, sort things out but it was too soon. Gina never held a grudge but she had been so angry he needed to let her calm down a while. She was chatting to a man sat near her at the bar and he knew she would flirt with him to make her point. He sipped his whiskey and lit a cigarette, waiting for the moment when she would turn and look at him.
He would never walk away from her, he couldn't, and he finally admitted to himself that Gina knew him much better than Rachel ever had.
A year after Cutler had walked out of the cage he and Hal had found something that could be called a friendship. Cutler was considered Hal's protégé and earned a grudging respect as such although few of the vampires had much time for him, a vampire who didn't kill was a mystery to them. Hal was still reassessing Cutler. He wasn't what he had expected; he had anticipated great things and had been disappointed but when he had watched his madness in the cage, the vicious ferocity it had uncovered he had reconsidered. How Cutler had recovered and used his ordeal to gain strength had impressed Hal although he would never tell him. He had faith again that the potential he first saw could be fulfilled.
They could laugh together and work together, they spent many hours in each other's company, they drank and caroused together – to any observer they were friends. But neither trusted the other an inch.
They were sitting in Hal's club, a secret club monly open to the most senior vampires. Hal had hunted earlier – he always hunted – and Cutler had not. They were now sat by a grand fireplace, alternating decanters of brandy and blood and discussing the investments Cutler looked after for Hal.
As they drank the room emptied until they were the only ones left. It didn't matter; no one would even consider challenging Hal's right to be there as long as he wished. Neither was drunk but both were relaxed and less guarded than usual and the conversation flowed into other areas. When the talk paused while Hal lit cigars for them, Cutler broke the silence and asked a question he'd asked many times before.
"Why me?"
"Why not you." That was what Hal always said but he took sip of brandy and continued. "I saw the darkness you kept so well hidden."
He had never said that before. Cutler wasn't sure he wanted to hear more so he took the chance to ask the other question that was always on his mind.
"And why Rachel? She did you no harm. She never harmed anyone."
Hal laughed.
"Oh Nick. You do like to preserve the memory of your sainted wife. The angelic Mrs Cutler." He drank back a glass of blood. "Be honest. Was it really all so very perfect?
"Don't you realise that I know what you were and what you did. Isn't it time you admitted it?"
Cutler stared into the fire. Hal had never asked Cutler about his past and he'd thought he had no interest in his human life but maybe he hadn't asked because he hadn't needed to. What had he seen? What had he found out?
"I don't know what you mean. Rachel and I were happy; she was everything I ever wanted."
"Really?" Hal raised his eyebrows. "Really? You have a very selective memory. I know you Nick Cutler. I know all about your schemes and your secrets." He filled their brandy glasses again and sat back.
"Maybe I can prompt your memory a little. Let me see. All those names. Who to choose?" He paused, smiling in the way that warned Cutler he wasn't going to like what came next.
"I expect you will remember Lizzie, given that we met on the same day you last saw her? I believe she was very grateful for your help."
Cutler stared at him. Of course he remembered Lizzie; she had been in court in the morning of the day that he met Hal. The day that changed everything. He remembered her sitting in his office that afternoon.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Lizzie sat on the edge of the hard wooden chair in the tiny office watching the young solicitor finish off the papers that would let her go free. Although free wasn't really the word, she had to go back to her regular street corner; she hadn't made enough money yet to go home without earning a beating. Getting arrested was an occupational hazard and Mr Cutler had helped her before. All the girls knew him; he often managed to find errors in the paperwork that meant they escaped a fine so they asked for him whenever they were arrested. She'd heard the stories of course, but everyone said the price was worth paying. So far she hadn't been asked to pay and she was counting the seconds until she could leave.
"Right Lizzie, that's all done." He put his pen down and tidied up the papers. He sat back, looking her up and down, considering her face, as she sat still and hoped he'd let her go.
"There's just the question of my bill."
That was what the other girls had told her he would say. He had never said it to her before; they all knew he preferred blondes and Lizzie's dark hair and olive skin had let her escape his attentions so far. She looked at him, her face blank as she responded as she knew she had to.
"I don't have any money to pay you Mr Cutler, but I am very grateful."
He watched her eyes go dead, her professional face appearing, the one that stopped her feeling anything. It intrigued him how they could all put on this mask.
"Then you should demonstrate your gratitude."
For a moment she didn't move and he thought she might refuse. No one had refused before and he wondered what he would do but she stood up and walked round to where he sat. She was young and still pretty; her way of life hadn't left its mark yet although it wouldn't be long before she'd be just as worn and tough as the others. He'd seen her before and although her dark hair wasn't to his taste, today he saw something about the way she held herself, the way she moved that reminded him of Rachel. He usually found a more obvious likeness but Lizzie was here now. She would do.
She knew what was expected of her. The other girls must have told her and that was good, he hated having to explain, he didn't really want to talk to them at all. She knelt in front of him, her face expressionless as she undid his buttons and bent over him. He knotted his fingers in her hair, pulling it as she moved and with his other hand he reached out to turn the photograph on his desk so he could see Rachel's face.
She was surprisingly skilful considering she was so young and he was soon finished, his fingers tightening on her head to hold her still, knowing how desperate she was to get away from him. When he let her go he closed his eyes as she straightened his clothes, not opening them again until he heard the door close behind her.
He looked at the paperwork on his desk, he needed to go back to the police station, he had a pile of new cases to deal with. He reached for his briefcase, realising he had long dark hairs caught between his fingers and he gathered them together, dropping them in the wastepaper basket.
Only a few more hours and he would be home with Rachel.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Cutler was used to concealing his feelings but he knew that right now his thoughts were clear. How could Hal know, no one knew about the payment he took?
"She was a pretty girl, little Lizzie. Not any more though, and not blonde either, as I believe all the rest were. All those cheap whores. Where does that leave your perfect wife?"
"Rachel was perfect, it changed nothing." Cutler's voice was almost a whisper. "We were happy but Rachel didn't... wouldn't... She was different..." He sighed. "She never knew and it didn't make me love her any less."
Hal put his head back and laughed. He seemed genuinely amused and Cutler drank more brandy.
"Of course she knew. She knew every time and she knew you couldn't be bothered to hide it from her. It's too late to make excuses now."
"How could she have known?" Cutler was desperate for it to be a lie, that Rachel had known the truth about him, that he hadn't had complete control of their lives as he had thought was something he had never considered possible. "How can you be so sure? You didn't know her."
"I knew Rachel. I knew her well. We spent hours together and she talked to me. She understood that she had to die so why would she hide anything?" Hal leaned forward and spoke slowly, his tone measured and calm, every word slicing into Cutler, shredding the last of his illusions.
"She told me how much she loved you and how you treated her. How you moved her away from her family and friends, how you made sure she made no new friends. She hardly dared leave the house in case you came home and she wasn't there. She was terrified of making you angry.
"She knew you blamed her that she couldn't have children. You were wrong about that by the way, in case you didn't know. Oh, you have the paperwork, of course you know. Perhaps it was best she died, had you even considered that the child wasn't yours? You might want to think about that.
"And she knew about the whores. All of them and not just that you went with them but that you forced them. That you went from them to her, still smelling of their sweat and cheap scent.
"And she still loved you.
"I don't call that perfect, I call that deluded."
Cutler was still staring into the fire, he knew he truly loved Rachel, he'd been utterly, totally obsessed with her since he first saw her. Maybe he had deceived her – he'd deceived everyone – but they had been happy. He knew they had been happy. He would have known if she hadn't been. She would have told him.
Whatever she had told Hal it needn't have been true, she would have said anything to try and get back to her husband and Hal was only telling him this to gain some advantage. He couldn't possibly know what he had done; no one knew everything about him.
He looked up at Hal and a tear ran down his face but Hal just shook his head.
"Clever. The eternally grieving husband. You don't fool me as you've fooled everyone else. I know more about you than even you will remember."
He poured more brandy and sat back.
"Tell me the truth Nick. Why did you do it? Not just Rachel and the tarts, all of it?"
Cutler looked at Hal for a long time before he answered.
"Because I could."
Hal smiled.
"And now you know why I choose you."
The way Hal had dissected his relationship with Rachel wasn't something Cutler often thought about, it was too painful but Gina's words had made him remember. Part of him wanted Gina to be his, always waiting for him as Rachel had but she would never stand for it and he would lose her. She always came back and he had to learn what it was like to be the one who waited and wondered.
He looked over to where she was sitting; he could hear her laughter as she teased the man who had moved to sit beside her. Gina was clearly charmed by him; she had her hand on his arm and was leaning close to him, listening intently. He didn't look her usual type, he was older, medium height with sandy blond hair, someone you wouldn't look twice at in passing but he had certainly caught Gina's attention. The way she was looking at him was almost as if she were hypnotised. Cutler frowned, he'd been waiting for Gina to look over but she hadn't, she'd had long enough to make her point but she seemed unable to take her eyes off her new friend. As Cutler watched, increasingly curious, the man turned and raised his glass to Cutler. He smiled although it didn't reach his sharp blue eyes and as Cutler looked at him he realised. He was a vampire.
He was on his feet immediately, never mind if Gina was still angry with him, she needed to be warned. He walked over but before reached her the vampire stepped in front of him, holding out his hand.
"Mr Cutler I presume?" Cutler shook his hand warily. "I was coming to see you tomorrow; I've been told you are quite the expert in certain matters of property."
Cutler looked past him at Gina who was frowning.
"Oh, how remiss of me" the man chuckled. "Herrick, William Herrick. I'm terribly pleased to meet you. And your beautiful companion."
"And I you, Mr Herrick, and I'll be happy to talk to you tomorrow in my office."
Cutler wanted to get Gina away, he couldn't remember how he'd heard Herrick's name before but his instincts were telling him Gina wasn't safe. She was gathering up her bag and her jacket, she'd worked out what Herrick was by how he knew Cutler and she looked at him for guidance, her face serious and her eyes worried.
"Please excuse us, we must go, we have an engagement." Cutler took her arm and went to leave but Herrick was stood in their way. He took Gina's hand.
"Thank you for the pleasure of your company. Maybe we'll meet again." He lifted her hand and kissed it, turned it over and put his lips to the inside of her wrist, just for a moment before he let her hand go. Cutler felt Gina tense, he knew Herrick had felt her pulse, heard her blood as he did; and he realised that Gina was without the heavy silver bracelets she always wore. She even slept in them and he was sure she'd had them on earlier; he'd only ever seem her without them when she showed him her scarred wrists, the morning after they first met.
Herrick stepped to the side and allowed them to pass. Cutler turned as they went out of the door and he was watching them, the smile gone and his eyes calculating.
They were lucky and got a taxi straight away and once sat inside Cutler took Gina's hand and ran his fingers over her wrist.
"Where are your bracelets?"
She held up her handbag.
"They're in here, they're quite safe. I decided it was time I stopped hiding, you've taken off your wedding ring so I thought I could let my scars show." She forced a smile. "Although maybe I didn't pick my moment well. Who was that man? I gather he's like you."
"I don't know him although I'm sure I've heard the name before." He looked at the driver; he had to be careful what he might overhear. "He's not an Old One but he's much older than I am. I'll meet with him tomorrow so please stay away from the office and if you see him don't let him get close. You'll be safe at home."
She nodded, her instinct was to argue but this wasn't her world and she had to rely on Cutler to protect her. Much as she hated to be protected.
Back at Gina's house – she refused to go to his new flat, despite her help in furnishing it she always said his bed linens and gin weren't up to the quality she expected – she lit the fire and brought in whiskey. Cutler looked around, there were items of furniture missing and the room looked half empty.
"I've sold the house." Gina finished building up the fire and saw him looking around. "I needed to release some capital. I've bought a smaller place a few streets away. Really I should have moved by now but the new owner isn't in a hurry."
"Are you in trouble?" Cutler was concerned. "Do you need money?"
"No, of course not!" She laughed at him. "Not that I'd take yours anyway, I have no idea where it's been. Everything is fine but I do have something to tell you."
Cutler could see her eyes shining, she was excited and he couldn't help but think that this was not going to be good news for him.
"I'm starting my own practice as a counsellor. That's where I've spent most of my time for the last few years, training and qualifying. I'm finally ready to start up on my own. I'm going to try to help addicts, people like me." She got up to refill their glasses.
"That's... amazing." It was probably the last thing that Cutler had expected her to say but he could see the sense in it. Gina had helped him, more than he had realised at the time. She was still helping him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know, I suppose I was scared I wouldn't manage it, I didn't want to tell you I'd failed. It was easier to let you think I was still flitting around being decorative instead of attempting to be vaguely useful. Although I have managed to do a fair amount of amusing things too.
"I would have told you earlier but you were too busy treating me like an irresponsible trollop."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Gina put her fingers over his mouth.
"I'm teasing darling, I know you dream of a 1940s housewife but they're all out of stock right now. Trollop is all that's on offer."
She ran her fingers down his neck and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, running her warm hands over his cold skin. She pushed his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, trapping his arms behind him, laughing as he struggled to get them free. She kissed her way down his chest and then slid off the sofa to kneel on the floor beside him, undoing his belt.
He finally got his arms free and as he stoked her hair, his fingers on her throat feeling the familiar rhythm of her blood his mind found an image of Lizzie with her dark hair and her dead eyes.
"Gina."
"Now what?"
"Why are you with me? Is it really because you want to be or am I just some sort of curiosity?"
"You do ask stupid questions, do I ever do anything I don't want to? I'm here because of you – regardless of what you are, regardless of what you've done. Because of you."
"Thank you."
"You're very welcome. Now may I carry on? Nanny always told me it was rude to talk with my mouth full."
Next morning Cutler was in his office early, he didn't want to be unprepared when Herrick arrived. He hadn't wanted to leave Gina, he had a nagging sense of concern that wouldn't shift and he'd lain awake most of the night watching her sleeping. She had curled up beside him, her head on his chest and her arms and legs wrapped round him. He only ever felt warm when he was with her. He'd woken her up when he left – she wasn't pleased – and made sure she intended to stay inside the house until he could get back.
It was mid morning when Herrick arrived. He was genial and charming and although Cutler tried to resist he couldn't help being drawn in. He had a decanter of blood set out on the desk ready, he didn't drink every day now, but it was expected that he offered a drink to his clients, especially the older ones. He poured and Herrick held up the glass.
"Beautiful crystal. I imagine that is Hal's influence? He was always renowned for expecting the very best. Although your office isn't what I would have expected. It's... interesting."
He raised the glass to Cutler and they both drank.
Cutler had been searching his files and his memory for information about Herrick but had drawn a blank. All he could remember was that he'd been mentioned as being ambitious. He wasn't based in London so he didn't mix in any of the circles Cutler knew. He was no less wary though, he could read Herrick, he had no idea if he was a friend or an enemy.
"So, how can I be of assistance?" He wanted to get Herrick to the point and out of the office so he could go back to Gina.
"I'm looking at a particular property in Bristol. Technically it isn't for sale but I'd like you to make enquires and to see what can be arranged. In the meantime there are some other suitable places I want you to purchase for me. Obviously the paperwork needs to be in an alias that you will set up."
"Why not use someone local? I assume you have legal help there?"
"Of course." Herrick smiled but he didn't like being questioned. "I had to pay a visit to London, to check in on, well, lets say an acquaintance and you've been highly recommended. I'll be honest, I was curious. Any protégé of Lord Harry has to be worth a look."
"I'll do what I can." Cutler was writing a few notes as was his habit but Herrick leaned over and took the paper. He tore it up and put the pieces in his pocket.
"Nothing on paper." The smile had gone and his voice was cold. "Only whatever has to be done in the alias."
"Whatever you say." Cutler wasn't going to argue. "How soon do you want to proceed?"
"As soon as possible, if you can begin today that would be perfect." The smile was back and again Cutler had to concentrate not to be taken in by Herrick's charm. "I am leaving for Bristol now, my car is outside but you have an address where you can contact me."
He walked to the door, looking back at Cutler before he opened it.
"Don't bother to check the address, it won't get you anywhere."
Cutler walked over to the window and watched as Herrick got into a car outside, the driver pulling away immediately.
He sat down at the desk again and rewrote the notes that Herrick had torn up and put them in a new file. He would pass the properly purchases on to someone else to deal with in Bristol whether Herrick liked it or not but he'd think about the other enquiries. He didn't want to keep in contact with Herrick but he needed to know more before he risked offending him. He locked the files away, leaving everything else so he could get back to Gina's house, glad that the meeting was over and Herrick was gone.
He opened the front door, calling Gina's name but there was no reply. She wasn't downstairs but she often spent the morning in bed, as long as she had a pot of coffee, cigarettes and a book she could laze around for hours. He ran up the stairs and into her room, stopping in the doorway when he saw Herrick sitting on the window seat.
"How the hell did you get in here?"
Herrick chuckled.
"Now that is an interesting story. It turns out that your lovely Gina has sold the house and the new owners happened to be here. Their invitation worked just as well as hers would have done. Luckily they were just leaving, saved me having to dispose of the bodies."
As he turned Cutler noticed he had a raw scratch on the side of his face, it must be new as it had barely started to heal. Cutler heard a faint noise and turned to see Gina propped up on pillows in bed, her eyes wide and terrified, and a thin stream of blood running down her neck. She was so pale and Cutler just stared. What had he done? She was trying to speak but she was too weak and her eyes started to close.
He ran to her and held her, the smell of her blood was overwhelming him and he knew his eyes were black but he didn't want her to see. The marks in her neck were small and neat but Herrick's high colour told Cutler that he had left Gina with barely enough blood to stay alive.
Herrick stood up and picked up his gloves, looking at his hands. They were bleeding, covered in deep scratches from Gina's nails.
"Such a shame really, she's interesting and a fighter and for some reason she rather likes you. Never mind, she's not quite gone, you can still turn her."
He walked out on the landing and Cutler heard him chuckle again and he called back to him.
"Fergus sends his regards."