Instinctively, her hand came to rest over her heart. Seeing her father produce the weapon from his stores cast him in a new light. She'd never taken him for a believer of such tales and thought him more like herself—a skeptic.
"Father," she started, her other hand still holding the stake away from her body and glancing at it nervously. Seeing the weapon made everything feel real. Her father had always been her rock, always there in moments of strife, always to be relied upon. If he was worried, well, she certainly was out of her depth. But she cleared her throat and pushed the idea of fear out of her mind. "You're not saying you believe in these creatures, are you?"
He chuckled, dark and different, unlike the lighthearted laughter that usually spouted from those lips in her presence. "Of course not, dear. Like I said, just to put me and your mother's hearts at ease. Take it," he said.
Elena took the stake and exited the room without another word, leaving behind a poorly drawn bird, uncarved. But still, something had been learned. Her mother had long since quit the foyer, and silence echoed through the front hall as she held the stake tight to her chest. Strange, to see the material of her father's creations contorted into something dangerous, something that could kill.
But as she examined it, doubt crept in. Could this piece of wood truly kill the vampires of legend? If that were true, why did everyone fear them so? Certainly, getting close enough to them to strike them in the chest reeked of danger, but a single countermeasure meant so much more than nothing. Despite the fear that welled up in her chest in the workshop, a new sense of strength washed over her now. Before, she had just been a girl, unafraid of myths and stories taking over London, but now? Now she was a girl with a weapon, and what could be more frightening than that?
"Are you sure you don't want to stay? My mother insists," Caroline said, holding Elena's hands tight as her friend attempted to leave their residence. It was always this song and dance, or at least it had been, for the past few weeks. Elena staying just late enough for the sun to go down, and Caroline losing her head the moment she tried to leave. "Please," she begged once more.
Elena managed to detach herself from the blonde. "I promise, I'll be okay," she said, a smile appearing on her lips. She made for the exit before Caroline could beg any longer, before the blonde and her mother tied her to a chair to prevent her from walking out into the arriving night. As it seemed, no one quite approved of her hobbies, if you could call them such. Caroline would have preferred to call it putting one's life at risk.
As Elena stepped outside, she slipped a hand into her coat, feeling for the stake she'd hidden in the lining before quitting her own home a few hours prior. Carrying it felt like an omen, like giving in to the stories people told. It was as good as believing them herself to be carrying that stake. The heft of it in her coat only reminded her of potential danger, and the walk became much less carefree than usual. In fact, she even found herself checking the shadows behind her and watching for movement out of the corner of her eyes. What good her father had done! He'd only gone and made her paranoid, and paranoia did not guarantee her safety of any kind.
There was something different about her that night. He watched, because, of course, he did, picking up on her trail the moment she stepped over the threshold and into the night. Her shoulders weren't as rolled back, her head not held as high. Had something gotten to her sense of bravery? That certainly wouldn't do.
The vampire acted before his brain could catch up. "Miss?" he asked, stepping out of the shadow and letting a beam of flickering light fall over his features. Dark, tousled hair and blue eyes, and pale skin that only looked monstrous if you stared for too long. By glance alone, he was captivating.
Elena stopped walking. She shouldn't have. She should have clutched the stake tighter and started running, not stopping until she reached the safety of her home. Although, running may have only enticed him more. But no, she stopped and turned to look at the man daring to speak to her in such an uncouth setting.
Before she could respond, he continued, "I'm so sorry," he said, voice smooth and silky. His eyes locked onto hers, and she found it impossible to look away. Captivation taking over. "I didn't mean to alarm you. You look frightened, is all—"
"Of course I'm frightened!" she snapped, tugging her eyes away from him at last. "I dislike it when strange men speak to me in the middle of the night."
"I believe the night is only just at its beginning—"
"Did you need something from me, Sir?" she asked, attempting to remain pleasant with the man, despite her desire to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. Subconsciously, she wished to drag her eyes back to his, but instead remained fixated on the fine trim of his coat. He must have been wealthy to afford a coat so nice. But she knew better to assume that wealthy men were safe to speak with at night. They had money, which meant they could cover up any of their misdeeds.
He straightened, clearing his throat and offering her the crook of his elbow. "Can I escort you home?" he asked. "You must know it's dangerous to be out by yourself at this time of night." It was impossibly difficult to read her emotions. Had she even been frightened before he'd approached, or had he imagined it? It seemed like all her bravado had returned now, the rising red of anger in her cheeks calling to him like a siren song. All at once, he could hear the sound of blood pumping through her veins, could imagine its taste, how heavenly it must be! His head cocked to the right, his tongue running over his lower lip, calculating. How fast could he strike? Would she see it in his eyes? Would she start to run away?
She spoke again, breaking his trance—although she hardly seemed to notice. "I suppose an escort couldn't hurt," she said finally. It would be an odd strategy of a killer to offer their services first, wouldn't it? And while Elena didn't exactly have the best instincts when it came to who to trust, she felt somewhat confident in this decision—even though it was, in fact, the wrong one. Besides, if he planned to kill her, what could she do to escape him now? She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and the contact almost destroyed what was left of his self-control.
"So, you've heard the rumors, then," Elena started as they walked together. Did most normal people know about the vampire stories as she did? Did they pay attention to the rumors? Did they check the paper each Sunday morning to see if there had been any recent attacks? Or did the average London dweller not share her fascination with the circulating gossip?
A small imperceptible smile turned up the corner of the vampire's lips. Oh, how he had heard the rumors indeed. "What rumors, my lady?" he asked, voice calm and uninterested, even though he struggled to keep his composure so close to a food source.
Elena held her tongue. Her father would have warned her that this was not the right topic of conversation for a young lady such as herself, though he probably also would have fallen unconscious at the idea of her walking with a gentleman so late.
After a moment of silence, however, she found that she couldn't keep the words in any longer. "Of vampires, sir." She said them so casually as if she were discussing the cut of fabric over breakfast with a friend she'd known for years.
The vampire chuckled, deep and full of bass. "And rumors they surely are. Don't you think so?" He asked, eyes shifting over to watch her as he spoke, looking for any change in her demeanor. A small smile flitted across her lips, but he didn't miss it.
She turned to him then, subconsciously brushing her hair away from her neck. The vampire tried not to stare at the cool pink skin of her neck and the gentle throbbing of the vein beneath it. Elena, however, was too deep in her mind, her vicious determination to discard vampires as a possibility came to life at his few words of dismissal. Finally, someone who thought just like her! If only she could see what was right in front of her. Or, in this case, just to the side.
"Yes!" she said, eyes meeting his once again and momentarily getting lost in the ocean-blue pools. The Thames was no match for the sparkling gaze that looked upon her now. "I agree. Rumors and fairy tales!" She could hardly contain her excitement, and it only resulted in more blood rushing to her cheeks, of which he could not ignore. "I find the people of London to be much too paranoid, don't you?" she asked.
He chuckled heartily once more. "Are you not from around here?" he asked.
"Oh, I've lived in London my entire life."
He nodded. "You speak as if you do not claim these people as your own."
Her eyes dropped away momentarily. "It feels as if they fear living, whereas I simply do not," she said confidently. "But they are my people, I suppose, no matter how dim they may be. What about you, Mr—?" It occurred to her then that she walked with a stranger.
He lowered his head slightly, capturing her eyes once more. "Salvatore. And you, Miss?"
"Gilbert." She half-curtsied and could feel her mother disapprove from across town.
"Well, Miss. Gilbert, you certainly are much more fearless than many of the other ladies I've met in London so far, and plenty of the gentlemen as well." He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. How many times had he imagined ripping into her neck in the midst of conversation? How many times had her death played out before him in vivid detail? And yet, he continued on with her hand resting against her arm, the sound of her blood loud in his ears. To think, his brother had said he had no willpower. If only the man could see him now.
Elena lowered her head, looking at her hand on his arm. Was she truly fearless, or was she tempting fate, as her mother said? Though she felt safe now, that fear still lurked in the back of her mind. Why had it appeared so suddenly the moment her father armed her? As if the so-called vampires of the city could smell the scent of the wood from long off distances and were on their way to hunt her down. Looking back on that moment of weakness, she only felt idiotic; her confidence now returned in the presence of Mr. Salvatore.
Before she could speak again or he could question her once more, she came to a halt in front of her family's small home. Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to lead this stranger here, but if he were as wealthy as he looked and even half as kind as he portrayed, maybe her father would wish to meet him. He was always looking to speak with potential investors for his craft. But did Mr. Salvatore look like someone who would support the arts, or would inviting him inside only result in a scolding from both her parents?
"Thank you for the escort," she said, pulling her hand away from his arm. He didn't let it fall, but instead captured it and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. How easy it would be to pull her in by the wrist and sink his teeth into her neck. But still he resisted for reasons he couldn't understand.
"Of course, Miss Gilbert. I'm happy to see you home safe."
She looked at her hand held gently in his, blushing when his lips grazed her knuckles and shivering at the contact. Finally, she pulled away, turning to place a hand on the doorknob, warmth and safety waiting only a few steps away.
He stepped closer to her, unable to help himself, craning his neck downward only slightly to take in the scent of her hair as she moved. He composed himself when she turned back around and caught his eye. "Would you like to come in?" she asked, trying to inject confidence into her words. When silence fell after them, the vampire collected his thoughts, but she spoke again hurriedly. "I'm sure my father would like to meet the man who ensured my safe return tonight."
A smile crossed the vampire's lips. Maybe Elena saw it as just that, a kind smile. But behind his eyes, his mind turned with thoughts, a sinister plan forming that he couldn't help but delight in. "That's quite alright, Miss Gilbert. I should be on my way." He turned to leave, walking away without a backward glance.
Elena stepped inside, her own heart racing after such proximity to the handsome Mr. Salvatore. Oh, how she wished to learn more about him. As she readied herself for bed and slipped under the covers, all thoughts of vampires were long gone from her mind, and she could only think about how she could possibly manage to see the kind stranger once more.
The vampire, however, had no such worries.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I'm having so much fun with this one. Hoping for it to be around 10 chapters or so. Will be updating At Dawn soon as well.