Nocturne by Lisa Hardrader

Author:Lisa Hardrader [Hardrader, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-5759-0
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Flan managed to hold her tongue as she showed the Lord Blakely Committee from the bookshop. But as soon as the door had closed and the latch clicked behind them, she let loose on Obsidian.

“No hard feelings? Well, of course the butcher would have no hard feelings.” She snatched up the feather duster. “He wasn’t the one who was publicly scorned and criticized on a street corner, whose help and magic and hard work were simply dismissed by his neighbors.”

She hung the duster on its hook and turned to gather the scattering of books on the work counter.

“And of course they wanted Uncle to be the first to know. But not to relieve his worries. They care nothing of his worries. They simply wanted to rub his nose in it.” She heaved the stack into her arms. “As if they haven’t done enough of that these past months.”

She turned to the bookshelves—

—and nearly jumped from her skin. The stack of books tumbled from her arms and skittered across the floor.

The black-haired stranger stood in the aisle between two bookshelves, top hat in his hand.

Flan stared at him. “I—but, I didn’t—how did you—” She tried to press her thundering heart back into her chest.

The stranger reached a hand out to steady her. “I’ve startled you. Forgive me. The door was unlocked. I thought you’d be expecting me.”

“Oh.” Flan blinked. “Yes. I was. I just … wasn’t expecting you among the bookshelves.”

She bent to gather the books that now littered the floor, but before she could retrieve even one, the stranger had swept them all into his arms. As he straightened them into a neat stack and turned to place them on the counter, Flan could not help noticing how the fine wool of his topcoat fit snugly across his broad shoulders, how his black hair curled over his upturned collar.

He studied the books for a long moment, reading the title on each spine, his brow creased in a puzzled frown. Then he looked up and smiled, his pale eyes meeting hers, and for a moment it seemed that any words she might have uttered had simply frozen in her throat.

“Well, then,” she finally said. What was it with his eyes? How did they have the power to render her so completely senseless? She shook her head. “I believe you’ve come for this.”

She delved into the pocket of her frock and pulled out a lush velvet pouch of the deepest violet, embellished with gold thread. She had worked hard on the adornment, for it needed to be fit for a gentleman.

And the talisman itself needed to be fit for a vampire hunter. She loosed the drawstrings of the pouch and found her hands trembling as she slid from it a thick bar of blue-gray metal, its surface polished to a dull sheen, its edges smooth. Inscribed on the top was an ancient protection rune, even and clear, showing Flan’s sure hand in the carving of it. Flan could not breathe as she held it out to him.

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