The Dirigible Airship Disaster by Lucille Moncrief

Author:Lucille Moncrief [Moncrief, Lucille]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Moncrief's
Published: 2018-02-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Elyse Delafayette

The teeth marks on my wrist were angry, red, forming rough scabs and sore as bee stings, but they still could not compete with the anger that consumed me. How dare he. His immortality had him entitled, whiny, and self-absorbed. Were they all like that now? Did the only good man die in a fire four years ago?

In response to Dr. Henderson’s wild disregard for my well-being, I’d gone up to the attic where Mr. Pembroke kept his medieval artifacts collection. I’d rummaged through the boxes for hours, searching in the dim light of the dusty attic for the silver chainmail mock-up of a crusader’s armor. Dozens of sneezes, and a pair of dirty and bruised knees later, I found it on an old dress manikin inside a window seat.

The waning of the day caused me to shudder with a strange mix of apprehension, excitement and mischief, knowing Dr. Henderson would return for me once dusk settled. I wondered then what kind of look would cross his face once he saw my silver armor; the only thing I knew could deter, or at least, contain him. And what would he do? Laugh, cry, rage? Maybe he would find my clever defiance even more bewitching. A shiver ran through me as I clutched the slippery, cool armor and raced down the stairs, quiet and fleet-footed, into my bedroom, and locked the door.

Draping the armor over the back of a chair, I rummaged through the drawers of the vanity for a set of silver bracelets, wondering with a shaky hand if I ought to bother with pendants or chokers. It was odd that he hadn’t fed from my neck, like he couldn’t break the skin there despite his desire, and his reaction had been terrifying. I felt like toying with him for once. It was the least hospitality I could offer him for such rough handling the night prior. Denying him was exhilarating, dancing on the edge of danger. He’d had ample opportunity to end my life, and he hadn’t. Why would he now? He’d already promised me eternal life and I chose to believe him. But, I might as well allow myself some entertainment before I granted him the directing of my funeral.

Bottles of perfume and tubes of rouge clattered together as I opened and closed the jewelry box drawers, sifting through the chains for all the silver. A gold, pearl ring was caught in the lobster clasp of a filigree choker, and it clattered to the floor, rolling somewhere near the edge of the bed as I gently shook the choker loose before setting it onto the vanity’s surface. I closed the jewelry box now that I had a sufficient pile of silver to adorn myself with and watch the torture of Dr. Henderson commence.

I pulled my hair away from my unmarred neck, the messy curls brushing against my cheekbones, and placed the choker overtop the base of my throat. With a satisfied smirk, I fastened the lobster claw and adjusted my hair.

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