Trust Me by Lori Devoti

Author:Lori Devoti [Lori Devoti]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Fire and Fangs
Published: 2011-09-28T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Marie Jean

1835

St. Louis, Missouri

As the driver reined the carriage horses to the side of the road, Marie Jean fluffed her skirt and waited.

After only a moment, the door to the carriage opened, and Henry climbed inside. He was pale and his suit stained.

Marie Jean pursed her lips and scowled. “You have been absent too long.”

Henry reached a gloved hand toward her, but she hid her fingers under her muff.

His gaze falling, he lowered his body onto the seat across from her and dug something out of his pocket. His fingers closed over whatever he held, he said, “I thought you had heard.”

“Of the whelp?” Marie Jean turned her attention to the scene outside the carriage window. Henry’s home was out of the city, on a bluff overlooking the Meramec River. In the summer, tourists rode down on trains to frolic, but in the winter, no one without cause visited. Yet Henry chose to call the area home.

“A boy, born yesterday.”

She turned to stare at him. “Has he fangs?”

Henry’s eyes widened. “No!”

She shrugged. “Then perhaps he isn’t yours.” She had heard that vampire males could father a child after their turn, but she had never encountered such a happening herself.

“He has no teeth at all. He is but a babe.”

“A babe who will grow up to kill you.” If the child truly was Henry’s and the stories of such half-breeds were true. “You should rid yourself of him first.” She couldn’t risk losing Henry. He had done little enough to help with her plan, but he was loyal, and he was hers.

“He is a babe!” Henry’s horrified expression told her he had yet to embrace the favor she had given him.

“He is a dhamphir. Do you know nothing? They grow into monsters who hunt and kill their fathers.”

“As you hunt your family?”

Henry’s voice was low but the words impossible to miss—or ignore. Marie Jean closed her eyes to hide the anger that rippled through her—not at the question but the gall to ask it, to question her at all. When she was sure her true feelings were no longer visible on her face or in her eyes, she opened them. “I…you know why I have done what I’ve done. You know I take no pride or pleasure in my acts.” She turned her face away again, this time with a sob.

“I know… I’m sorry.” Henry fell to his knees on the floor beside her; again he reached out one hand. The other he kept closed and pressed against his thigh.

This time she allowed him to take her trembling fingers into his grasp. “They are the monsters. They are the ones that must be stopped.”

She bit her lip and sniffed. “And your son, if the stories are true, will be the same. He will grow to adulthood, and he will take you…from me. Would you allow that? Would you leave me alone, again?”

“You know I would not.”

“Then you’ll do it?” Her voice went soft, filled with regret. “You will kill him?”

“I—”

She could see Henry was torn.

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