Page 23 of Sharpen Your Claws

Their sign had been a gift from the Vandervults. William insisted most of all, saying she and Bessie worked so hard. He wanted to give more, but she felt so hopeless after coming home. She desired an achievement entirely her own, that didn’t come from bloodshed. William agreed not to give her a handout, however, the least he could do was ensure they had a beautiful wooden sign that would catch one’s eye.

Josef raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t. I won’t.”

She smiled and brushed a curl behind her ear. “Thank you for walking me back.”

“No problem. I have somewhere to be this way,” he said while swaying on the heels of his feet.

“Really? What are your plans?”

He wore a toothy, childish smile. “I got myself a date.”

Charmaine bit her tongue.

Of course he did because Josef was charming. The nurses were ecstatic when William hired him. He treated everyone nicely and helped where he could without fuss. He made everyone feel safer and would often play card or board games to keep patients focused on anything other than their suffering.

“She’s smart, works at the library,” he said excitedly. “I’m not that good at reading, but I had to do some paperwork for my Ma and we went to the library. She was there and helped us get through it. I asked her to lunch, couldn’t believe she said yes!”

“She would have been foolish not to. I hope you have a good time,” she said, tasting disappointment, then berating herself for daring to feel it.

She never planned to ask Josef for tea, even if she imagined it through the day while sewing. She would never admit to how often she pricked her fingers because she swooned at her own thoughts. At least in her daydreams, she always had a happily ever after. Reality wouldn’t be so kind and she wasn’t up to face such disappointment.

“Thank you.” Josef tipped his head. “Have a nice day, Miss Charmaine.”

“You too. Good luck on your date.” She hurried inside where she took to the sewing machine, the one place where she could dream to her heart’s content because that was all she believed she could do.

9

William

“Intobedyougo.”William tucked the blankets around Alice. Tawny brown fingers crept over the lip of the blanket, tugging the fabric toward her chin. The purple blanket matched her bonnet and sleepwear.

“Papa is taking me into town tomorrow. If we get a new book, will you read it to me?” Alice yawned.

“Of course.” He brushed her brown curls into her bonnet before kissing her temple. “Sweet dreams.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

He tapped her nose. “I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Very possible.”

He waited in the doorway until Alice’s eyes closed. She insisted on being as close to Uncle William’s room as possible, so he slept across the hall. His parents could not deny their first and only grandchild anything, not that he or his brothers could say no, either.

His bedroom had changed little. His mother kept it as he left it, the same pale blue walls and his canopied bed that served no purpose. He never slept with the curtains drawn, fearful the fabric could hide someone or something. Shelves full of books, both old and new, took up half of his room. He read when he could, but didn’t find as much enjoyment as he once did.

He could change the room. His parents had offered and his brothers, on the occasions they went into town, mentioned furniture stores they purchased from. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t changed the room. He simply never wanted to.

Stacks of papers littered the small dining table set by his bedroom window. He dropped into the chair to overlook the thoughts he and Charmaine conjured over the days after Josef’s visit. Their suspects began with locals. Josef mentioned the owner of a matchbox warehouse disliking the surrounding homeless population. There were plenty of other irritated parties, like nobles seeking to pass bills to shut down the soup kitchen and clinic. They claimed having the establishments at all encouraged citizens to be lazy, that they would gain benefits by losing work and home. The king himself made the list, seeing as he considered the outer banks an eyesore. Alas, without proof, the list was nothing more than speculation.

Soon, he could do more sleuthing. A letter sat nearby, one from the royal household thanking him profusely for bringing the issues to their attention. The king set out more patrols for the outer banks that would start in three days, although failed to state how long those patrols would last. He also found a doctor that would join full time, also not noted for how long or from where they hailed. William worried the doctor was fresh out of training and would still need a helping hand, but he wouldn’t know until tomorrow when he arrived.

In short, their best bet became believing in a fae. Nicholas hadn’t returned in three nights. The first thought in his mind was that Laurent forced Nicholas back to Faerie. Though he didn’t want Nicholas tormented by his father, his departure could be a blessing in disguise.

Every hour, his mind changed concerning his decision, whether it was right or wrong. Nicholas was not himself. William could cause more damage, and yet he wanted to see Nicholas again. He missed him enough to dream of Nicholas every night since, not the ones where they fought and struggled, but ones so sickly sweet he ached when he woke. Last night he dreamt of their dance and how different it could have ended, where they kissed and held one another without a worry in the world.

The thought made him laugh, a sound somewhere between disbelief and joy. He thought he would become wiser with age, but alas, he remained as tormented as ever.

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