Page 56 of When Bones Whisper
She nodded. “I understand why you want to become a vampire, but do you not worry that would lose touch with your humanity?”
Hartley shook her head and handed Charlotte a small teacup. “I’d only kill those who deserve it. If you do not require anything else, I should go and serve Lord Sallow.”
“In the attic?”
Hartley smiled but didn’t say anything.
“Why is it only you serve me?” Charlotte asked before Hartley could leave. “I know there are more staff.”
“Lord Sallow asked me to take care of you. He doesn’t trust most of his staff, especially not the men. He wanted them all to stay away from you.”
Her stomach clenched. “I didn’t know that.”
“How could you? You’re in good hands here, Miss. You are his chance at a fresh start, at redemption.”
Her heart palpitated. “Why does he need his curse to break to get that?”
“Because he believes himself to be a monster and by God is he right. He is adept at savagery, Miss. I’ve cleaned up enough after him to see how he leaves his victims. Alexander and the others who come don’t come close. I think that’s why he is so desperate to become mortal. Since you’ve arrived, he’s fed three, sometimes four times a day. It used to be once or twice a week.”
An icy slither wrapped around her, sinking through her pores. She brushed her fingers against her throat. She had a good idea why that was. The bond was driving him to madness, pushing him to destroy everyone else instead of her.
Chapter Seventeen
After searching for thirty minutes, she’d finally found a staff member to direct her to the attic.
She had gone completely mad. That, or her intrusive thoughts were correct, and she did have a death wish.
Slowly, Charlotte cracked open the small, black door at the end of the dim hallway from Nathaniel’s bedroom, revealing an enclosed, spiraling staircase. With a deep breath, she took one stone step at a time, wondering what he would do when he saw her. The last time they’d been together replayed in her mind.
Cut yourself now. Feed the beast until he cannot stop. There is nobetter way to die.
The sudden voice in her mind jolted her, pausing her mid-step. She didn’t want to die. At least, she didn’t think she did.
Did she?
You are turning into your father.
She shook her head, repeating to herself in a whisper, “My thoughts are not who I am. I do not want to die,” until the voice drowned into the rest of the noise in her head.
Her calves ached as she climbed the remaining stairs, the walls narrowing on either side, the darkness only relieved by gaslight when she walked out into the attic.
Exposed rafters covered the steeply pitched roof, and at the very back of the room, the moon shone through a circular window, casting shadows on the floorboards from the diamond-patterned tracery.
The hard muscles in Nathaniel’s back tensed when the boards creaked as she hesitantly closed the distance between them, spotting the tall mirror in front of him, encased in a gold frame. His eyes latched onto her in the reflection, and the harsh line of his jaw clenched.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She glanced at the gas lamp set upon a stack of old, leather suitcases covered in cobwebs, to the old, green armchair, and cabinet filled with an array of items.
“I needed to speak to you, after what happened,” she said softly.
He rolled back his broad shoulders, straightening his posture. “There is nothing to discuss. You were intoxicated with my blood.”
Her cheeks pinched with heat as she tipped her head back to look at him, heart pounding frantically against her ribcage. “Not that part.”
His glare bore into her, the gray in them darkening like mortuary smoke. “You came to find me, on yourown,” he stated, disbelief caressing every word, “So you could talk to me about how I desire nothing more than to kill you?”
She nodded, recognizing how foolish that was, but she had to confront him. “I don’t believe you will kill me.”
