Page 59 of The Agent and the Outlaw
A knock at my bedchamber door startled me from my musings. My butler, Charles, inclined his head and informed me my carriage was ready to depart.
“Merci,Charles.I’ll be down shortly.”
I stashed a small dagger in my skirts and fastened my favorite bracelet, a ring of black pearls on an expanding cord that I had often employed as a garrote. I was as ready as I ever was. I picked my way carefully over the snow-covered stairs and stepped up into the carriage, but not before catching a whiff of orange blossoms.
“I didn’t think you were coming tonight, as well,” I said to the dark interior of my carriage.
“What, and miss the show?Please,” Daphne said, the grin in her voice evident.
“The whole thing is absurd!” I complained. “Frankly, I’m just annoyed that I have to spend my entire evening with a bunch of obnoxious old men when I could be spending it drinking brandy in the tub in front of a fire and reading erotic novels.”
I signaled to the coachman to drive on, and we rumbled down the tree-lined drive of my estate.
“Charlotte,chérie, we both know that’s not how you really want to spend your evening,” Daphne said gently. Her supernatural eyes glowed in the dark like a predator. Did mine do the same?
“You’re right,” I sighed. “Drinking brandy in the tub is dangerous. Much too heady. Champagne, though—perfectly safe.”
She laughed. “So, I see we’re not discussing the tall, dark, brooding reason thatyouhave gone all broody.”
“I have not! How dare you suggest such a thing. I’m as silly and flippant as I ever was,” I insisted, pulling a flask from my garter and taking a swig. I needed a little liquid courage to get through this evening. I offered it to Daphne, and she took a drink, as well.
“Charlotte,” she said in a low voice. “It’sme.”
I frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…later,d’accord?We will talk later. I need to focus to get through this tonight.”
She nodded and we sat in companionable silence for the remainder of the ride. The carriage wheels crunched wetly through the snowy ruts in the road. I peered out the window, saddened by what my enhanced vision could now see. Worsening poverty unfolded throughout the city—more poor souls lost to the blood plague than ever before. I wondered if there were any humans remaining outside of court. It had been a choice for Daphne, brought about by the luxury of love, but most of the other vampires had infected themselves as the only other alternative to death by starvation. If this was partly due to the grain blight and the catastrophic absence of food, what would happen when France ran out of blood? Had the Order considered that?
Before long, we slowed to a stop in front of an abandoned cemetery on the outskirts of the city. The thick blanket of snow obscured many of the graves and I said a silent prayer for the forgotten inhabitants of this desolate place. Daphne and I descended from the carriage and walked to a shabby mausoleum at the back. She unlocked the heavy metal door and pulled it open, revealing an empty tomb lit by tall braziers and an ominous-looking stairwell descending underground.
We both paused a moment, steeling ourselves for what we knew would be a trial, picked up our skirts, and went down the stairs. At the bottom stretched a long corridor lined with candles that flickered in the cold, damp air. Shadows danced along the black stone walls and, from a distance, my supernatural hearing picked up the hushed voices of men murmuring in secret conversations. Daphne adjusted her domino mask—mere formalities since we would be the only two women in attendance and our identities within the Order were well known—and we approached the large oak door at the end of the corridor.
I knocked three times and a liveried servant opened the door, bowing low before us. I’d been inside only twice before, mainly because I was used to conducting business through coded messages sent via other agents. The room was impressive, if a bit creepy. Massive bookshelves lined the walls filled with years of filed intelligence reports. Large annotated maps of France hung like tapestries in between. Daphne adored the atmospheric chamber, but I felt like a bug in a bell jar surrounded by the twenty or so men from varied backgrounds and classes. Tonight, especially, they studied me with an intensity that put my previous discomfort to shame.
No sooner had we set foot inside the room than a masked gentleman approached me and smiled obsequiously.
“Mes agents,” he purred. “Thank you for coming this evening. I think we have quite a bit to discuss, so let’s take our seats and begin, shall we?”
Each person made their way to the large oval table in the center of the room. Two servants offered everyone glasses of wine or cognac, but they paused upon reaching Daphne and me. We were offered tea or sherry. I snorted in derision.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll take cognac, as well. Lord knows I’m going to need it tonight,” I grumbled.
The man to my left chuckled and winked at me from beneath his mask.Is that the Duke of Nevers?The servant filled our glasses and melted into the background.
“Before we begin with the morephysicalaspect of tonight’s meeting,” the first man said, “we wanted to hear your version of the events leading up to the…ehm…infection.”
“You’ve no doubt read my statement, as well as those from the duchess and the emissary,” I replied.
“Yes,” said another man. “But we’d prefer to hear it from you, if you don’t mind. Refresh our collective memories.”
I narrowed my eyes in annoyance but smiled as sweetly as I could.
“Of course, gentlemen. I trust I don’t need to remind youwhywe issued the order for theMarquis de Sade, and since the beginning of the evening passed exactly as planned, I won’t bore you with those details. I’ll start, shall we say, with the moment when I led him into the garden for the fatal faux tryst. Perhaps the drugs were not as strong as we thought, or perhaps he had a much stronger constitution than I expected,” I lied. “He came quietly enough, but he became rather overzealous in his attentions. He certainly would have discovered my identity in his feeble attempt to ravish me, had not a passing solder spied us through the garden gates at the back of Versailles. Thank God forLieutenant Antoine de Vaux! I was knocked unconscious in the fray and the gentleman in question picked me up and took me to a nearby coaching inn to recover. It was there that I learned of the bounty on his head and that he was pursued by thebêtes de sang—a heretofore unheard of and thoroughly illegal group of private vampire soldiers under the command ofGénéral de Vaux.”
“Preposterous,” came a disbelieving voice from the back. I glared but continued.
“Thebêtescaught up with us on the road to Gévaudan—the town we headed for to try and escape their vigilante justice. During our confrontation outside the town, we were attacked by the beast that had presumably terrorized Gévaudan, and I was injured in the process. Dr. Van Helsing was summoned to see to my care, and I made my way home after that.”
Daphne and I had discussed our version of events in detail, and we agreed to omit certain parts of the story unless absolutely necessary.Stay as close to the truth as possible,she’d said.That will make the lies much more convincing.As I looked around at the masked men seated around the table, most of them were nodding, thoughtful. In agreement that my story—while bizarre and fantastic—was at least plausible.
