Page 53 of The Nephilim's Finesse

I was stationed across the street from a grand residence in the most affluent of London's boroughs, keeping a close eye on the servants who were entering and exiting. Inside the stately abode, an ancient wealthy lady lived in seclusion. I had schemed to gain an audience with her to coerce her into bequeathing her estate to me, for she had no known living relations. The sky began to dim as stormy clouds swirled overhead; soon, I would have to take refuge from the coming rain. My silk gown of pale green in colour with its high bodice slightly below the bust was matched by my ornate bonnet, though I had little care for getting wet. After a few more minutes of surveying my surroundings, I would leave. But before I could move, the door opened and out stepped the butler—his hands tucked neatly behind his back, spine unbendingly erect. His eyes bore into mine as he marched towards me, and I felt trepidation at being so close to him without committing any impropriety. And yet, I could not slip away unnoticed if I tried. After all, I had done nought wrong simply standing here. The butler came closer and gave a light bow.

“Miss, the Lady Greenwood requests your presence for tea. Would you kindly follow me?”

“‘Tis a misunderstanding. I was expecting my companion.” I gestured to another house.

The butler didn't move an inch. “No doubt, miss, yet Her Ladyship has asked that you join her.”

He extended his arm in an invitation, and I stepped forward into the house. I lifted my chin and followed him into the grand hall. The footman guided me to the drawing room, stopping before we entered.

"Pray forgive me, miss. How shall I announce you?"

My mind raced quickly. "Victoria Anderson."

"Very good." He opened the door and bowed. "My Lady Greenwood, Miss Anderson waits on your pleasure."

He inclined his head slightly, indicating the room beyond. I stepped in and beheld a space of great opulence. The windows were draped with fine curtains, boasting adornments of gold scrolling around each one. They let in plenty of natural light, although it rained outside. The walls were painted pristine cream, adorned with candle sconces and an oil painting of a distinguished gentleman above the fireplace mantel. The floors were laid of polished hardwood, covered by a generous azure rug on which two chaise longues faced each other, along with armchairs upholstered in sumptuous light blue velvet. Vases brimming with fragrant flowers had been scattered about the chamber, perfuming the air. A grandiose grandfather clock stood in one corner.

In one of the chaise longues, the dowager sat upright in a demure and modest black silken gown, trimmed with a high neckline and long sleeves. Her aged skin wrinkled to her graceful movements, and her snow-white hair was styled in an elegant manner with a few ringlets curling about her temples. She held an ivory fan which tremored lightly in her hands, but I didn't believe it to be from nerves, but rather from years spent living.

"Do sit down, my child," she instructed, her voice emphasising her resplendent bearing. Her commanding presence made no room for argument, and so I complied, arching a single eyebrow at her presumptuousness, given that I was at least one hundred and twenty years her senior. She stared pointedly at the chaise longue opposite her until I took my seat, adjusting the folds of my pale green day dress as I rested my posterior upon the cushion.

"I would offer you tea," she said as she opened the fan before her face carefully, "however, I am aware that your kind is not fond of such refreshment."

"Pray forgive me, Your Ladyship, but I'm afraid I don't understand."

She waved away my inquiry with a delicate gesture. “Let us dispense with the pretence, shall we? I have encountered those of your kind before and am aware of your capabilities.” Her eyes bore into me as she waited for me to nod in comprehension. “I propose an offer that you can scarcely refuse. I am aware that your primary intention is my money—whose isn't? But I shall introduce you to the aristocrats as my niece from the colonies, and if it pleases us to spend some time together, I shall name you my single heiress. The prospect alone should attract many suitors, and you could easily find yourself a husband of fortune.”

“What recompense do you demand?”

“Pleasure.”

I knit my brows in consternation. Why should I be the one to furnish her with delight?

“Your kinsman had the ability to bring me to rapturous heights by biting me during...you understand.” She sighed pensively. "I am no longer a young woman, yet I would like to experience such pleasure once more, nay, even much more." Her face became wistful. "You gain sustenance, and I acquire pleasure. Shall we come to an understanding?"

She hadn't a doubt she would be successful, and somehow she emanated it.

"I shall have a chamber made ready for you. You may retrieve your items tomorrow and bring them here. Are we agreed upon this bargain?"

I gave an affirmative bow. This was even better than I had predicted.

16 Raph

As I entered the dimly lit exhibition hall, the thick scent of body odour and stale pizza assaulted my senses. I grimaced, wishing I could be anywhere else but here. But Azariel had insisted I take a break from guarding Victorija, and my friends had dragged me along to this geek festival.

Azariel lay her hand on my arm, her amber eyes glinting with mirth under the neon lights. "Loosen up, Raph. We're here to have fun." She was dressed as Chun-Li from Street Fighter, complete with a blue mandarin gown and spiked bracelets.

I growled, impersonating the brooding Batman perfectly, all in black with the iconic cowl. "I still don't see why—"

"Because you work too hard," John interrupted, giving me a lopsided grin. He had dressed up as Link from The Legend of Zelda in a green tunic and a Master Sword made from foam and plastic.

Andrew imitated some video game character from Final Fantasy, wearing improbable spiked armour and carrying a massive foam broadsword. Ever the trickster, Mike had come as the Joker, his hair dyed a garish green and his face painted with a grotesque smile. Appropriately, Charlie, his girlfriend, was dressed up as Harley Quinn.

She gave me an encouraging smile. "One evening off won't hurt, Raph. You need to relax."

I glanced around at my friends and relented. It was useless to argue with them. "Fine. One evening. But at the first sign of trouble, we're leaving."

"Deal!" Azariel whooped, looping her arm through Andrew’s. "Now, what should we do first? Play some games? Get food? Check out the costumes?"

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