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Story: The Gloaming

I gave her a questioning look.

“Hospitalising him would lead to awkward questions about his injuries,” she explained. “I would recommend painkillers, anti-inflammatories, plenty of fluids, and to keep the wound clean and dry. I cannot smell any infection, but I will return tomorrow to confirm, once he has had time to rest. If so, he may require antibiotics.”

Where the hell was she getting all this from? Who was this woman?

My thoughts must have shown on my face, because she gave a small laugh that was more empathetic than cruel.

“Necessity has made me quite well versed in human medicine,” she said, her tone warming slightly as if this were a normal conversation. “I like to help where I can.”

I nodded, momentarily speechless. The absolute insanity of the situation wasn’t lost on me – standing in my kitchen, taking medical advice from a damn vampire. Someone who, according to everything I’d ever known, shouldn’t give the slightest shit about human life. And yet here she was, bloodstained hands and all, speaking with the confidence of a doctor about how to help Tom. Part of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. The other part was just plain grateful.

“Thank you, Isabel.” I glanced at Tom’s sleeping form. “Nicholas—”

“You must deal with him, Erin,” she said, shaking her head. “What has transpired tonight is just another example of why. This was meant to convey intent, leaving your friend on the doorstep in such a state. We cannot turn a blind eye to suchdeeds.” Her voice returned to its previous formal tone as she spoke.

“I don’t know if I could deal with him if I tried,” I edged. “You’re the oldest of your kind I’ve ever come across, and…” I chuckled quietly, not wanting to admit the truth. “I didn’t see you move back there; you were so fast. I never knew vamps could be as strong as you.”

Isabel leaned back on the kitchen counter. “We tend to strengthen the longer we live,” she agreed. “But you surely know this? You are avânator.” She said it as though that settled the matter, the strange term she’d used once before.

“How could I have known?” I asked. “Tom and Jonathan and I… we’ve done a lot, but finding out the truth when the world loves its fiction? No chance.”

She considered my words. “There are things I can share that may help – with Nicholas,” she added.

I gaped at her. It couldn’t have escaped her notice that I could use any information she gave me against her, too.

“You have a pulse,” I stated, thinking of Nicholas. My fingers unconsciously found my throat.

“Yes,” she said, looking at me curiously. “I recall the shock of learning I still lived. The elder who changed me had failed to share that detail.” She paused, collecting herself. “Of course, biologically speaking, we can pass as dead – but our hearts pump blood in the same way that yours does. Only much more slowly.”

I took a moment to absorb this, watching as she absently traced the veins in her wrist. “What about healing?”

“We will always heal faster with fresh blood in our system.It functions a little like adrenaline, for us. Speeding our heart rates and almost every other process. Though I’ve yet to see evidence that we age.”

“Sunlight?”

A blush crept high onto her cheekbones, only enhancing her beauty. “One I have been unwilling to fully test. For a youngling, it would be instantly fatal, but as I’m sure you remember, I can work within the shade when necessary.”

“And you came in here without an invitation?”

“I would have hoped you were not taken in by that particular myth,” Isabel smiled, but it faded as she considered it. “Nicholas could come here; do you understand?” she asked quietly.

A thrill went through me at the idea. I tamped it down furiously. I needed time to think about the conclusions I’d reached tonight – that became more certain each time I went over them. Isabel had as much as said she wanted me to kill Nicholas, and for reasons I didn’t yet understand, she wasn’t able or willing to herself. I was grateful for that, but until I had enough information to persuade her she was wrong, I needed her to think I was willing to work with her.

How can so much change in an hour, eh?

“I do,” I said finally. “Once Tom’s up to being moved, we’ll leave. I’ll find somewhere safer for us.”

Isabel nodded, clearly already miles ahead of me. “Would you be able to come to the manor tomorrow evening – or I should say, tonight?” She checked a tiny, expensive-looking wristwatch. “Tom should be safe for a few hours, and it wouldallow us to discuss Nicholas’s weaknesses further. I would like to do what I can to help, but I know I am asking a lot of you.”

“Okay.” I was uncertain how else to respond.

Isabel scrutinised me, a crease appearing between her brows. “Can I trust you, Erin?”

I glanced at Tom in the other room, at the blood under Isabel’s fingernails. The weight of centuries hung in the air between us – her long memory of Nicholas, my fresh loss. Trust felt like a currency neither of us could afford.

“We’ll see.”

14: The Doppelgänger