Page 15 of Vampire so Virtuous

Antoine gritted his teeth as he recalled the presentation of his own ‘gift.’

Five – Antoine

Nantes, France, 1747.

The black coach clattered down the cobbled streets, pulled by four horses, their harnesses as dark as their coats. The driver wore black, and even the emblem on the door was embossed in the same shade, barely visible unless one knew to look.

A coach the locals were keen to avoid.

Antoine leaned against the wall of the chandlery, watching it approach. His ship had docked late that afternoon, and most of the crew had already scattered to taverns and brothels. The captain was in the shop, bartering for tar. They’d cut it fine; dusk had already fallen, and from the sound of the exchange behind him, the shopkeeper was more interested in closing up than striking a deal. Perhaps the captain could use that to his advantage, if he were shrewd.

The coach barreled toward the harbor, its owner too important to slow for anyone else on the street. Antoine shook his head. The rich were the same the world over: selfish, self-centered, blind to those beneath them.

Two street scamps, a boy and a girl, darted from an alley, their focus on the boulangerie across the way, where a man was handing out the day’s stale leftovers to other children. Too young and hungry to mind their surroundings, they had no reason to expect anything but pedestrians.

Antoine stepped forward in alarm. The coach was coming fast.

“Arrêtez-vous!” he yelled, waving his arm at the driver.

The urchins startled, looking first at him, then at the thundering horses bearing down upon them. The girl screamed. The boy froze.

Antoine barely had time. He lunged, grabbing the girl around the waist and cuffing the boy hard on the shoulder, shoving him clear. The boy stumbled, hitting the wall. Antoine spun, his body hunching protectively around the girl.

The first horse struck his back as it veered past.

He staggered, almost dropping the girl, but he’d taken the blow and she had not. The horse shied, jerking the coach sideways. The driver cursed,yanking hard on the reins. The narrow street left no room for error. By sheer luck, the horses avoided crashing into the opposite wall.

The boulangerie’s display wasn’t so fortunate. Loaves tumbled across the cobbles as the baker yanked his young customers inside, sparing them the same fate.

The coach came to an ungainly stop, angled across the street, the horses standing eerily still after the chaos. The driver was almost level with Antoine. “Imbécile!” he shouted, humiliation and anger coloring his voice as he raised his whip.

Antoine hissed in pain as the first blow struck his back. He lowered the girl, shielding her with his body as the whip lashed again. He gritted his teeth, but now his hands were free. As the whip came down once more, he turned and caught it, the leather biting into his wrist. But it was worth it to wrench it from the hapless driver’s hand.

Antoine threw the whip into the gutter, glaring at the man as he straightened, his back throbbing from the lashes—and the blow from the horse’s shoulder.

The tableau held. The driver sat frozen in surprise, Antoine’s stare seething, until a lady’s voice came from within the coach. He didn’t catch the muffled words.

“Un idiot nous a fait arrêter la calèche, madame,” the driver sneered.

Antoine was about to reply in kind, but the door of the coach swung open, and the words died on his tongue. The woman who disembarked was the most beautiful he had ever seen: the perfect symmetry of her delicate features, the paleness of her skin contrasting with the darkness of her carefully coiffed hair, the lavishness of her couture.

She paused, taking in the scene, her eyes flicking from the whip in the gutter, to him as he angrily glared back. Her lips curled in amusement, before she looked past him to the cowering girl, tears streaking the child’s face. She lingered on the boy, dazed and holding his head, a trickle of blood running crimson between his fingers. Then her gaze returned to Antoine.

“Un homme si vertueux.” She gave a smile that Antoine would never forget, full of allure, promise, and seduction. She held it as she approached him, much like a cat might approach a cornered mouse. But Antoine was no mouse. He stood tall.

Virtuous, she had called him—but it had sounded like an insult. He had acted only to save the children, which would have been unnecessary if her driver had shown even a modicum of care.

“Votre cocher est irresponsable, madame.”

She kept coming, ignoring his accusation, until she was almost upon him. It was scandalous for a woman to approach a man in such a manner, and he stiffened as she raised one gloved hand, delicately running her fingertips down the opening of his shirt, then pulling the collar away from his neck.

He bristled, but didn’t pull away. “Madame! Un peu de décorum, s’il vous plait!”

“Là là,” she said dismissively, then circled him, not caring that her fine shoes were soon covered in the filth of the street, her dress swishing against his legs as she inspected him. Strangely, the coach driver was grinning, and Antoine returned his smug look with a stoic expression. The entire encounter had been too brief for onlookers to gather. The baker had not yet re-emerged from his shop, wisely keeping the other street urchins inside. His captain was still haggling with the chandler, their voices muffled, and Antoine was only vaguely aware the street had grown unnervingly quiet, as if the locals were actively avoiding involvement.

Only the girl Antoine had saved stood watching, transfixed, while her brother, holding his bleeding head, remained stunned and unseeing beside her. No one but the driver paid attention as the lady walked behind Antoine, trailing her fingertips across his shirt where the whip had cut the material. He tensed at her touch, wincing as he became aware of the sticky blood on his skin. Her hand moved to the side of his neck, her body pressing against his.

Such forwardness, such impropriety, was shocking. He was stunned—and it was all she needed. Her lips brushed his neck, and then there was pain. She had bitten him!