As unnatural as the bloodsuckers may be and foreign to the very nature of everyday human life, and therefore as unnatural and foreign to everyday life as hunting them might be by extension–I am fairly certain neither of us would disagree that the whole affair is inherently more within her sphere of influence than mine. That is. Er. How exactly does one put this? Bloodsuckers and their hunters generally operate in the poorer parts of the city than not. Although the whole Fierul affair has been cause for reconsideration on that front. (It is worrisome that we have not yet found the head of that particular brood. It may have been just the one, just Fierul. But Tais doubts it. And I trust her instincts. Therefore, worrisome.)
Anyway, it has certainly been the case that more of Tais's associates have been aware of London's supernatural problem than have any of mine. Perhaps it is naïve of me to envy the ease with which they share information amongst themselves. Surely politics and ulterior motives must exist within this facet of society as well; I am not so foolish as to believe otherwise. But they also look after their own, with a sense of cameraderie you would be hard-pressed to find in the upper echelons.
The events of this past week perfectly illustrate my point, and were what I was attempting to lead up to in my musings. It is not often that Tais and I encounter other beings of an entirely human persuasion during our nightly outings. When we do, it is usually a poor femme galante or working man, judged to be easy pickings even by undead predators. If they are conscious and able to walk, they take their leave with profuse gratitude and promises to be henceforth on their guard. If they are in need of aid, we escort or otherwise convey them to Doctor Auerbach's doorstep after we've cleaned up. Twice, or at least twice since I began accompanying Tais on her patrols, we've come upon the scene too late. One of those times had been especially horrible as the victim that night had been a child of no more than five years. That had been a dreadful night as the circumstances made it necessary for us to stake the child's body as well, lest it too rise from its eternal slumber. Seeing my shaking hands, Tais offered to perform the grisly deed herself, but I insisted. My assistance was perhaps not strictly necessary, but I would like to think it was of some comfort to Tais that I was there beside her.
Again, I digress. What I meant to convey was the rarity of other living souls on these outings. After all, whereas discovering another of their hiding places, or nests as Tais is fond of calling them, is the product of methodical research and deduction, happening upon one of these unholy beasts in the process of feeding is a product of mere chance. And then, of course, rarer still that we should happen upon a face familiar to me.
But on this occasion, this is exactly what happened. Luck was what led us to have walked down Richmond Street that night. Luck, I call it, though really it was luck only for the would-have-been victim. Perhaps it is sinful of me to write this, although I do not think it any moreso than keeping it imagined but left unsaid, but I do think I would have preferred to have met him two nights later on the wrong side of my stake.
It was Boddington because, of course, it would have to be him and not someone more deserving of rescue. When it began, there was no indication as to the trouble that would follow. I saw the beast first (!), we dispatched it with no difficulty, Tais left it to me this time to perform the preliminary disguising of the killing blow and removal of identifying effects since I apparently have progressed to this stage of my training where I can put lessons into practice. I was determined to perform my given task perfectly and so paid the two of them no mind as she checked on the intended victim. That is, until a voice that did not belong to Tais called my name with incredulity.
I looked up and it took me several moments to recall the name of the man now tottering towards me. Martin Boddington. We had met a few times at various gatherings and he had thoroughly failed to impress. I had thought him nice enough at the time, if awfully dull. I was to rapidly revise this opinion that night.
My first instinct was to deny. The light from the streetlamps cast misleading shadows upon my face, I was certainly wearing nothing that resembled the frocks he would have seen me in, there was no reason a proper lady like me would be out on Maida Hill at this time of night. My hesitance was my undoing. He stepped forward, eyes fixed on my face. "My God, Miss Grey, it is you."
At that point, the only thing I feared was awkwardness. More fool I. "Shall we agree not to speak of this again?"
"My God," he repeated, and a wave of remembered exasperation swept over me. Ah, yes. This was why Mr. Boddington was on my list of people to whom I preferred giving a wide berth where possible at social gatherings. Behind him, Tais was not even bothering to conceal her amusement. It was contemplation of her expression and the amount of teasing I was sure she would indulge in at my expense shortly that diverted me into remaining silent. But as I think back upon the moment now, I doubt that anything I could have said would not have been brushed aside–thrusted more likely, to make way for his machinations.
"Miss Grey, what in God's name are you doing out here, dressed like that?"
"Saving your blood from becoming wine du jour?" Tais responded helpfully from behind him. I winced but could not stop a smile from flickering across my face. Boddington did not answer her, although he closed his eyes in an expression of the most long-suffering patience. It was, I realised with distaste, the expression I have often seen upon the faces of my peers when speaking to servantry or to a vendor. An expression perhaps that I too have borne. It was an unpleasant sensation seeing it directed at one I considered [illegible crossed-out words] dear to me. It made me want to lay hands upon his person and forcibly turn him around so that he would be forced to acknowledge her. I should have done so. I did her a disservice.
When he did not acknowledge Tais having spoken, I responded instead with, "Put a little indelicately perhaps, but yes. That would appear to be what I've helped to do out here."
"Miss Grey, surely, you must realise the impropriety of your behavior. A lady of your standing cannot be seen like…this!" As if I might misunderstand exactly what sort of behavior a lady of my standing could not be seen engaging in, he gestured quite empathically at my person and our surroundings. "This is madness."
"Madness?" I parroted absently. I, at this point, had lost interest in the conversation. If he was going to stand there flapping his wings like a distraught mother-hen, there was nothing he was going to say that I had not heard–and ignored–with ever-increasing irritation throughout my life. My attention was swiftly returning to the matter of the corpse. "Are your next words perhaps that I am unwell? Bereft of my senses? It seems to me one can hardly dispose of these monsters without one's senses fully intact."
"Miss Grey, please," he pressed, as if I had not spoken. "This foolishness cannot continue. What," and here he paused, "would people say if they found out? What would your aunt say?"
It was then that I realised my error. This was not scandalised, reflexive chastisement as I had so swiftly and dismissively assumed. I raised my head and met his eyes, which watched me closely. No, not out of fear or desperation, but something deliberate. He wanted to ensure that we understood each other. This was not a question of whether people would find out. I had been mistaken in thinking that he was at all intrusively concerned about my well-being. Like a shark who has caught the scent of blood in the water, he was circling for his meal.
I caught a glimpse of Tais's face as these thoughts flew through my mind. She was still smiling, but the edges of that smile were now drooping in uncertainty, moreso the longer I hesitated. Boddington's words had not alarmed her as they had me but her perfect position from which to observe me and her gift for reading emotions from the slightest twitch of the hand were now alerting her to the existence of a problem, even if she did not know its precise nature. How could she? I do not mean to disparage her; the sharpness of her mind has awed me time and time again, and more than once have I wondered how high she could have soared in a kinder world, one that would have provided her with everything for which she might have hungered, how many accomplishments of hers might have been preserved in writing for all to read and marvel at. But I cannot imagine even the Tais of that world taking any interest in those skills necessary to navigate the cutthroat world of high society, not when there are a thousand more worthwhile endeavors to pursue. So she, I presume, did not hear the delicate steel sheathed within those seemingly innocent words, nor was she to divine the thoughts flying across the tapestry of my mind in a frenetic choreography, as a cold, calculating calm overtook me.
Observation the first: Boddington was approaching twenty-nine years of age.
Observation the second: I witnessed with my own eyes Miss Holmwood's rejection of him at Lady Bennet's party this past April. I also heard from Miss Audley that this was at least the second failed courting attempt he had made in recent months.
Possible conclusion: While it is not imperative that he marry before the age of thirty, it would certainly not reflect well upon him amongst his peers to reach that age unwed. Loathe as I was to entertain the notion, it seemed very possible his intent here was to procure a wife through use of coercion.
In support of this: It has been rumored that the Boddington estate is now nearly destitute despite attempts to keep up appearances. Certainly then, that would be one more pressing reason for Boddington to desire marriage to a wife with monetary assets attached.
A possible flaw: Surely though, finding a woman engaged in the least demure, ladylike, proper activity ought to be a deterrent against desiring her for a wife, especially for one such as Boddington.
Counterargument: The pressing need for a new source of financial means. The presumptuous belief that an unruly wife can be tamed.
To determine: Was this merely a bluff? If called, would he give up the pursuit or would he actually use the information at his disposal purely for the exacting of petty revenge?
The consequences of failure: I discovered with a distant sort of surprise that the thought of the shunning to which my peers would subject me barely affected me. As for Aunt Elinor, well, the loss of her affections, however many of those existed, was not the primary concern with her. As my legal guardian, there would be many ways with which she could prevent my nightly jaunts. And that, that was the rub, wasn't it?
My options then… What options had I? But perhaps, I was being unjustly paranoid.
Flicking my eyes back towards him, I asked in the lightest of tones, as if this were nothing but a discussion of the quality of the hors d'oeuvres, "Were they to hear of this incident, you mean?"
He looked physically pained, the swiftness of which itself was telling. "Miss Grey, I am merely concerned about your safety and decorum."
I sighed. "Perhaps you are right."
A pause. When I cast a glance in their direction, making sure not to linger overlong on either face, Tais and Boddington were both gawking at me. I nearly lost my composure when a glint of steel winked at me from Tais's hand, half-hidden behind her. Now, with time to reflect, I believe she had meant for me to see it as a subtle query prior to my sudden pronouncement, which, of course, she could not have foreseen. At the time, I managed to keep my face stoic as I prayed Tais might forgive me for the distress, however brief, I was about to cause her. Lifting my face as if to contemplate the night sky, I chose my words with care. "In my heart, I've known this was not to last. A youthful flight of fancy that I've been reluctant to abandon. But you are quite correct. One should not endanger one's future prospects with the consequences of such foolish gallivanting." I made a show of hesitation. "Aunt Elinor recently wrote to me inviting me to join her on the continent. I believe it wise for me to accept now. The change would do me good, if only in providing me time with which to reflect upon my proper station."
"But–!" That came from Boddington. I lowered my gaze once more. Tais–I was unable to stop myself from stealing a single glance at her but that alone proved to be nearly more than I could bear. The expression on her face–anguish does not begin to describe it. I will attempt to make amends somehow, though I am sure she will insist that any such efforts would be unnecessary. It was Boddington though that I needed to address and so I turned to him and blinked as though in confusion. "Mr. Boddington?"
"You…" A wiser man, a less desperate man would have perhaps cut his losses, however begrudgingly. But he drew himself up. "Miss Grey, this is unwise."
Forward. I could have drawn him out further but I was tiring of this encounter, not just the deception, but having to speak to him at all. I found myself wishing he would simply vanish from existence and cease being such a bother, a feeling endured by many of my peers, I'm certain. I raised an eyebrow, casting away the pretense of bewilderment. "How so, Mr. Boddington?"
He started. "I–that is. The hastiness of this decision…"
"I believe the decision to be one perfectly within my right and propriety to make? Accepting an invitation from my guardian?" I looked at Tais, no longer taking pains to conceal the action. Her eyes were sharp and alert once more. They met mine and I swallowed. It took me effort to remember my next words. "It would preserve my, how did you put it?"
"Safety and decorum," came a welcome voice. Not that I had needed the reminder, but a thrill went through me that she had chosen to participate in my little commedia.
Boddington actually jumped. He half-turned towards her before he caught himself and directed his attention back to me. He opened his mouth, but I did not give him time to speak. "Quite. So I cannot see why you would object. That is, unless my leaving for the continent for an indefinite amount of time would in some way inconvenience you, but I cannot imagine how that could be."
"I could just–" he said and then closed his mouth.
"Could just?" I asked sweetly. "Follow me to the continent? Extort me from afar? Why, but Mr. Boddington. How would you prove your outlandish claims?"
"I–" He opened his mouth and shut it rapidly. It was almost pitiful. I would have almost been inclined to feel sympathy for his circumstances that had driven him to such lengths, if I did not already suspect that his circumstances were largely created by his own folly and unwillingness to remedy them with anything that required more than minimal effort on his part.
Shifting my weight, I made sure I had his gaze as I bent and deliberately drove my knife into the chest of the body beside me. It was with pleasure that I observed him flinch. "I have not even asked that you express your gratitude to us, that we took the time to ensure that you were not rendered a drained corpse, slated for stabbing and beheading before you could rise as an unholy ghoul, desirous of nothing but the taste of human blood." As I spoke, Boddington's face grew paler and paler as if he were now losing that very blood that we had helped preserve.
"Let me make certain things very clear to you, Mr. Boddington." I finally turned my gaze away from him as I withdrew the knife before plunging it back into the vampire's body. "Even if you did manage to make someone believe your ludicrous tales, ostracisation means nothing to me. And, were I to cease these activities, what foothold would you have left? Surely," and I do not know if anyone recognised the significance of my phrasing but the ironic echo filled me at least with childish glee, "you must realise the tenuousness of your position."
I looked back at him and what I saw satisfied me. I had guessed correctly that this was an opportunity seized in desperation and not planned much further beyond the initial surge of carpe diem. A more vindictive soul might have grown enraged and sought to ruin me simply for the joy of it rather than to gain any real advantage. But having torn apart his scheme, I could see I had also taken the wind from his hastily hoisted sails and sent him adrift. Again, a spark of pity that I quashed.
"Your options are thus. Realise that you are fortunate to still be in possession of your life's blood and take this opportunity to walk away. Or antagonise those who have defended you against horrors of which you could never have dreamt, to no end other than making a nuisance of yourself, I might add, and risk these defenders being disinclined to aid you should you find yourself in the same unhappy situation some future evening."
"They do like to keep drinking from people who've already been bitten," Tais added helpfully. "And stealing each other's meals."
Boddington turned even paler, which was not something I would have previously thought possible. He looked very much like he wanted to speak, but it seemed words had abandoned him. I watched him a moment more before turning my attention back to the body. My handiwork looked sufficient for disguising the wound, enough that it would fool the casual observer. Tais could confirm my verdict once we were alone again. For now, the night was swiftly marching onwards and we had further work to do while Boddington dithered. Turning the blade in my hand so that the hilt was now tucked against the thumb, I lined it up against that pale throat before placing my free hand against the back of the blade and pressing all my weight down upon the knife. It was harder than Tais made it look. For a moment, I thought I had missed the space in between the vertebrae but then the ligament gave way and the blade sliced cleanly through the rest of the neck.
The sound of gagging came from off to the side. I wiped the blade clean with a rag and left the stained cloth next to the body. We still needed to clean up, and properly swathe and pack the body into a sack for retrieval by Tais's contacts.
But first. I looked at Boddington for what I hoped was the last time, at least for the time being. (I was not so foolish as to hope that I could avoid seeing him ever again in my lifetime.) In the lamplight, his face had taken on a distinctly unhealthy pallor.
"You're looking decidedly unwell, Mr. Boddington. Perhaps you might think about retiring for the night? If you need medical assistance, there's a skilled doctor to whom Tais and I could refer you."
"No–no, there's no need." He reached into his breast pocket with a shaking hand and, after some effort, managed to retrieve a handkerchief with which he mopped at his face. He looked uncertainly at me and I smiled blandly back, making no move to return to my work. He took an equally tentative step backwards, nearly colliding with Tais, but for her hopping backwards, out of reach. "I suppose I will bid you–you ladies a good night then."
"Good night, Mr. Boddington."
"Sweet dreams." Tais gave him a blindingly bright smile when he at last turned to look at her. The knife she had been holding had vanished, into one of her many pockets, no doubt, and she stood with hands clasped in front of her, an oddly demure look for her. She leaned forward and I was reminded that I really needed to invest time in learning to read lips as she said something to Boddington that was too soft for me to hear. Their positions were such that I could not see his face either, but whatever it was she said to him made his shoulders stiffen. He stayed frozen like that for a good few seconds before he took one unsteady step forward and then another until he was stumbling away from us at a fair pace. At several points, he looked as if he was about to turn around but thought better of it at the last moment. Proceeding with this strange gait, he finally, finally reached the corner where Victoria Place met Salisbury and, after another moment's hesitation, turned and disappeared from view.
"That was…" I hadn't heard her approach and the sudden sound of her voice so close made me start. I looked up at her as she knelt to join me. "Bloody brilliant, really," she finished. Her grin faded as she looked at me pensively. "Will he make trouble, do you think?"
I considered the question as I turned the knife in my hands this way and that. "It's possible, but I think unlikely. I'll be on my guard, listen for any warning signs in the coming days."
"Would you be terribly offended if I did my own checking too?" She leaned over the corpse, hair falling to hide her face as she inspected my handiwork.
My instinct was to bristle, defensive and testy as a feline. I swallowed around these emotions. "A little, but I know you mean well."
"I don't have to." She reached into one of her belt pouches and pulled out one of the sackcloth bags, shaking it to unfurl it. "I know you can handle it, but if you do want any help, I'm happy to. Just putting that out there. Nice job on all counts, by the way." She nodded at the body.
"I couldn't cut through the spine at first, and I thought I had missed and hit a vertebra."
"Nah. It just needs more weight than you'd think. Necks are tough things. 's'why the Frenchies had to go and invent a whole new machine just for cutting through them. And now you know how much pressure to use, having done it once now." Tais grinned fiercely. "And cor, weren't you just spectacular? He actually hashed in his mouth a little, I reckon."
"You'd think we'd have stronger stomachs, what with some of the food they serve at parties," I observed.
Tais's laugh rang out, startled and delighted. It was a nice sound to have singing in my ears as we worked–quickly in an attempt to make up for the time we had lost in dealing with Boddington. As we marked the bag so that it would be picked up by the right people in the morning, I murmured, "I would appreciate the help. If you're willing."
Tais paused for a long moment. Then she brought her free hand up to her temple and gave me the laziest salute I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. "Aye, aye, captain. Consider Mr. Busybodding tracked."
"I really doubt he's going to pose any further problems, but it's best to be forewarned in the unlikely event that he does."
"If he decides to be a complete arse, you mean."
"Is that what you called him?"
That threw her. "I–what–oh." She smiled. "No, that was me threatening…how shall I put this? The possibility of his carrying on the family line with progeny of his own?"
It was my turn for a laugh to be surprised out of me. I had never It was an experience foreign to me.
We took care of the clean-up quickly after that, without the distraction of gentry wasting any more of our precious time. The night was unremarkable after that. But obviously of note, for my own reference in the future, is the need to ascertain that the whole trouble with Boddington has been entirely resolved. I We will need to see. But I must confess myself more at ease knowing that I’m not the only one listening for the first whisperings of trouble. It does still perturb me, this fine distinction between allowing someone to do the work for me and allowing someone to work with me. But then, it does come down to my agency in choosing whether to permit it, does it not? I suppose it is my own damn fault that I have fallen into this well of philosophical entanglement. Perhaps, I shall inflict these musings upon Tais so that she may join me in these torments as well. It is only fitting as the predicament only came into existence because of her devilish magnanimity.
"A yell interrupts her. One of the gang members has decided to forsake all subtlety and herald his charging straight at us with a laughable battlecry."
"Tais shifts her stance slightly."
t "When you said 'help,' I was thinking more 'carrying stacks of books for you in a library and having the librarian glare at me.'
"We dodge. Or rather, I dodge. Tais, of course, does some sort of fancy jump into a somersault that ends with her kicking the man's legs out from under him. Just because she can."
mc "Would you believe me if I said that brawling with gang members wasn't exactly what I had planned on doing today?"
t "If you show me your calendar later, and I don't see it pencilled in, then maybe."
"Throughout all this, Tais is dodging some punches and countering others with fluid kicks like she's having the time of her life. Probably is, actually."
"Me? I'm managing not getting hit well enough. For someone who took lessons in embroidery and tea etiquette growing up, I think I'm doing pretty damn well actually with a month's worth of training."
"And I can't help but notice that even with the mad grin on her face, Tais never moves too far away. I never have to duck a blow from the same opponent twice."
"The realisation sparks both warmth in my chest and a flicker of irritation."
mc "You could let me get a punch in every so often."
#tais eyeroll
t "Then maybe actually start throwing some punches, Pr--Pumpkin."
"Piqued, I deliberately meet the next guy halfway and bring my knee up sharply. Crunch."
"And, of course, when I glance over, Tais has moved to follow me, bringing her latest hapless opponent with her. Almost as if by pure chance, if I didn't know better."
t "Not really a punch, but not bad, Lay Lay."
"Opponent de la seconde goes down in a crumpled heap. Their ranks are looking rather slim to nonexistent now."
!
"Spoken too soon. The next thing I know, a blow sends my head snapping to one side. Pain blossoms a moment later."
"I stumble back a few steps. Still on my feet though. More than I would have been able to manage a month ago. But it turns out there's no need."
"He's already on the ground, face pressed against the cobblestones. Tais has one hand fisted in his hair, a foot planted on his back."
"Her face is calm, serene even, but a far cry from the manic enjoyment from before. She shifts her weight and tugs his head up."
"She whispers something in his ear, far too quietly for me to hear, even from this close. It probably also doesn't help that my ears are still ringing."
"The man doesn't get a chance to reply before she slams his head down again, this time knocking him out cold."
#tais serious
t "You alright?"
"She rises and steps over the prone form to reach me. Fingers reaching up to frame my jaw, she turns my head and presses a thumb against my cheekbone. I hiss."
mc "I suppose you have the right to gloat now."
#tais hurt
"Hurt blooms on her face."
t "Look, I get it, alright?"
t "Your whole life, you've had people patting your head and telling you don't do the stuff you like doing because it's not ladylike. So now you just want to go all out and drink and fight and spit."
t "And I like that. I like you willing to get your hands dirty. It's dangerous, but you're your own woman and I do like having someone out there with me."
t "But you can't just start beating people up like you were born to do it. We've been doing this…what? A month? And the feeders are strong, but they don't know how to fight. These assholes have spent their whole lives beating people up."
#tais sigh
t "Look, what I'm saying is. You can do what you want. I'll still protect you, even if you hate that. But don't think I'm trying to prove that you can't fight or some bullshit like that."
t "I'm not going to point and laugh and tell you to go home to your sewing kit."
t "Keeping you unpunched doesn't mean I want you in a birdcage."
t "It's not the same thing."
t "So don't treat me like I'm the enemy."
mc "…"
mc "I know."
#tais surprise
mc "You're right."
mc "What I said was…unfair and you're right that it was…I'm reacting badly to the idea of being coddled when that's not what you were trying to do."
mc "And I do appreciate you keeping me from being punched in the face."
#tais wry
t "Kind of failed on that one."
mc "Punched more than once, anyway."
mc "Thank you for protecting me."
#tais blush
t "Well, you're very welcome."
mc "And I want to get to the point where one day, when we fight together, I can protect you too."
tais megablush
t "Well, don't get ahead of yourself. Anyway, let's not stick around for when these dumbasses wake up."
"I eye the unconscious bodies around us."
mc "Should we let a constable know?"
#tais wry
t "What, and have to explain to the copper how two defenseless ladies took down eight men?"
mc "We could tell him a mysterious masked vigilante appeared from the shadows to save us and then just as myseriously disappeared again."
t "After kissing us each senseless first."
mc "Obviously."
t "You know it's sad but I think he would actually believe that over the truth. But no. Not worth it really. They'd only stay in the nick a couple hours. And didn't we have a library to get to?"
mc "…"
#tais grin
t "You forgot about the library, didn't you."
mc "Can you blame me?"
t "What, you mean you don't get into street fights every day? You've been missing out."
"She turns and I follow. Stepping over the prone form in our way, I pause, looking down at him."
mc "Say, Tais."
#tais :?
mc "What did you tell him?"
t "Who?"
"I nod down at the man who had managed to land the only hit out of his entire gang. Something for him to write home about."
mc "You told him something before you knocked him out."
#tais thinking
t "Oh, right."
#tais shrug
t "Just a threat. Think twice before pulling shit like this again. Hell, if he even remembers it after waking up. Shall we, my lady?"
"The ridiculous deep bow she sweeps into as she proffers her hand takes any possible sting out of the gesture."
"It proves surprisingly difficult, even with my upbringing, to school my face and keep my eyes from rolling heavenwards. But I manage and instead place my hand as delicately and coyly as I have been taught in hers."
mc "Let's."
"We will not be able to proceed onto the main street in such a manner, where our stances will inevitably be mistaken for a token of some sort of scandalous affair."
"But we can and we do continue in our shared private jest as we make our way back through the alleys. I cannot speak for her, but I, at least, found myself taking pleasure in defying expectations in the light of day, even if still hidden from any eyes that may judge us."
