Page 19 of Until the Heart Stops
Fighting back a smile and hoping they didn’t hear the way my heart skipped a beat, I tugged my silver knife from the inside of my corset to break the seal.
My darling Mademoiselle Searah,
I quite like the idea of you growing used to having gifts lavished upon you. To your friend’s comment about “small acts of kindness”—I must admit, it is the first time anyone has described anything about me as small. Perhaps better would be “large acts of kindness.” I would also accept “massive” or even “mind-altering.”
Yet regardless of the size of my kindness, it is truly that. I wish nothing but your happiness and contentment, Mademoiselle, as much as I hope that one day I might find myself worthy of basking within your light. It has been almost a millennium since I last saw the sun, but one moment of seeing your face and I find I do not miss its shine any more.
Tell me what you need, my darling. How else can I lessen your burden and help that light shine?
Sincerely,
Your ever faithful servant
A small chuckle slipped through my lips as I read, and I pressed my knuckles to my mouth to stifle it. And yet as I read, an ache spread across my heart I did not expect. Perhaps it was his humor or the heartfelt way in which he spoke, but I thought I couldfeelhis longing suffused into the pages. Longing and something else, like a true desire for good.
That ache only made me more confused and desperate for the charade to end. Surely he would reveal himself? I could not imagine a circumstance in which such a kind and generous male would not be worthy of my time.
Henry was watching me as I looked up, a soft smile on his face. He touched his knuckle beneath my chin. “An answer, perhaps, for our mutual friend?”
Rolling my lips together, I nodded and pulled a pieceof parchment from the inside of my ledger. It did not take me long at all to craft a reply.
Sir,
Your letter has left me in both high spirits and heartache.
I beg of you, tell me who you are and why we communicate in this strange manner. You have asked me what I need, and it is this: I must know of whom I spend my time thinking, whose feet I lay my gratitude before.
And most importantly of all, am I in danger from you? Because even with these handful of correspondences I fear I am. I fear, as you put it, the flame of hope has sparked inside my chest from each of your letters and these last few nights without a word I have been strangely bereft. What can I do to show my gratitude?
Yours,
Mlle Lilith Searah
I blew on the ink so it could dry before rolling it into a scroll and sealing it with my blood. Henry’s eyes sparkled as I passed it to him, eyeing the blood seal on the parchment. “You will drive him mad.”
“He needs a little madness.” The large vampire behind him chuckled.
Henry stepped to the side, gesturing to the male. “Ah, yes. Allow me to introduce you to my eldest brother, Mateo Auguste.”
I slid from my stool so I could properly greet him, pressing three fingers to my lips. “It’s a pleasure, Lord Auguste.”
Mateo, too, gave a theatrical shiver as Henry had, guiding me to my feet before bowing over my hand tobrush his lips across the back of my palm. “Lord Auguste is our maker, Mademoiselle, Mateo suits me just fine.”
I paused for a moment, my attention slipping back to Callum for a beat before settling once more on his brother.
“Lilith suits me as well, Mateo,” I answered carefully. “And that goes for you as well, Henry.”
I did not need to see the blond vampire to feel the tension that rolled off him in waves or hear the groan of his silver walking stick as he clenched his fist when Mateo repeated my name as if we were old friends.
The dark brown of Mateo’s cheeks appeared to glow while he guided me back to my stool. There was a sadness, however, lingering in the corners of his eyes—as if he tried very hard to push away a crushing grief. “I see now where the fascination began.”
A pair of vampires nearby stopped to gape at my company, their eyes sliding between the three immortals. Unease prickled beneath my skin at their attention, but before I could comment on it, the two males approached with subservient bows.
“Lords Auguste,” the first male greeted. “It is an honor to see all of you here.”
Henry and Mateo turned to reply to the males, but Callum’s attention remained fixed on me. I could not understand his expression, as if an unreachable emotion was buried beneath layers of ice. Unbidden came the memory of his hand on my throat, the brush of his thumb across my jaw. The mere remembrance of his touch burned like a fire in my belly until I pressed my thighs together to abate the ache.
“If it is a reputable den you are looking for, my lords, we would be happy?—”
