Page 49 of Wynter's Bite

“No,” Justus replied while fixing the man with an intent stare. “But you will help us all the same.”

Bethany expected the cobbler to slam the door in their faces, but instead his eyes glazed over and a bemused smile lifted his narrow lips. “Yes,” he said dully. “I will help you.”

With the same distracted air, he opened the door further and went inside. Justus followed behind, watching as the cobbler lit lanterns throughout the shop. When Bethany’s gaze lit on the plethora of shoes, a bittersweet wave engulfed her heart. How long had it been since she’d seen such simple, yet crucial items on display? How many years since she’d even thought of the shops she’d visited with her mother?

The cobbler cleared his throat. “Miss? If you’ll sit on the stool, I can measure your feet.”

To her disappointment, the fetching pair of black leather shoes were not in her size, but perhaps it was for the best, as the brown leather half boots she donned were far sturdier. She thanked the man profusely before she and Justus left the shop.

“That was so kind of him to give me shoes,” she said. “But I wonder why he decided to do so. He looked so odd when he said he’d help.”

“I didn’t give him a choice,” Justus said tightly. “I bent him to my will.”

She gasped. “You can do that?”

“Yes. It is how we are able to feed without people remembering,” he explained, his features wavering as if confessing to a sin. “Speaking of, it is time for us to have nourishment.”

They walked to a nearby inn, where Justus instead used his ability to make the proprietor believe they’d handed him money. A large plate of roast beef and potatoes was set before Bethany. The savory aroma rendered her oblivious to the rest of the world. She took her first bite and bit back a moan of pleasure. Years ago, she would have disdained inn fare, with it being so greasy and salty, but after years of bland porridge and dry toast, this meal tasted like it was served from the King’s table.

Alas, her stomach was so shrunken from not eating for so long that she could only finish half the meal. Justus took her dinner rolls, sliced them in half, and made cunning little sandwiches before wrapping them in the napkin and stowing them in his pack. He then beckoned a maid and ordered a bath for Bethany.

“I have to leave you for a few minutes,” he told her as the maid beckoned her up the stairs to a room.

Bethany understood. He still needed his meal. Yet that didn’t stop dread from crawling up her throat throughout the entire bath as she waited for him to return. Her senses remained rattled at being back in the world, amongst strangers, and the clamorous noise of humanity drifting up from the rooms below. Though she had to admit, the steaming water felt heavenly and being clean after a night in a dusty crypt was pure bliss.

Just as she was dreading donning her filthy shift, a soft knock sounded on the door. The maid pushed her behind a privacy screen before answering. Bethany’s shoulders relaxed as she heard Justus’s voice. He’d returned to her safely after all.

The maid murmured something before closing the door. “His Nibs brought you clean clothing. He should have thought of that before your bath, but you know how men are.”

Bethany bit back a chuckle. He couldn’t have done so because she’d had no clean clothes. She wondered where he’d gotten them even as gratitude welled in her being as she beheld the soft wool stockings, linen chemise, navy cotton dress, and a rich dark green cloak. In her old life, such garments were far from elegant, but now she thought them luxurious in their usefulness.

She rejoined Justus in the hall as the maid tried to prod them to stay the night. The lush bed in the room Bethany bathed in beckoned her like a song. But she knew that Justus wouldn’t be safe in such a room. Not to mention the fact that they weren’t married... unless he’d told the innkeeper otherwise. From the lack of censure she’d received, he must have.

Bethany closed her eyes as she remembered Justus’s declaration that he still intended to wed her... and her response of being uncertain. She imagined being his wife in truth, a warm flush suffusing her at the thought of being joined with him before cold uncertainty doused the fantasy. They had no home to build together, and he could not make her a vampire... not yet.

Furthermore, she did not know if she was ready to become a vampire when she was only now relearning how to be a normal person.

Her lips quirked upwards in a sardonic smile. She never would be normal.

But perhaps that was all right. Hand on Justus’s arm, she walked with him outside of the inn and back into the unknown.

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