“A letter? When?”
“This very night. Not too long ago. It was most strange. The gentleman himself delivered it.”
“The gentleman?”
“Yes, I would say so. He wore a fine suit, and he was most striking-looking. His eyes were…well, gold in color.”
“Did he give his name?”
“Indeed. He called himself Dimitri.”
The blood in Simon’s veins grew icy. He snatched the envelope from the tray and tore it open. As soon as he did, a silver bullet dropped into his hand. He stared at it before turning to the letter.
Only a duel can set her free.
Midnight at Highgate Cemetery.
You will require a silver bullet.
Come if you dare. Kill me if you can.
Simon lowered the letter with a trembling hand. Was this some sort of a trick?
“Is something the matter, my lord?” James asked, glancing at the bullet.
“Do you believe in the supernatural?” Simon asked. He needed validation that this wasn’t reality. That ghosts and vampires didn’t exist, no matter what sensationalist nonsense the papers printed about sightings in Highgate Cemetery.People have become obsessed with the supernatural of late. It is utter rubbish, perpetrated by fraudsters.
“Do you mean ghosts, my lord?” James said. “I know a man who attended a séance once, and he swears he spoke to his dead wife.”
“What about vampires?” Simon asked.
James hesitated and then said, “I never have, my lord. But tonight, if I didn’t know any better, I believe I may have seen one with my own eyes.”
Recalling the red-eyed daemon he’d seen shouting in the street earlier that night, Simon shuddered. Then, something caught his attention. The painting delivered earlier by Lady Waterford, which he’d ordered put away, now hung on the wall. Only, there was something different about it. Simon turned to James. “Did you put this up?”
“No, my lord.” James paled.
Simon tightened his fist around the silver bullet and stepped forward to inspect the painting. And then he saw that the woman he was kneeling over in the picture was not Miss Waterford but Miss Spencer. And that wasn’t all. Behind him, peering over hisshoulder at the prostrate young woman, was a hooded figure with golden eyes and pointed fangs, who looked as malevolent as Hades himself.
“That’s him,” James said in a trembling voice as he pointed with his shaking index finger. “That’s the gentleman who delivered the letter.”
*
Mildred grew frustratedas she tried once again to penetrate the stone walls of Dimitri’s vault and failed.
“This is ridiculous. I’m a ghost!” she cried, zooming backward to build momentum and try again.
“It’s an ancient protection, millions of years old. You’ll never be able to penetrate its walls,” Alexi said. “It’s best you leave.”
“We are not going anywhere without our niece,” Agnes said. “Sophie, if you can hear us,” she called, “we are right here. We will never abandon you.”
“She can’t hear you,” Alexi said. “The stone is protected by—”
“Oh, do be quiet, Alexi!” Mildred snapped as she floated to the door of the vault and inspected it.
“You’ll never be able to open—” Alexi began when something caught Mildred’s eye. There was a notice pinned to Dimitri’s door.
“Hush!” she said, scanning the notice as she hovered in front of the vault. “It says here that there’s going to be a duel at midnight.”
