Lucina nodded. “I thought as much.” She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The dancing people stilled, then scampered into the trees like animals fleeing an approaching predator. Only one remained, a muscular man wearing a short tunic and a mask covered in what looked like cobwebs. He walked toward them, his bare feet barely sinking into the soft earth, until he stood beside Lucina.
Cordon fell to his knees and bowed his head. “My liege.”
The gesture of respect was unnecessary, as Cordon was older than both vampires, but he required their help. Therefore, he would show submission.
Lucina giggled. “Oh, Cordie. There’s no need for that. I am the Lord of the Hunt tonight. Gerald is merely my guard. Stand and speak your query.”
Luck was on his side. He stood and brushed the mud from his knees. “I require information. There is a man, Mr. Reginald Blaylock, who wears the sigil of the Wild Hunt.”
Kitty hissed in a breath. He reached for her ankle and squeezed, urging her to remain silent.
“Oh!” Lucina bounced on her heels. “That’s easy. I know Mr. Blaylock.”
“How?” Kitty asked before slapping a hand over her mouth.
Lucina stiffened. According to the rules of the hunt, she could have tackled Kitty from her horse and slit her throat forthe transgression. Nor would her sister have felt the slightest remorse for such an act.
“Lucina,” Cordon whispered. He didn’t want to fight her, but he wouldn’t allow any harm to come to Kitty. Losing her now, when he was so close to the end of his existence, was unthinkable.
Lucina crossed her arms. When she spoke again, her voice was much lower. “Only the petitioner may speak.”
Kitty’s scent soured, but she held her tongue.
“Was Mr. Blaylock part of the hunt?” Cordon asked.
Lucina scrunched her nose. “Yes, but we expelled him several months ago for breaking the rules. We don’t allow our members to petition for…” She glanced at Kitty. “Transformation.”
It was as he’d suspected. He bowed. “Thank you, sister. Please excuse our intrusion.” He straightened, and the clearing was empty, aside from the smoldering remains of the fire.
“Whatwasthat?” Kitty asked.
“I apologize for not warning you,” Cordon said as he put his trousers back on. “I thought it would be better for you to see for yourself.” He picked up his shirt and slid his arms through the holes. “I recognized the sigil on Mr. Blaylock’s pin, but it wasn’t until I awoke from my rest this evening that I remembered where I’d seen it.” He looped the long fabric of his cravat around his neck and began tying it. “Mr. Blaylock is a dangerous man.”
“Because he requestedtransformation,” she said. “What does that mean? What is the purpose of this group? Are you part of it, too?”
He picked up his suit jacket. “It means he is unsatisfied with his situation. This group exists to celebrate communion with nature.”
A lie, but close enough to the truth. The Wild Hunt trained familiars, those rare human servants employed by nests to rundaytime errands. But the hunt’s original purpose had been to determine which humans to turn into vampires.
“I have never been a member,” he continued. “I only know about it because my sister and my ma—mother were members.” That was close. He had nearly said ‘maker.’ He finished buttoning his jacket, then grabbed the reins of the mare and led her back through the bush. “We have to get your sister away from Mr. Blaylock.”
If the man convinced someone to turn him into a vampire, he would take his first victims from the people he knew well, including Miss Beatrice. The poor girl would be dead before she realized she was in trouble.
Kitty snorted. “I already knew that. The man is a criminal. The problem is that my sister is stubborn. I fear she won’t believe anything we tell her. It would be better to convincehimto cease courtingher.”
They exited the brush and returned to a gravel path. If Cordon did not intervene, Kitty would likely run off and attempt to solve the problem herself. The problem was, she had no idea what she would be facing.
“Stay away from Mr. Blaylock,” he said. “I will deal with him. He will not bother your family again.”
She exhaled a long breath. “Thank you.”
“Aye, what is that?” a distinctly male, and very drunk, voice called.
A group of four men loitered around a tall tree across the park, too far away to make out any details of their appearance, but their swagger and hats suggested they were sailors.
Kitty clasped her arms over her chest. “Cordon!”
He swung up in front of her in a smooth motion. “Hold on to me.”
