AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She tilted her head, resting her chin on her hand. She eyed me, her gray eyes twinkling with some mischievous glee. “You’ve never asked why I ask for dolls and toys and frilly dresses.”
I cleared my throat and answered shakily, “I figure that’s your business.”
“You’re not wrong,” she said, glancing down at the framed portrait. “You have a sister, yes? Gladiola. How old is she now?”
“Seventeen going on forty,” I muttered, grateful to have something to think about besides the numerous ways I could kill Cal and get away with it. The sideways ass-staking was definitely in the lead.
She snorted. “You have no idea how apt that description can be. I have a sister, too. Georgina. I was nine years older.”
My brows rose. Did she say “have”? I peered at the gray-eyed little girl in the portrait but decided it was in my best interest not to comment.
Ophelia continued, “Our parents brought us over on one of the crossings just after the Mayflower. It was miserable. Hot, cramped, and smelling to high heaven. At night, I would go aboveboard just to get a breath of fresh air while everybody else was asleep. And I found that there was a vampire stowed away on the ship, feeding on rats and trying to stay under the radar. He didn’t threaten me or try to bite. I think he was just lonely.”
I sat stock-still, afraid that Ophelia would realize how much she was sharing with me. This marked two very old vampires spilling their guts to me in as many days. Clearly, I had some sort of invisible sign on my forehead that said, “Deposit origin story here.”
“When we landed, I expected him to forget me, but he stayed near and watched. I think he knew how hard life would be in Massachusetts. There was rarely enough food. We had to work constantly just to scratch out the barest existence. He turned me before I could die of what was probably the flu.
“I rose just in time to find that Georgie had taken ill. I couldn’t stand the idea of letting her be buried in an unmarked grave. My friend and sire, Joseph, ordered me not to turn her, but she was my sister. I broke with my sire and turned Georgie. He had no choice but to take me before what served as the Council in those days. They decided that they would let Georgie live but that I would be responsible for her for the rest of my days.”
“And Georgie?” I asked. “I take it she’s the proud recipient of frilly dresses and antique dolls?”
“She has beautiful taste,” Ophelia said. She leaned forward on her elbows, staring at me. “It’s difficult being the older sister sometimes. Making the sacrifices we have made to make sure that our younger sisters survive, if not thrive. That survival may not come in the form we would hope, but we do the best we can.”
Cryptic, thy name is Ophelia.
In the face of my blank stare, she frowned, the classic frustration line forming between her downy black brows. She cleared her throat and tried a different tack. “I’ve always appreciated your discretion when it comes to Georgie’s special orders. Very few people know about her existence.”
I nodded. “So why are you telling me about her?”
“A show of good faith,” she said. “I want to level the playing field, so to speak. You’re a person who knows how to keep information to herself. You’re someone who realizes how easily misplacing that information could hurt other people. People who are important to you and to the vampire community.”
Ophelia shuffled some papers on her desk, looked through a page in her calendar. “Sometimes the things we know can put us in danger, particularly if other people are aware of what we know. No matter who we are or what our positions are, we have to keep in mind that someone is always listening, always watching, so sometimes we can’t act the way we wish we could.”
I glanced down at my tote bag.
“If you ever need help keeping that information private, you let me know,” Ophelia said. “I may not be able to intervene directly, but I am able to prevent you from being bothered by those trying to find that information. You’d be amazed how I can work behind the scenes. It’s a talent I think the two of us share.”
I nodded slowly. “I understand.”
She beamed. “Good. Now, Georgie is mad for a first-edition copy of The Secret Garden. She had one, but she put her thumb through the spine.”
I shuddered, imagining what this vampire child could be capable of with an actual human spine. I didn’t think I wanted to meet Georgie. Ever.
I smiled, a cheerful professional through and through. “No problem.”
As I pushed myself to my wobbly legs, a thought occurred to me, a question that, frankly, I was embarrassed I hadn’t thought of earlier. Ophelia had already lost interest in my presence and was playing FreeCell.
“Actually, Ophelia, I have a question.”
She didn’t look up.
“Regarding that private information,” I added. She glanced up through her long sable eyelashes, looking vaguely interested. “I was thinking about expanding my services to the Council. I noticed that new vampires get a welcome basket when they arrive in the Hollow. I could deliver them when I drop off the new-client contracts.”
Ophelia lifted a brow. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t work. The point of the baskets is to give the Council an excuse to make contact with recently relocated vampires. Would that I could assign you the task. The Council representatives take turns making the deliveries, and it’s increasingly tedious sending them reminder notes. They try to weasel out of it—shameless, really.”
“Really?” I smiled. “Well, that’s too bad.”
“Yes, the lack of whining would have been a refreshing change of pace,” Ophelia muttered.
