“Still at Sept-Tours?” Sonia tried to sound casual, but there was no disguising the curiosity in her tone.
“Yes, she is. Not that it’s any business of yours,” Phoebe said as she licked the blood from her lips, making sure to get the drop that was pooled in the corner. She bit her thumb and swiped it across Sonia’s arm to help the teeth marks heal.
“I meant no offense,” Sonia said mildly.
“Sonia’s a warmblood, Phoebe, not a vampire,” Miriam reminded her. “And your guest. The usual rules about personal information don’t apply.”
“And Ysabeau is my mate’s grandmother.” Phoebe’s veins were thundering with fresh blood, and she felt a bit tipsy. She eyed the champagne bottle. It was nearly empty.
“She’s loyal, I see, as well as polite.” Sonia rolled her sleeve down. “She said thank you before she took a bite. And she was able to stop herself from feeding. I’m impressed.”
Phoebe stood and poured the last of the wine into the waiting glass. Once again, she had passed some kind of test. She felt that a drink was in order.
After that, Phoebe sincerely hoped there would be an offer of dessert.
* * *
—
TWO BOTTLES OF CHAMPAGNE LATER, Miriam put Sonia in a cab. There had been dessert, thanks to Sonia’s generosity and due in no small part to the excellence of Freyja’s wine cellar.
Freyja returned home shortly after Sonia left. She cast an eye over her upholstery, saw Persephone was purring by the fire, and let out a sigh of relief.
“It all went according to plan,” Miriam assured her, looking over the lid of her laptop.
“Just as we thought.” Freyja smiled. “And the other matter?”
“What other matter?” Phoebe said, still glowing from drinking blood laced with champagne.
“Must there really be five names, Freyja?” Miriam wondered. “It seems a bit excessive.”
“It is common among de Clermonts,” Freyja said, “not to mention useful. We are a long-lived family, and it saves trouble later. This way there is no last-minute legal scramble if property needs to change hands.”
“I’ve already picked four,” Phoebe said, scrambling in her pocket for the slip of paper. She had anticipated that this all-important matter of names would be sprung on her without warning. “Phoebe Alice Catherine Taylor. What do you think?”
“Alice?” Miriam frowned. “But that’s German! What about Yara?”
“Taylor?” Freyja looked shocked. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Phoebe dearest. People will think you are in trade. I’ve been wondering if Maren would suit you. I had a great friend named Maren, and you remind me of her.”
“I like Taylor,” Phoebe said.
Freyja and Miriam took no notice of her, and continued to argue for the relative merits of Illi and Gudrum and Agnete.
“As a matter of fact, I like all of my names. So does Baldwin,” Phoebe said, raising her voice slightly.
“Baldwin?” Miriam’s eyes narrowed.
“I wrote him last week,” Phoebe said.
“But it’s not up to Baldwin,” Miriam said, her voice purring in her throat. “You’re my daughter. Naming you is my job.”
Wisely, Phoebe kept silent. A few moments passed. Miriam sighed.
“The de Clermont family will be the death of me one day,” she said. “Keep your names, then. And add Najima.”
“Phoebe Alice Najima Catherine Taylor de Clermont.” Freyja considered the string of names. “That’s settled, then.”
Phoebe pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
She had won her first battle against her maker.
Now she just had to tell Baldwin, in case Miriam suspected she was lying and called to check up on her story. Phoebe felt sure Baldwin would cover for her.
“And how was your twenty-first day as a vampire?” Freyja asked. It had become part of the household ritual—and part of her education—for Phoebe to share how she had gotten on that day.
“Perfect,” Phoebe said, finally able to smile openly without showing her maker any sign of disrespect. “Absolutely perfect.”
20
As the Twig Is Bent
5 JUNE
It was ten days before Matthew’s rebirthday, and we were in the library reviewing the arrangements for this summer’s party. Although I’d promised him there would be no large event like last year, I couldn’t let the day go without some kind of celebration. We had finally settled on having a small family affair—just Sarah and Agatha, Marcus, Ysabeau, Marthe and Alain and Victoire, and Jack and Fernando, in addition to me and the children.
“That’s nine other people,” Matthew said with a scowl, looking at the guest list. “You promised it was going to be small.”
“Ten, if you include Baldwin.”
Matthew groaned.
“I couldn’t very well leave him out,” I said.
“Fine,” Matthew said hastily, wanting to stem any additional invitations. “When are they all coming?”
Just then a towheaded young man with long, gangly legs and wide shoulders walked in.
“Hi, Mum,” he said. “Hey, Dad.”
“Jack!” I said, surprised. “We didn’t expect you so soon!”
Jack was, in many ways, our first child. Matthew and I had taken him into our household in Elizabethan London, hoping to give him a life that was not filled with terror, homelessness, and hunger. When we left in 1591, I had put him in the care of Andrew Hubbard, who ruled over London’s vampires—then and now. We had not expected to see Jack again, but he had chosen to become a vampire rather than succumb to the plague.
“Something wrong, Jack?” Matthew’s expression registered unease as he picked up on unspoken signals of distress coming from Jack.
“I’m in trouble,” Jack confessed.
The last time Jack had been “in trouble,” he ended up in the newspapers as the mysterious “vampire murderer” who drained his victims of blood before abandoning their corpses.
“Nobody’s dead,” Jack said hastily, guessing the direction of my thoughts. “I was feeding—on Suki, Dad, not some stranger. I took too much blood too quickly and she ended up in hospital. Father Hubbard told me to come straight here.”
Suki was the young woman the family employed to watch over Jack in London and provide him with sustenance when he could no longer make do with animals and bagged human blood. Vampires needed to hunt, and there were humans who were happy to oblige them—for a fee. It was a dangerous business, and one that I thought the Congregation should be regulating. My proposals on the subject had been met with resistance, however.
“Where is Suki now?” Matthew’s mouth was grim.
“Home. Her sister is with her. Father Hubbard said he’ll check on her twice a day.” Jack looked and sounded miserable.
“Oh, Jack.” I wanted to give him a hug and comfort him, but the tension in the air between Matthew and our son made me reconsider wading into something I didn’t fully understand.
“Suki is your responsibility,” Matthew said. “You shouldn’t have left her in that state.”
“Father Hubbard said—”
“I’m not really interested in what Andrew said,” Matthew interrupted. “You know the rules. If you can’t put Suki’s well-being before your own, your relationship will have to end.”
“I know, Dad. But I wasn’t—I’m still not—I don’t even know what happened. One minute I was fine, and then . . .” Jack trailed off. “When I left her with Father Hubbard, I thought I was looking after her.”
“There are no second chances, Jack. Not with blood rage.” Matthew looked regretful. “I’ll settle things with Suki. You won’t have to see her again.”
“Suki didn’t do anything wrong and neither did I!” Jack’s eyes got darker and his tone more defensive in response to Matthew’s disapproval. “This isn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” Matthew said quietly. “But it is our obligation as vampires to do what we can to take care of creatures who are weaker than we are.”
“What will happen to her now?” Jack asked, miserable.