Although it had been her own concern, Helen bristled. ‘On the contrary, since his lordship has placed this in my hands, he must feel I am ready.’
‘Really?’ Lady Margaret picked up the elegantly curved teapot and poured herself another cup, the precise action full of disdain. ‘More likely he is testing you to see which way you go.’ She replaced the pot with a sharp click on the polished tabletop. ‘And you are patently going the wrong way.’
‘Is that so?’ Helen said. Gratitude could only stretch so far. ‘Am I to gather that you know his lordship’s mind better than he does?’
‘Well, I certainly know that he —’
‘Mr Hammond, please tell me your duties,’ Delia said, the force and volume of her interruption swinging all attention to her. ‘So that I may make a proper decision. Do you and your sister fight the creatures too?’
Her eyes cut to Helen in a moment of solidarity. It seemed her friend was already in the business of peacemaking.
‘No,’ Mr Hammond said, regarding Delia with new respect. ‘We help Lord Carlston in other matters, but we do not fight the Deceivers. When that is required, it is the duty of a Reclaimer. Most Deceivers live according to the Compact. It is only those who break the pact that are hunted.’
Delia frowned. ‘The Compact?’
‘Perhaps you will answer this for Miss Cransdon, Margaret?’ Mr Hammond smiled coaxingly at his sister.
She crossed her arms. ‘We should not be sharing information like this with someone who is not yet sworn to keep her silence.’
‘Delia needs to know what she will be facing,’ Helen said, abandoning all attempt to keep the sharpness from her tone. ‘Surely you were told about the Deceivers before you took your oath.’
‘Naturally we were,’ Mr Hammond said, sending a stern glance at his sister. ‘Margaret, please!’
With a sniff of reluctance, Lady Margaret turned to Delia. ‘The Compact is our agreement with the Deceivers. It allows the creatures to feed upon human energy by skimming a tiny amount from many people. It is not their preferred way of feeding, of course; they would much rather glut upon the energy of one person at a time. That, however, is forbidden. Glutting, you see, almost always kills the victim, and the influx of their life force allows the creatures to build the energy whips that they use as weapons.’
‘Oh, my,’ Delia breathed. ‘Stolen bodies, energy whips, feeding upon human energy. It is all so,’ her shoulders twitched, ‘Gothic.’
Helen shifted on her seat. ‘It is not like a novel, Delia. Real people get hurt and killed.’
‘Of course,’ Delia said. ‘I did not mean to sound flippant.’
‘The creatures are not visible to our eye, so it is hard to believe at first,’ Mr Hammond said kindly. ‘Part of the Compact requires them to maintain their anonymity. There are too many of them to destroy and so we must live alongside them. We cannot, however, have their existence known to the general populace. The panic would rip apart society. We must maintain stability, especially in a time of war. Our country cannot fight both the French and the Deceivers.’
Delia nodded gravely. ‘How many of them are there?’
Helen glanced at Mr Hammond. This was the number that had shocked her so thoroughly.
‘At least ten thousand in England alone,’ he said.
Helen watched her friend’s face. Delia had always been phlegmatic, but her calm acceptance of the Deceivers so far seemed remarkable. Perhaps she did not truly understand the magnitude of what they faced.
‘That is one Deceiver in every one thousand people,’ Helen added. ‘And probably as many in every other country.’
Delia’s mouth formed a soundless oh. ‘That many,’ she said faintly.
There it was: the horrible realisation. Helen still felt it herself.
‘Most of them congregate in the towns and cities,’ she said, ‘places with the highest concentrations of human energy. Many will follow the beau monde here for the summer Season. Some will even be people with whom you converse and dance.’
Delia flinched. ‘Yes, of course, like Mr Trent,’ she said, her attention suddenly fixed upon her teacup.
Helen felt a flick of guilt. It was perhaps unkind to drive home the idea that anyone could be a Deceiver, particularly after Delia’s experience with her false suitor. Still, it was better that she should know the full extent of the matter.
Mr Hammond broke the uncomfortable silence. ‘There are some that have even worked their way into high positions. It seems Deceivers cannot breed with their own kind to create Deceiver offspring. Instead, the creatures breed with humans to produce human offspring. At the time of conception, a spark of the parent Deceiver’s own energy, called a vestige, is planted within the human child. When the parent Deceiver’s inhabited human body eventually dies — as all human bodies must die — it uses that vestige as a pathway to colonise the body of one of its human children, thus surviving from generation to generation. Some have used those centuries to build large fortunes and strongholds of power in the upper echelons of society.’
That brought Delia’s eyes up from her cup. ‘Who do you mean? How high up in society? The Royal family?’
‘The Royal family are as human as you and I,’ Lady Margaret said. She bent a fierce frown towards her brother. ‘Really, Michael. These are secret matters.’
Delia turned to Helen. ‘What happens to the offspring child already inhabiting the body?’
‘The Deceiver destroys the child. Mind and soul.’
‘Heaven forfend.’ Delia closed her eyes for a horrified moment. ‘Where did these creatures come from?’
‘No one is certain. Some of the old writings say they are from Hell itself. Others say they are made from the yearnings of humanity, or are the angry spirits of the dearly departed.’
‘What do you think they are?’ Delia asked.
Helen shook her head. ‘I cannot rightly say. We do know there are at least four kinds of Deceiver.’ She counted each off on a finger. ‘The Hedons who seek out the energy of creativity, the Pavors who thrive on pain and anguish, the Cruors who follow bloodlust and battle, and the Luxures who seek …’
She paused, feeling her skin heat. What was she doing dragging her friend into such a sordid, dangerous world?
‘Who seek sexual pleasure,’ Mr Hammond finished, his voice carefully flat. ‘And do not forget the fifth and worst kind: the Grand Deceiver.’
Delia sat up straighter. ‘That sounds rather ominous.’
Lady Margaret made a warning noise deep in her throat. ‘Does she really need to know about the Grand Deceiver at this point?’
‘I think she does,’ Helen said. ‘It is a rare, special kind of Deceiver, Delia. It has more power, more cunning and the ability to draw all of the other Deceivers into an army.’
At the corner of her eye, she saw Lady Margaret’s mouth purse.