To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 14

14

1836 NORTHERN NORMANDY, FRANCE

A malie scanned her room a second time, searching the back wall. There. The door was hardly obvious, hidden in the paneling.

She strode across the room, the idea of a bath so enticing, her breathing quickened. Her skin was covered in a fine layer of silt, and she didn’t want to know what her feet smelled like.

You need a bath. Theo was rude. Not exactly cruel, but definitely not kind. He seemed to both despise her and . . .

Amalie’s cheeks flushed as she remembered how he seemed to undress her with his eyes. It was because of what he was. What she was. He desired her blood, nothing more.

And yet he hadn’t taken it.

Amalie frowned as she reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. The room was bright, a long window on the far wall letting in streams of golden sunlight. It was morning, Amalie realized. They'd reached the island when the sun was barely rising. No wonder she was exhausted.

A woman in a cap and apron stood by a large copper tub, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stoked the fire beneath. Her eyes widened as she noticed Amalie. "Oh! Mademoiselle, I didn't hear you come in." The servant girl stood frozen, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched the iron poker. She was young, perhaps no older than Amalie, with wide brown eyes and a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, wisps escaping to frame her face.

She was human. Amalie's pulse sped. Did this woman know she was working in a vampire's lair?

"The water's warm enough. Master Vallon insisted you'd want it steaming. If you wait a few moments, it will get there." The servant stood, wiping her hands on her apron, leaving a streak of ash on the fabric.

"Thank you." Amalie's eyes darted around the room. The scent of eucalyptus and lavender hung heavy in the air, her favorite herbs for a bath. Strange.

She walked to the edge of the tub and dipped her hand in the water. She couldn't keep from sighing. A bowl of rose petals floated on the surface of the water, their delicate pink hue contrasting with the copper of the tub. Amalie's lips parted in wonder. She'd never been treated to such luxuries. Aunt Maurielle was a practical woman. She believed in oregano soap and a stiff brush.

Amalie turned and took in the array of jars and bottles lining the shelves. Each was meticulously labeled in elegant script, boasting names like lavande, romarin, and chamomile. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing over the glass, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath her skin.

"For your feet." The servant handed her a jar of salve, then paused. She glanced between the shelves and Amalie, her mouth opening and closing.

“What is it?” Amalie asked.

The servant’s cheeks flushed. “Master Vallon said it wouldn’t be necessary to provide monthly cloths. You may n-not . . . I only meant that your visit may be short, but?—”

“It’s not necessary.” Blood rushed in Amalie’s ears. The servant girl bobbed her head and exited through the door to Amalie's room. She hadn't been there before, had she? She must have come in while she was talking with Theo, which meant . . .

Amalie looked down at the ointment in her hands. Had Theo planned this? Had he known she'd come to his room, or had he planned to provide a bath well after they arrived? Had he noticed her feet before they’d arrived at the castle?

Why had he told his servant not to provide monthly cloths? Surely he couldn’t know . . . Amalie tensed. Could vampires sense a woman’s menstruation? The thought made her stomach roil.

It didn’t matter for her. She set the jar on the counter. She’d never bled, and neither had her sister. It was part of their blood condition, and she’d never quite understood it. If they didn’t bleed, they couldn’t become pregnant. Yet her mother had birthed two healthy girls?—

Blood rushed in Amalie’s ears as another piece slid into place. It wasn’t a blood condition. Was it possible she didn’t bleed because she was a guardian?

Amalie felt suddenly woozy, and her gaze shifted to a tray set on a small wooden table. Fresh bread, a wedge of cheese, and a cluster of grapes. Her stomach growled, and she realized with a start how hungry she was. She'd been so consumed with her mission, she'd scarcely thought about food.

Amalie reached for a grape, the skin taut and glistening. She popped it into her mouth, savoring the burst of sweetness on her tongue. There was a knife on the tray, and she used it to slice off some cheese, briefly wondering if she should hold onto the blade. Keep it hidden in her trousers.

But what would be the point? If Theo or a vampire in his coven decided to attack her, there was nothing she would be able to do to save herself. She set the knife down and tore off a piece of bread.

After her stomach was moderately full, she reached for the buttons of her shirt. She undressed quickly, her movements efficient. She didn't want to linger on the fact that she was standing naked in Theo's home, that she was about to immerse herself in a bath he'd arranged for her.

Why had he done this? It wasn't to be considerate, that she was sure of. He'd been happy for her to huddle on a stone floor wrapped in a potato sack hours earlier. Maybe this was how he treated all his human guests. Pampered them before he drank their blood. Maybe the servants here didn't know how to offer anything different.

She stepped into the tub, hissing as the hot water lapped at her skin and stung the raw skin on her toes. She lowered herself slowly, the heat seeping into her muscles, melting away the tension that had coiled there. It was heavenly.

She closed her eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as she sank up to her neck. She could enjoy this couldn't she? It didn't make her any less dedicated to killing Theo Vallon if she savored a few moments of pleasure in the midst of her most disturbing nightmare.

Then Amalie remembered how easily the servant had entered her room. She was surrounded by vampires. There wasn't time to relax. She needed to start searching for answers so she could find the relic, kill Theo, and take it back to Marcel and Olivie.

A lump formed in her throat as she thought about returning to Mordelles. She could go back. She wasn't going to turn into a monster. Tears welled in her eyelids at the realization that she didn't have to lose her life or her family and friends.

That was the moment she chose to believe Theo's story. If he was wrong, at least she would turn into a vampire with hope blooming in her chest instead of cowering in fear.

But how much did she believe?

Amalie reached for a bar of soap, inhaling the scent of lavender as she lathered it between her hands. She worked the suds into her hair, scrubbing at her scalp until it tingled. She rinsed, then repeated the process with a cloth, working the soap over her skin, scrubbing away the dirt and sweat.

Some of his story was simple to grasp, but she still couldn’t wrap her head around her mother’s death. She’d always assumed Theo had killed her out of thirst, but now . . . Theo recognized her blood. He hadn’t taken hers when he had the chance. Wouldn’t he have known her mother was a guardian? Wouldn’t he have kept her alive like he’d done with her since her mother could have helped him find the sword just as well as she could?

But if another vampire killed her mother, they also would’ve recognized guardian blood. Theo had said they could sense it above anything else. Wouldn’t they have come after her? Or Bethany? Her entire family?

Her head felt like it had been stuffed full of stinging nettle.

Amalie scrubbed until she was raw, and after rinsing, was tempted to lie back and soak. Instead, she forced herself from the tub. She stepped onto a clean cloth on the floor, the water cascading from her skin as she reached for a towel. She wrapped it around herself, feeling the soft cotton against her skin.

Amalie dried herself quickly, then noticed a set of clean underwear, a blouse, and trousers folded on the counter. She frowned. It wasn't common for women to forego a corset or wear trousers, and yet that was exactly what the servant had left for her. She pulled the blouse over her head. The fit was perfect. Very strange.

She finished dressing, applied the salve, then ran a comb through her hair and braided it quickly, tying it off with a ribbon. She took another bite of bread and cheese, pulled a few grapes from the vine, and was about to exit when the servant walked back into the room.

"Dressed already?" The woman looked surprised.

Amalie nodded. "I have work to do. What is your name?"

The woman smiled and bobbed a curtsy. "Henriette."

"Thank you, Henriette. This was lovely."

Her smile widened. "I've never run a bath in this room, but 'ave always wanted to."

"Never? Not for . . . Master Vallon's other guests?"

She crossed the room, using the poker to smother the flames beneath the tub. "Master Vallon does not have other guests. Not since I've been 'ere."

Something flipped in her chest. He didn't bring other guests? What had Theo said, that the others were used to his odd lifestyle? Amalie thought of her uncle. How he'd described her mother slipping out at night, meeting with a vampire after dark. Theo had snuck in her window, hadn't he? Maybe he preferred to do his killing away from home.

"How long have you been here?" Amalie asked, moving toward the door.

"Three years." Henriette set the poker in a cast iron rack.

"And you only work for Master Vallon?"

Henriette shook her head. "I work for the north wing. There are three other servants, one of them my sister."

"And all of you are . . . safe?"

Henriette's lip twitched. "Of course. Why wouldn't we be?"

Amalie's heart thudded in her chest. "Right." Her eyes flicked to a chain around the woman's neck. For a moment, she was back in the house on the river. Her mother tucking her in at night. A locket hanging off a chain, so close to her face, she thought she could kiss it.

"Don't worry, this key will go straight back to Master Vallon when he returns," Henriette lifted the chain, showing her the key that hung there. "It's the only one for this room, so you don't have to worry about anyone else interrupting you."

Amalie nodded, her words sinking in. Only one key. Henriette would give it back to Theo when he returned. "Do you know where he's off to?"

Henriette shook her head. "Master Vallon is extremely busy. He rarely sleeps here two days in a row. I was surprised to 'ear that he planned on returning in the morning."

Amalie put a hand on the door. "Thank you again, Henriette."

The woman bobbed her head. "I'll finish up here, then I'll pop back through your room. You won't even know I'm there."

Amalie nodded and pushed the door open. Her room looked exactly as she'd left it, besides the three stacks of books that now sat on the writing desk. She yawned and covered her mouth with her hand.

Time to get to work.