The Journal of Vincent Du Maurier (Book 1) by K. P. Ambroziak Page B

exhaled. “But your stepfather is gone.”
    She pursed her lips and turned away. “Did he
upset you?”
    Her question surprised me; it meant she
assumed we had harmed him. “No,” I said. “He was rather useful to us.”
    “Did the creepers get in?” Her voice cracked.
    “We have not been breached.” I tried to deal
with her as Byron would, but I was not as compassionate as he was. “We have to
take you somewhere more safe,” I said. “We have to find food too.” I told her
of our plans and assured her I would let her know when I had worked out the
details for her. I told her it was imperative she stay in her room for the time
being, as I did not want anyone—or anything—to catch a whiff of her
scent.
    “I’ll stay here,” she said. “But please don’t
forget me.”
    She was terrified—I could practically
smell her fear. For a brief moment—very brief—I wanted to send one of
the others in to sit with her, but my sympathy passed and I got up to go. As I reached
for the door, she made the offer I loathed to refuse.
    “You can have my blood if you need it,” she
said.
    She knows our secret—I am certain of it
now.
     
    9 October. — The girl proved easy
enough to transport, and we have my beloved to thank for that. An entry in his
notes gave me the solution I needed. Sometime in the early stages of his
experimentation, he had discovered that the bloodless were unable to detect
particular scents. They were acutely aware of the smell of living flesh, but
they seemed indifferent to the smell of the vampire. The attacks they made on
us were random. They could not have cared for Maxine the night they surrounded
her, but probably sensed the humans inside the trattoria. Byron’s note read:
    Test Subject
56 – incapable of detecting the burning from the candle wax – I
held a piece of flesh just out of reach – she clambered to get to it
– she fell off the table – her reaction was as expected – the
lit camphor oil was different – she did not smell the flesh doused in oil
– same reaction with incense, spice, lavender, etc. etc. – no
reaction to aromatic perfumes. Conclusion: olfactory organs are limited –
human flesh reaction – human flesh covered in perfume no reaction. Must
try opiates next!
    With this, my sweet Byron, you have given me
the answer to getting the girl out of the cathedral undetected.
    When I explained it to her, she was
surprisingly cooperative. The baptismal ritual was unpleasant, to be sure.
Veronica and Elizabeth brought me all the incense oils they could find and we
filled a wash basin. The girl covered her hair, her face, her arms, her legs,
every bit of skin with the perfume, and then we dressed her in an oil-drenched
garment. The smell was repellent to us since we could barely detect the human scent
beneath all the perfume.
    I paid my respects to Byron’s ashes, sealing
the sarcophagus forever. I packed his notebooks and put on the overcoat he wore
the last time I saw him. My heart was heavy, but I turned my focus to the
journey ahead—and the clan, my clan, I was desperate to keep safe.
    With all the supplies we could gather, we
left the cathedral in a weaker state than when we had arrived. The girl was nestled
between me and Jean, as Stephen led us through the passage to the exit. Before he
untied the chain from the portal, he listened at the opening for howls, and when
he heard none, we proceeded out the hatch.
    The earth’s full satellite greeted us, as we
rose up from the ground. Despite the light of the moon, the field was as dark
as ink, but we moved easily through the wilderness. I glanced back at the
cathedral only once, and then let it disappear from view forever. Byron’s last kiss
remained with me, though, as I welcomed the cool air on my skin.
    Our first test came at the edge of the dale.
The field had been empty, but when we reached the valley, we ran into a swarm too
big to skirt.
    “Qu’est-ce qu’on fait?” Elizabeth clung to
Jean and