something about that eye, its cold and calculating assessment
of her and everything about her, made all her organs shrivel. He turned and marched into the train. Two handsome young men in uniform tagged after the doctor like obedient pups, reverently bearing his books and baggage.
Brigit decided to linger in the empty lounge car before going back to her own compartment. She wasnât in the mood to wait in the corridor while the beleaguered porter attempted to settle the cranky old couple. Neither did she feel like getting any closer to that doctor and his eye.
Maybe he wasnât studying me. Maybe he was just staring into space. Middle-distancing.
But she knew that wasnât it. The look was harsher than anything sheâd seen in even that Sergeant Maurerâs interested, icy face. Harsher, and more triumphant. Which, if it meant what she hoped it didnât, could spell a level of danger she wasnât sure how to navigate. This uncertainty was more unsettling than the doctorâs lookâshe couldnât get used to it. Her faculties were clouded. She would have to eat soon.
Not that it will help much. Damn it.
What would have been ideal was a meal at the station, but she was not alone enough to draw one in, and in any case, there hadnât been any likely candidates. There was a trick to picking someone out in a public place, both the vampire and meal had to be unobtrusive. The prey must give off the sense of a person who wouldnât immediately be missed. It wasnât enough for them to traveling alone, they had to be unnoticeable. Anything else could rouse suspicion. And while her status as an innocent young woman was helpful in case of questions, it slowed her down when tracking food. Men engaged in the business of travel, especially during wartime, had a mind less tuned toward such lively possibilities. Furthermore, she had to be careful using allurements, because someone, like the mother with the twins, might observe the action and thus create a scene. It was all right for Mors, people would expect a silly girl to be attracted to a sexy, smiling man, and if she was later found dead and the man long gone, well, it was her own fault, wasnât it? Her parents hadnât taught her sense. A beautiful woman smiling encouragingly at a man, however, and drawing him away from the public eye, she was more likely to be remembered. It was best not to be spotted when looking for food. Especially given the circumstances.
The body would have to be disposed of. Even to stage a suicide was risky and might delay the train. She would have to find someone traveling alone, wheedle them away somewhere discreet before their stop, eat, and then toss the body out the window once the train was going again. The staff would assume they had disembarked. By the time anyone waiting for them alerted authorities, the train and Brigit would be long gone. As for when they found the body, well, she would just disguise the marks and hope for the best.
She smiled at the lounge attendant, gave him a perfunctory, expected order, and headed back to her compartment. There, she took off her hat, gloves, and coat and sat down to compose herself for the upcoming trial of dinner. She would prefer to remain here, with a door closed behind her, listening to the reassuringly musical breathing of her dangerous cargo. But she knew that those who thought it right she appear outnumbered those who thought it more appropriate that she remain ensconced in her compartment. For now, it was best she please the majority. Their opinion held more sway.
When she knew she could avoid it no longer, she changed her dress, smoothed her hair, and checked that her seams were still perfectly straight. She desperately hated to leave the compartment so unguarded but had little choice.
âIâll be back soon,â she announced with determined cool, bolting the door behind her and thinking foolishly of the humanly impenetrable entrance to the
of her and everything about her, made all her organs shrivel. He turned and marched into the train. Two handsome young men in uniform tagged after the doctor like obedient pups, reverently bearing his books and baggage.
Brigit decided to linger in the empty lounge car before going back to her own compartment. She wasnât in the mood to wait in the corridor while the beleaguered porter attempted to settle the cranky old couple. Neither did she feel like getting any closer to that doctor and his eye.
Maybe he wasnât studying me. Maybe he was just staring into space. Middle-distancing.
But she knew that wasnât it. The look was harsher than anything sheâd seen in even that Sergeant Maurerâs interested, icy face. Harsher, and more triumphant. Which, if it meant what she hoped it didnât, could spell a level of danger she wasnât sure how to navigate. This uncertainty was more unsettling than the doctorâs lookâshe couldnât get used to it. Her faculties were clouded. She would have to eat soon.
Not that it will help much. Damn it.
What would have been ideal was a meal at the station, but she was not alone enough to draw one in, and in any case, there hadnât been any likely candidates. There was a trick to picking someone out in a public place, both the vampire and meal had to be unobtrusive. The prey must give off the sense of a person who wouldnât immediately be missed. It wasnât enough for them to traveling alone, they had to be unnoticeable. Anything else could rouse suspicion. And while her status as an innocent young woman was helpful in case of questions, it slowed her down when tracking food. Men engaged in the business of travel, especially during wartime, had a mind less tuned toward such lively possibilities. Furthermore, she had to be careful using allurements, because someone, like the mother with the twins, might observe the action and thus create a scene. It was all right for Mors, people would expect a silly girl to be attracted to a sexy, smiling man, and if she was later found dead and the man long gone, well, it was her own fault, wasnât it? Her parents hadnât taught her sense. A beautiful woman smiling encouragingly at a man, however, and drawing him away from the public eye, she was more likely to be remembered. It was best not to be spotted when looking for food. Especially given the circumstances.
The body would have to be disposed of. Even to stage a suicide was risky and might delay the train. She would have to find someone traveling alone, wheedle them away somewhere discreet before their stop, eat, and then toss the body out the window once the train was going again. The staff would assume they had disembarked. By the time anyone waiting for them alerted authorities, the train and Brigit would be long gone. As for when they found the body, well, she would just disguise the marks and hope for the best.
She smiled at the lounge attendant, gave him a perfunctory, expected order, and headed back to her compartment. There, she took off her hat, gloves, and coat and sat down to compose herself for the upcoming trial of dinner. She would prefer to remain here, with a door closed behind her, listening to the reassuringly musical breathing of her dangerous cargo. But she knew that those who thought it right she appear outnumbered those who thought it more appropriate that she remain ensconced in her compartment. For now, it was best she please the majority. Their opinion held more sway.
When she knew she could avoid it no longer, she changed her dress, smoothed her hair, and checked that her seams were still perfectly straight. She desperately hated to leave the compartment so unguarded but had little choice.
âIâll be back soon,â she announced with determined cool, bolting the door behind her and thinking foolishly of the humanly impenetrable entrance to the
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