Thrill of the Chase (Hunters & Heartbreakers 1)

VIII - Wells

^^Above: The Strand, London, date unknown.^^

To my Juliette,

If this is not where you vent your worries,

At least let it be where you express your joy.

I love you, my darling.

—Your Timmy.

16 April.

Langdon Wilkes will be the death of me. All that time we sat in Hyde Park, I kept wondering why we'd been so far apart. Thanks to my sister, he knew my feelings now. But I still hadn't the faintest idea of his. I'd seen the way he looked at me, his bright brown eyes edged in softness. I don't know if that means he feels the same or if he's simply happy we're friends. Friends. As if it might not go beyond that.

Naomi found me that morning, sitting in our father's armchair next to the nearly-dead fireplace. I'd been deep in thought all day, and hadn't thought about going up to bed last night. And somehow, I must have fallen asleep anyway.

I heard her soft voice first, then felt her hand on my knee. When I opened my eyes she was there, kneeling in front of me, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl and her blonde hair tumbling in loose tangles down her back.

"Morning," I said, digging a knuckle into one eye and then the other.

Her brow furrowed as I sat up. "Were you here all night, Wells?"

Sheepishly, I nodded.

She sighed and cupped my chin, turning my face side to side. Then let go. "At least you didn't go off and get in another tussle. Where were you, anyway?"

"If you mean yesterday, I went out for a walk. And told Wilkes what we found out."

Naomi bit down on her lip. I knew her feelings for him lingered, and they probably would, for a long time. Especially if she decided to act on them. "What did he have to say about that?"

"A lot, actually. He had an entire story to go with it."

"A story?" I saw interest spark in her eyes. "Do tell."

"Maybe over breakfast? I'm ravenous."

—

Naomi sat for a long time chewing on the tines of her fork when I finished filling her in. I wondered, as I nibbled at the crust of my toast, when she would say anything.

When she did, it was: "We need to go back to King's Bench Street."

The crust stuck in my throat and I choked, needing a few deep swallows of tea to wash it down. "You're not serious."

"Do you think I'd say it if I hadn't been?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're mad, Naomi. They'd kill you as soon as look at you."

"I'm not, you know why? Because no one's ever stopped to talk to the vampires. They've only ever treated them as vermin. Pests to be exterminated. Creatures for killing. We know so much about them but we never think about what it must be like for them, always forced to live in the most squalid places like the rats do."

And there was my tenderhearted, sensitive sister. If she wasn't so afraid of them, she would save a rat from drowning. I'd never thought of it in the way she'd just laid out, but then again, I knew a little about being different in a way others didn't understand. Not to mention I could be punished for it if anyone else ever found out.