The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Four

 The bell at the front door rang later that morning, and Daphne and Trinket answered it to find Grace leaning against the doorframe, a smug smile on her painted lips. When she caught sight of Daphne and her portiums, though, her expression melted into surprise.

"Well, well, that's not something you see every day," she said, squinting as she took in the devices. "Booker's handiwork, I assume?"

"Yes," Trinket replied.

"Knowing Booker Larkin, I doubt this was for aesthetic purposes. So what are you hiding under there?"

Daphne raised her eyebrows and pasted on a smile. She stepped aside, inviting the night flower inside.

"Not much for talk, is she?" Grace asked as she entered the foyer.

Opening her mouth wide and stooping forward, Daphne showed Grace what was left of her tongue. There was no more infection, but it was a sight to behold.

Grace fell back a step and clutched her shawl closer to her chest. "Ah. I see. That's unfortunate. I'm surprised Booker hasn't found a way to fix that."

"Daphne has very creative ways of getting around her missing parts," Booker said as he came through the laboratory door. He flashed Daphne a smile. "As well as her added ones."

Daphne returned the smile. She held her index finger and thumb together and lifted them up before making her way to the kitchen.

"Tea," Trinket translated as Booker looked to her for an explanation.

He turned back to Grace. "See? With her creativity and Trinket's skill with tongues—or rather lack of them—we get along just fine. Anyhow, thank you for stopping by. Come, make yourself at home."

He motioned to the parlour, but Grace raised an eyebrow. "Oh, dear Booker, if I'm really going to make myself at home with you, I think your maid may get jealous."

Trinket didn't even need to be touching Booker to know how tense his muscles were. He was still sporting a polite smile, but it looked poised to fall at any second. "You're always so full of wit, Grace. Please, take a seat. I have some questions for you."

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Grace reluctantly sat on the settee. Booker went to the armchair, and Trinket noticed he casually edged it further away from the settee before sitting down. Chuckling softly, she positioned herself beside the chair, ready to swoop in and rescue him if need be.

"Sorry for the delay," Grace said as she arranged her patched skirts. "A good customer of mine was particularly needy. Poor dear, his wife is laid up with another cold. Seems she's sick nearly every week. Fragile little creature. Although, based on her husband's performance, I can't help but think that perhaps her persistent illnesses might be put on."

Booker cleared his throat and folded his hands on his knees. "Well, I thank you for coming so quickly."

"I'm not as quick as you'd think, Booker dear," she said with a suggestive grin.

Was that a blush in Booker's cheeks? It would have almost amused Trinket if she wasn't mortified by the night flower's innuendos.

"Anyhow," he continued, "I wanted to ask you about your associates."

"Associates?"

"The other night flowers."

"Why? Are you looking for some company? Because none of them are as good as me."

Booker leaned forward slightly as he shook his head, avoiding Grace's eyes. "No. I was curious if there's any fresh blood in your ranks."

She shrugged. "I don't exactly converse with them on the regular. But as far as I know, there hasn't been anyone all that new. It can be hard to keep track. New girls are often shy and quiet about their business, so it can take a while to notice them."