The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Seventeen

 The sun was still in the sky as they made their way to the Clocktower for an early dinner. Regardless of the time of day, Trinket couldn't help but feel that the streets were far safer with Booker by her side. Granted, he was often the one leading her into danger, but she believed her odds of survival were much higher when they were together.

"Lord, this vampire paraphernalia is disgusting," Booker said as they passed by a woman wearing three strings of garlic around her neck.

"Well, the sooner we prove to them that it's not a vampire, the sooner it will all disappear," Trinket said.

"We have to catch her first."

Trinket chewed on her lip. Should she tell him about her suspicions? Perhaps she should wait until they were in the Clocktower. Or maybe not. Maybe she should wait until she was absolutely sure it was true. It wasn't as if she had any tangible evidence, anyhow. She could be completely wrong.

Oh, how she hoped she was wrong.

The alehouse reeked of garlic and salt, and she and Booker had a difficult time finding a seat where the smell didn't make them sick

"Please tell me the stew isn't garlic," Booker said as a serving girl approached their table.

"Cook's special," the girl said with a nod.

He groaned and dropped his head on the table. "We'll just have cold meats and bread, thank you," Trinket said to the girl.

"This city has lost its charm," Booker said when the girl had left, his voice muffled as he remained facedown on the table.

Trinket's mouth quirked into a crooked smile, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her arms. "Oh, Mr. Larkin, Tinkerfall is still the twisted, crime-ridden cesspool you first fell in love with."

He lifted his head and gave a soft smile. "But their superstitions are so disillusioning."

"No one's perfect, right?"

His eyes wandered back and forth, and she suddenly realized how very close their faces were. "Well, some are closer to perfection than others," he said.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she imagined drawing a little closer to his lips. Just close enough that she could—

No! What was she thinking? Clearing her throat, she sat up straight and averted her eyes. Booker did the same, though he seemed a tad disappointed.

"So, other than the snake, was your trip to Broadfall uneventful?" she asked, trying to still her racing pulse.

"Oh, yes. Same stuck-up town as before. I couldn't imagine wasting my life somewhere so dull."

It was difficult to picture Booker settling down in her hometown. At this point, it was difficult picturing herself there. But dwelling too long on Broadfall made her chest tighten and her stomach clench anxiously, so she quickly moved on to a different subject.

"Have you heard from Jewkes about the butcher?" she asked.

"No, but while I was waiting for the steam engine, I heard talk that they're putting the shop up for sale. So I'm thinking his future is not looking too bright."

Her heart sank. "The poor man. There was no reason for him to get wrapped up in this mess."

"Yes, well, the Mice don't really care if innocent people die in their pursuit of intimidation."

The serving girl returned with their meal as well as two cups of tea. "Speaking of the Mice and intimidation," Trinket said, helping herself to a piece of bread.