The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Eighteen

 Booker spent the next two rainy days down in the laboratory, watching the spotted tree hopper and recording every observation he made. Trinket couldn't believe that in such a short time he had filled up nearly an entire notebook. How much could he possibly learn about the creature while it was inside a glass jar? She hoped he wasn't taking it out and handling it, but she was sure that even Booker Larkin knew how stupidly dangerous that was.

When she brought him tea on the second day, she found him staring at the jar while tapping his pencil against the notebook in front of him. "Has it spilled its secrets to you yet?" she asked, placing the cup and saucer beside him.

"I wish I could figure out how its fangs work," he said, still watching the snake intensely. It was coiled into a ball and didn't seem to be doing anything particularly interesting.

She stole a glance at his notebook. Along with his notes were sketches of the snake. Each one was from a different angle, and there was even a rather detailed drawing of the inside of its mouth.

"Please tell me this isn't drawn from real life," she said, pointing to the picture.

He shook his head. "It bared its teeth at me for a brief moment. I sketched that from memory."

Turning back to the jar, she dared to stoop a little closer. The snake peeked its head out of the huddle it had folded itself into and flicked its tongue at her.

"It likes you," Booker said with a grin.

"Lucky me." She stood upright. "I'm heading into the center if you need anything."

"You're going to check on Gin again."

She pursed her lips. "No, I need to buy mouse poison. We're having a bit of an infestation."

Booker raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yes, Daphne's seen them, too."

"Perhaps I should catch a few to feed to this fellow. It'd be interesting to see its fangs at work."

"How often does it need to eat?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. But I've read that some snakes can go almost six months without food."

She shook her head. "It's a good thing you don't have any pets. Anyhow, if you don't need anything at the store, I'll be off."

Turning to the stairs, she made her way back up to the house.

"Say hello to Gin for me," Booker called after her.

She grimaced as he chuckled under his breath. With a defeated sigh, she continued up the steps.

He knew her too well. Ever since that incident with Scales, she hadn't been able to stop worrying about Gin. Every time she passed by a window, she peered out to see if she could catch a glimpse of the street urchin's bowler hat. And she took any excuse she could find to go outside or to the center, searching for the girl as she went off on her rather unnecessary errands.

As she threw on her shawl and grabbed a black umbrella, she let out a long breath. She knew she was being overly concerned. Gin was smart and would be able to keep herself safe. Still, Trinket was haunted by that wicked glint in Scales' eyes when he suggested interrogating the girl through his "persuasive" methods. She couldn't imagine someone being malicious enough to torture a little girl. But if there was such a person, it would be Scales.

The rain came down in buckets, filling the bumps in the dirt road until they connected and became small, muddy ponds. It was nearly impossible to avoid them all, and it wasn't long before the water had seeped through her boots and soaked her stockings.