The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 They found Booker emerging from an alley by the chemist's shop. Relief washed over his face when he saw them, and he came running over. The rain had soaked his jacket through and collected in the brim of his hat. The water poured out when he dropped his head to catch his breath.

"Where on earth did you go?" he asked, fixing his gaze on Trinket.

"I'm sorry, but I saw the girl from the apartment."

His eyes lit up. "The one who was at the scenes of the vampire deaths?"

"Girl? What girl?" asked Gin.

"We think she might be connected to the vampire," Booker said, his attention still on Trinket.

"When I saw her at each murder scene, I just felt like there was something about her," Trinket explained. "The expression on her face was more than fear. It suggested involvement."

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Gin asked. "I coulda been looking out for her."

Trinket turned to the urchin. "She's not very recognizable. No outstanding features at all. But when I see her, I know who she is."

"So? Did you find her?" Booker asked.

Hesitating for a moment, she finally nodded. "I did."

He took a step towards her, gripping her shoulders. "And?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but again, the words wouldn't come out.

Tell him.

Tell him who else you met.

See how that goes.

"Do you think maybe we could discuss this somewhere warmer and drier?" she asked instead.

Blinking away the rain, Booker gave his head a quick shake. "Right, right, of course. Let's head back. You, too, Gin. I think we all need a good cup of tea to warm our bones."

They huddled underneath the umbrella and quickly made their way home. Daphne met them at the door and immediately went to the linen closet to fetch some towels. Trinket went straight to the kitchen to start the tea, though her true motive was to have a few moments alone to collect her thoughts.

Booker needed to know about Tory. Not only had it been confirmed that she was the vampire, but based on her escape from the asylum, she had met Benedict. She had been in Benedict's laboratory. Perhaps she would be able to call up more memories that could lead them to him. She was the break in this case that Booker had been waiting for.

Go ahead. Tell him.

Let him see how crazy you are.

Let him see you for who you really are.

She stared at the kettle as it began to boil. No, telling Booker posed too many risks. If she told Booker and they found Tory, he would learn about Tory's past, including her time spent in Elysium. Which meant he would learn more about Trinket's life in the asylum. The thought of him finding out about her former life—even the parts she had given him small glimpses of—was terrifying. What could that lead to? Would his curiosity be whetted? Would he next dig into her earlier years? Her family? Her childhood?

Her sins?

The kettle let off a high-pitched whistle, and she pulled it off of the heat and set it on the pull-out cutting board in the table. Why was she so anxious about Booker learning more about her? He had proven to be a trustworthy friend. Surely he wouldn't condemn her if he knew the truth. Well, at least some of the truth. He, too, had something of a dark past, one that he'd started to share with her. Shouldn't she be doing the same? Even if it meant he may never look at her the same way again?