Chapter Two

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 After a fitful night's sleep filled with unsettling thoughts of Booker dying by her own hand, Trinket woke and prepared herself for the day ahead. Her emotions were still in a tumultuous state, and the hundreds of spiders spinning webs along the banister as she made her way downstairs were not helping her focus. But she couldn't let these new feelings disrupt her work. She was Booker's assistant first and foremost. All other distractions had to be pushed aside.

Daphne was already making breakfast when Trinket entered the kitchen. The woman flashed her a cheerful smile and motioned to a plate of sliced cheese and bread.

"Thank you, Daphne," Trinket said, forcing herself to take a slice of bread more out of politeness than actual hunger. "Has Mr. Larkin come down yet?"

Daphne shook her head.

Fetching the kettle, Trinket made her way into the scullery to fill it with water. "I'm surprised. I thought he'd be pounding at my door as soon as the sun rose so that we could go out and learn more about this vampire."

Peering into the scullery, Daphne raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

"Oh, the patient from last night claims he was attacked by a vampire," Trinket said over the rushing sound of the water.

She turned the faucet off and returned to the kitchen as Daphne scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I agree. It does seem a tad preposterous," Trinket said, setting the kettle on the stove and making her way to the dresser. "But the bite marks on his neck were rather telling."

Daphne fingered her own neck, tracing the scarred tissue around her portiums where her gills were hidden and hydrated. She scrunched her lips up as she stared at Trinket skeptically.

Laughing softly, Trinket retrieved Booker's black tea as well as a jar of green tea from the dresser. "Well, Mr. Larkin isn't so convinced, either. As always, he's certain there's a logical explanation."

Nodding, Daphne scooped up some roasted potato wedges from the pan on the stove and set them on a plate. She pointed at Trinket with the greasy spoon.

"What do I think?" Trinket asked as she added tea leaves to the strainers she had placed over the teacups.

Daphne gave another nod.

Trinket shrugged, fetching the whistling kettle and setting it on the granite cutting board to let the water cool before pouring it over the leaves. "Honestly, I don't know what to think anymore. My life has been filled with so many bizarre things that, at this point, vampires don't seem all that ridiculous. However, if the creature that attacked the older gentleman from last night is indeed part of Benedict's plan, which is more than likely the case, I'm sure there is some sort of scientific explanation."

"Exactly. Which is why we must go out and find this explanation."

Booker was standing in the doorway, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. He beamed up at them and stepped into the kitchen.

"Shall we be off?" he asked Trinket as she finished pouring the water.

"But I just made tea," she said, gesturing to the now steaming cups.

Grabbing the cup of black tea, he drank it down in a single gulp, wincing as the hot water went down his throat. Trinket's eyes went wide, and she turned to Daphne who was watching Booker with something close to disgust.

He let out a rather strained sigh. "Invigorating, as always. Now come along, let's—ouch, ouch! Easy there!"

Daphne had taken hold of Booker's arm and was forcing him into a chair by the table. With no decorum, she pulled his jacket off and began to roll up his sleeve.

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