Evangeline shivered, and Jacks watched her, but he offered absolutely no comfort as a gust of wind tore through the fog and posters with her likeness flapped against gnarled gates and trees.
MISSING: Princess Evangeline Help us find her!
Evangeline wanted to ask how the signs had been made and put up so quickly, but now that she and Jacks were on the outskirts of the city, where it felt safer to finally speak, she wanted to use her questions wisely.
“Tell me about the vampires.”
Jacks’s mouth twisted distastefully. “Don’t let them bite you.”
“I already know that. What else can you share? Maybe something helpful.”
“There’s nothing helpful about vampires,” Jacks grunted. “I know the stories make them sound brooding and beautiful, but they’re parasitic bloodsuckers.”
Evangeline side-eyed Jacks, wishing the night weren’t as dark or that he weren’t walking so far from her so that she could have a clearer view of his face. Earlier, she’d sensed he wasn’t overly fond of vampires, but he’d not been this annoyed, and he’d defended Chaos to LaLa.
“Are you jealous?” Evangeline asked.
“Why would I be jealous?”
“Because I’m so curious.”
Jacks answered with an acerbic laugh.
Evangeline felt her cheeks go hot, but she wasn’t sure she believed his dismissal. Jacks was used to being the most interesting wherever he went. He was the most powerful, the most unpredictable, and until now, he’d always made Evangeline the most curious. “If you’re not jealous, then what do you have against them? This was your idea, and it’s not as if you don’t have a thing for blood.”
“I also like the sun and being in control of my own life. But vampires will always be ruled by their hunger for blood. Their every desire is dominated by bloodlust. So try not to cut yourself while we’re inside. And don’t look in their eyes.”
“What will happen if I look in their eyes?”
“Just don’t do it.”
“Why not? Does the mighty Prince of Hearts know so little about vampires that all he can do is warn me not to—”
Jacks moved before she could finish. He suddenly stood so close that for a pounding heartbeat she could only see his cruel face. His brilliant eyes shone in the dark, and his predatory smile could have belonged to a vampire had his teeth been just a little sharper. “There’s a reason no one ever talks about them.” His voice became low and lethal. “I can tell you that they’re soulless monsters. I can warn you that if you look into a vampire’s eyes, they’ll take it as an invitation to rip into your throat faster than you can scream the word no. But none of this will scare you away. Their stories are cursed, but instead of warping the truth, they manipulate the way people feel. No matter what I tell you about vampires, you’re going to be intrigued instead of horrified. Your kind always wants to be bitten or changed.”
“Not me,” Evangeline argued.
“But you’re curious,” Jacks challenged.
“I’m curious about a lot of things. I’m curious about you, but I don’t want you to bite me!”
The corner of Jacks’s mouth twitched. “I’ve already done that, Little Fox.”
His cold fingers found her wrist and slipped underneath the edge of her glove to stroke the last remaining broken heart scar. “Lucky for you, no matter how many times I bite you, you’ll never turn into what I am. But sometimes all it takes from a vampire is one look, and you’re theirs.”
Jacks eyed the bare stretch of skin that went from her chest to her neck. And before she could read the look on his face, he dropped her wrist and stalked off into a dark kingdom of crypts and tombstones.
* * *
They walked in near silence until Jacks found a broad mausoleum covered in vines of demon’s bittercress and guarded by two sad stone angels. One angel mourned over a pair of broken wings while the other played a harp with broken strings.
Jacks idly plucked at one of the damaged strings. After strumming several soundless notes, the door to the mausoleum slid open.
There normally might have been a gate to separate visitors from the coffins, but instead there was another door. Old and wooden with a touch of iron scrollwork, it resembled a number of the doors she’d seen at Wolf Hall—except for the glowing keyhole. Honey-thick light poured through the little curving shape, gleaming brighter the closer they drew to the door, flickering and promising, and far more inviting than the door to Jacks’s church had been. That door didn’t want to be opened, but this one did.