“All in far better condition than you, I’ll have you know. Even the appalling Felix Mersey. Not to mention the dratted Monique.” Soap’s lip curled on those names.
Sophronia sighed. “I’ll have to give her a different moniker. She did, kind of, save my life, in the end.”
“How awful for you.” He stroked her matted hair with one callused hand.
“I know!”
Soap became plaintive. “Do you think you might leave the world to right itself for a while now?”
“I don’t know if I can afford to. What’s happened since I fell from the sky?”
“I’ve not been paying the best of attention. I’ve been looking for you. We thought you died.”
Sophronia struggled to sit up on her own. “Dimity and Agatha think I’m dead?”
Soap nodded, nuzzling her neck on her good side. That did feel nice. It was the only part of her not injured.
But this was serious—her friends were in distress. “I can’t have that. Poor dears, we must go to them immediately.” She was also worried about the oncoming dawn. “And we should get you indoors.”
“Mmm. Quite apart from my werewolf condition, the city will be waking up soon. As it stands, we are both likely to be locked up for indecent exposure. The dewan is at the palace with the queen, has been since the mechanicals attacked. He’s no use to us.”
Sophronia was hesitant. “We could go to my sister’s, but I don’t think she could cope with my appearance. I’m certain she couldn’t cope with yours. I wouldn’t want to shock her into early childbirth.”
Soap agreed. “You know the nearest discreet location as well as I. Should we chance it?”
Sophronia was skeptical but willing. “At least I can be assured a bath and a nice change of clothes. We’d better go now, before sunrise. His drones won’t let us in without his approval.”
Soap stood, and Sophronia looked away quickly, as yet not entirely prepared. A girl can know too much about the man she loves, Dimity once said.
He bent and scooped her up.
“I can walk.”
“I must carry you to disguise my lack of clothing.”
“Oh, very well, although I suggest that when you pull the bell rope, you stop trying.”
Soap only strode off. Her weight was nothing to him, and he certainly moved a great deal faster than she could at that point.
The vampire himself answered the door, wearing a robe of royal-blue quilted silk with teal embroidered peacock feathers and gold lace trim, clearly near to taking his repose. Despite this, there was a hum of activity to the house behind him that suggested things were afoot.
“Kitten! Is that you? Horrid eye paint, my pet. You should fire your maid this instant. And here I was just about to retire. Yet I’m certain you are full of delicious stories and know everything there is to be known about everything. It’s too bad of you. Couldn’t you have come a little bit sooner, poppet?”
Sophronia gave a little smile. “Dear Lord Akeldama, I’m afraid I was all tied up. Or do I mean tying up? But please, may we seek refuge for the day? As you can see, I’m not quite the thing.”
Lord Akeldama’s eyes were hooded. “My dear girl, you aren’t in serious legal trouble, are you?” The hesitation referred to Soap. They had not been introduced, so the vampire could not address him directly. Lord Akeldama’s reluctance was to be expected. After all, it wasn’t normal, even in his long lifetime, to have a naked black man carrying a badly beaten girl turn up on one’s doorstep.
Sophronia presented her bribe. “If I told you that the dewan is my patron and Soap here is the reason, would you let me in to hear the story?”
Lord Akeldama threw the door wide. “Do come in—I insist!—and your fine young man. Oh, my, is he wearing anything at all? Sophronia, did you bring me a present?”
“No,” said Sophronia, cheerfully. “I brought you a werewolf, but he entirely belongs to me.”
The vampire pouted at her and didn’t look the least surprised. “Selfish girl. Lucky but selfish.” However, he also stepped back so they could enter. “Welcome—yes, you are adorable—welcome.”
Soap, who had just walked through London carrying her and wearing nothing, looked embarrassed for the first time that night under the vampire’s appreciative gaze.
Still, an invitation from a vampire was never to be treated lightly. Soap knew enough to say, “Thank you kindly, my lord.”
“My very great pleasure.” Lord Akeldama closed the door behind them. “Of course I knew the dewan had a new pup.”
Soap started at that.
“Don’t worry, my beauty. Your secret is safe in my household. But the fact that my little kitten here was involved, that I did not know.”
Sophronia was ready to fulfill her part of the bargain. “Few do. Soap was injured badly, shot by a Pickleman. I leveraged my indenture to convince the dewan to bite Soap outside of claviger status.”
Lord Akeldama evaluated Soap again, with something more than appreciation. “And he survived? Remarkable. And quite romantic. You two make for an unusual pairing.”
Soap began to bristle at the implied criticism, his arms tightening around Sophronia.
“Now, now, little wolf, I like unusual pairings.” The vampire smiled without showing fang.
Soap relaxed slightly.
“Just back there, my sweethearts, into the drawing room. And now, much as I would delight in hearing positively everything else that has happened to you lately, I’m afraid I am about to drop dead. Bed awaits. Pilpo will look after you.” Without further ado, Lord Akeldama whisked up the stairs, seeking his private chamber.