Haunting Echoes

“Janet, what a pleasant surprise.” Lawrence rose from his seat and took her hand, leading her into the room. His Scottish brogue was flawless, and Amaia never tired of hearing it.

 

“One of the servants mentioned we had some esteemed guests today. I thought it only proper that I welcome them to our home.” She took Lawrence’s proffered seat next to his around the large rectangular table that occupied one end of the hall. “You’ll have to pardon my appearance, gentlemen. I didn’t know this morning that I would be in your presence this afternoon.”

 

“Nonsense, my lady. You look as handsome as any woman I’ve seen. There’s no need to rub it in to us lowly men by wearing even finer jewels.” The man’s appearance did him no favors. He was too thin and gangly to be attractive. His hair was on the verge of being orange, and his beard grew in thin patches that should be shaved. He seemed to be unaware of his disadvantageous looks. His manner made it apparent that he fancied he played the political game well, and he hoped to move up in the world.

 

Amaia blushed, one of her more recent achievements. There was a certain trick to making the blood in her body pool in her cheeks in just the right amount to display false modesty. “You flatter me, Sir.”

 

“Sir Patrick here has requested the pleasure of your company at the banquet celebrating King Charles’s marriage.”

 

“Oh really? You support the choice of the king to marry a Catholic?” Amaia smiled at Patrick.

 

“No, my lady, of course not. However, he has, and it’s as good excuse as any for a holiday.”

 

“Yes, and an excellent opportunity to consort with the most influential men in Scotland. It should be quite the affair.”

 

Lawrence turned from Patrick to face Amaia. “Yes. I told him you had already been booked but that, perhaps, he might convince you to go with him instead.”

 

“I fear it will take much to sway me. I’m to attend with Andrew Boyne, and he is one of my favorites.” She purposely left off his title.

 

Banquets were even more enjoyable as a vampire. While she couldn’t subsist off food, she could still enjoy it. Like every other part of her body, her taste buds were enhanced, and eating was a novel experience. Vampires were perfectly efficient, the venom in their veins completely disintegrating the food without waste and preventing alcohol intoxication.

 

“Practice warming your skin. Let me know what you think of their energy.”

 

Practice seemed a silly word to use since she had never successfully done it, and they didn’t even know if it was possible. Lawrence had a theory that she could leech the energy from nearby humans and use it to warm her own skin. She had succeeded in reaching out and feeling their energy, but she hadn’t yet been able to warm herself with it. As it was, the only way she could heat her skin was to increase her heartbeat so the blood flowed more rapidly through her veins, just like every other vampire. It required more frequent feeding, which was inconvenient.

 

While their conversation continued, she reached out with her senses, grazing the energy of each man present. Patrick’s was by far the strongest, making him the easiest to use. Visualization was often the key with any new skill she learned. She felt that if she could just fix the right picture in her mind, she would be successful.

 

She tried picturing the rays of the sun warming her skin. If only she could get this man’s energy to act as the warmth the sun emitted, then her skin should warm.

 

Nothing. She felt his energy move but nothing else.

 

“Any luck?”

 

“No.”

 

“Try something else then.”

 

“If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”

 

“Don’t get cheeky with me, girl.” Lawrence’s tone was stern. Amaia focused back on her work.

 

A stout man to the left of Patrick slid his hands slowly together as he talked, barely aware of the action, just an absentminded gesture to keep his hands occupied. That sparked an idea. Humans constantly rubbed their hands together to keep warm. It seemed silly, but maybe if she pictured this man’s energy rubbing against her, it would work. If she could create friction with it against her skin, it just might heat.

 

She clasped her hands before her and reached out to feel his energy. Once she had a firm grasp on it, she fixed the image of it rubbing against her right hand in her mind. Nothing. She concentrated harder, letting the image consume her. As soon as she released herself to the visualization, she felt her right hand heat up inside her left.

 

“Oh!” The exclamation left her lips before she could think to stop it.

 

“What is it, my dear?” Lawrence put a hand on her back and peered at her.

 

Amaia took her right hand and placed it over his on the table. “Nothing. I suddenly felt a little dizzy.”

 

Lawrence smiled at the heat radiating from her hand. “Are you tired? Should you go lie down?”

 

“No, thank you. I’m fine. I think the best solution is good company. Don’t you, Sir Patrick?”

 

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