Vampire Hunting: Ways to Effectively Repel Them.

By H. M. Coleridge.

To Wells— This is not exactly light reading, but I know it will help.

Many happy returns, dear brother.

Love, Naomi.

27 March.

It was maddening how much I didn't despise Wilkes while watching him dance with my sister. She seemed to genuinely like him, and even though he seemed a bit bemused by the attention, returned the feeling. I knew I shouldn't overreact. Naomi was very good at hiding her emotions most times, but I knew when she longed for company that wasn't mine. She'd even told me that she just wanted to feel normal for a few hours, which had culminated in bringing Wilkes round to our house.

Which was why it was also maddening seeing him clearly in his element. He was comfortable among all these well-off, well-dressed people with titles and money and an army of servants at their beck and call. To see him hobnobbing with them, like it was something he did every day, was both intriguing and irritating.

After they finished dancing, they came back to join me. I saw the flush in Naomi's cheeks clearly, and the brightness in her eyes. So whatever she felt for Wilkes wasn't just infatuation, then.

"So what now?" Wilkes asked. I noticed, completely unintentionally, how that same sheaf of hair was escaping again, a few wayward strands already falling into his eyes. Then I shook it away. Why was I like this, taking in that detail in these circumstances?

"We do what we were hired on for," I said, patting the front of my tuxedo jacket. I had made small crucifixes out of hawthorn twigs, one for each window and outside door. I'd also filled small glass flasks with iron powder, to sprinkle on top of every inside door frame.

Once we'd gotten out of the crowd, I gave Naomi and Wilkes each a handful of crucifixes.

"Don't miss any access to the outside, understand?" I said, with pointed looks for both of them. "They all have extra string, so you can hang them. It'll be more effective that way."

They nodded, then dispersed. I took out the first flask and got to work.

—

About an hour later, we met up again in the middle, on the first floor. There was no sign of vampire activity, and midway through, it'd crossed my mind that Lord Grafton might have been overreacting.

"Seen anything?" Wilkes asked, when we regrouped in the dim upstairs corridor, at the top of the stairs.

"No," I said. "Nothing."

"We've just got that last room there," Naomi said, nodding to a bedroom papered in red wallpaper at the end of the hall. "If we don't see anything by the time we're done, I'll start believing Lord Grafton panicked."

The three of us entered the bedroom in single file, and while Wilkes and Naomi tied the crucifixes in the window, I stood on tiptoe and sprinkled a thin line of powder on top of the doorframe. I hoped we hadn't wasted an entire night when there could have been other worse creatures to hunt down.

It was when I stepped outside the room to sprinkle the outside doorframe that I caught a glimpse of a strange dark shape through the crack between the frame and the edge of the door. I inched back inside and swung the door away from the wall, and suddenly a hand with fingers tipped in sharp claws whipped out and seized me around the neck.

"Human..." hissed a voice, one that sent cold shivers down my spine. "Ssssso long..."

The vampire stepped out from behind the door, spinning around and slamming my back into it. I heard Naomi and Wilkes shout my name in unison, just as I began to paw at the hand. My vision whirled, and my feet seemed to be hovering above the ground.

Then, so quickly I had no time to think, the vampire swung me around again and threw me across the room. I crashed into the dresser and collapsed to the floor, pain throbbing through my entire body.

"Wells!" Naomi was crouching over me, worry in her eyes and her brow furrowed with concern. Her hand came down, cupping my face. "Please say something..."

I heard a thud, shattering glass, a grunt, and a hiss, one sound quickly following another. I couldn't see past Naomi, but I knew without having to see it that Wilkes was taking on the vampire on his own. There was a second thud, louder, of a body hitting the floor.

"Wilkes..." I managed.

He came banging into the wall next to us, making Naomi yelp in surprise. He clutched a bloody iron dagger in one hand, and I felt a well of something like pride. So he'd gotten a hit in on the vampire.

Then the thing was on him, seizing his neck and throwing him out of my line of sight again. I heard a splintering of wood and another grunt.

My sister was up in a swirl of skirts, and as she stood I saw a flash of metal in her hand. She'd brought her own weapon, just like she always did. Then she was sweeping across the room and I couldn't see her anymore.

I rolled to my front, then pushed myself up on my elbows. As I did, I felt around in my belt for the stake I'd brought, and once I had it in hand I pulled my knees under me and sat up.

The vampire was trying to fight off Wilkes and Naomi at the same time. He was stabbing at its shoulder repeatedly from behind while she parried its arm with her own dagger, lips drawn back in a wolf-like snarl. I knew I had to get in there, because the only way it could be killed would be this wooden stake to its heart.

"Oi! Bloodsucker!" I called, getting to my feet. I gripped the stake tightly in one hand. "Want to give me a taste?"

It was on me in a second. Its hand wrapped around my neck and it shoved me up against the dresser, the strength in its fingers surprising and alarming. Its red eyes bore into mine, shining with bloodlust.

Then, it all came together at once: Wilkes leaped from the bed onto the vampire's back and plunged his dagger in its neck all the way to the hilt; Naomi swooped in and caught my wrist, pulling me behind her; and the vampire screeched and reared backward, its arms pinwheeling wildly.

I saw my chance as it toppled forward, Wilkes still clinging to its back. I ducked out from Naomi's protection and thrust the stake upward, under the vampire's ribs. It was such a confusing mess I didn't know what was happening at first: Wilkes grunted as he hit the floor with a third thud, a heavy weight dropped down on top of me, and I heard Naomi cry out in pain.

The weight lifted off me a second later. Wilkes stood above me, breathing hard and bleeding from his nose and a split on his left brow. Wordlessly, like I'd done the first night I'd met him, he put out a hand to me. I took his wrist and let him help me up.

That was when I saw my sister, probably the worse for wear out of all of us. She was clutching her shoulder tightly and wincing, dark blood oozing out between her fingers. I saw why when she sank down on a corner of the bed: the vampire's claws had ripped into her skin, deep gashes that stretched from her collarbone to just shy of her elbow.

But the first thing she asked was: "Is it dead?"

I nudged the vampire's shoulder, and Wilkes reached down to yank the dagger out of the back of its neck. The sound was very much like a cork popping out of a bottle.

"As a doornail," he said brightly.

—

We made it home just in time. Wilkes had nicked a couple of spare pillowcases from Lord Grafton's linen closet—"I'm sure he won't miss them," he'd said—to temporarily bind Naomi's arm. By the time we climbed from the cab, they were soaked again.

"Don't you have to get off home?" I said to him, as he caught Naomi's other elbow as we tottered up the front walk.

"Wells," she scolded through clenched teeth. To Wilkes, she said, "We ought to look at your head, Langdon."

As soon as we stepped inside, I directed them to the kitchen at the back of the house, while I ran upstairs to fetch the vampire-wound kit. Bringing Wilkes back here hadn't been part of the plan, but neither had that ambush by the vampire either. I realised we should have searched the house for one, or any, before we'd decided to seal it off.

Back in the kitchen, I found Wilkes gently unwrapping Naomi's wounded arm. The vampire's claws had torn her dress too, the sleeve hanging in bloody tatters off the bodice.

"It hasn't stopped bleeding," he was saying, and I heard a note of worry.

"It's the anticoagulant," I said, startling both of them. "It's the same when they bite you. Keeps the blood from clotting."

"They're essentially very large leeches," said Naomi, wincing as the last of her bandages came off.

"Put your arm out on the table," I said, setting the kit on the table next to her. "We'll see how bad it is."

Obediently, she did without protest. I gently cleaned the blood from her skin with a cold wet rag, making her hiss with pain. But the wounds weren't as deep as I'd thought they were, fortunately, and the bleeding was already slowing. As I worked I noticed her catch Wilkes's hand and hold on tight. I hid the fact that the sight of it affected me, although I didn't know why.

"There," I said, once I'd wrapped her up and tied the bandage off tightly. "Done."

Both she and Wilkes seemed relieved that it wasn't worse, and I was too. For the most part, I'd taken the worst hits to keep Naomi safe, but this time the roles had reversed. I'd noticed how she'd stepped in without a second thought, and that made me proud. That, and she'd done it in a dress — which was not the usual attire for hunting. It was more than I'd done, at any rate.

"Now you," she said to Wilkes as she stood. "Let's have a look at your head."

Wilkes took the chair she'd vacated, and this time she was the one who attended to him, gently dabbing at his eyebrow with a clean rag while he held another one to his sluggishly bleeding nose.

"That was a nasty one, wasn't he?" Wilkes said to me as Naomi butterfly-bandaged the wound on his brow. "Strong too."

I shrugged, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. "At least we know Grafton wasn't being paranoid."

"Hunter families usually aren't," said Naomi. "It's only that Wells is the most staunch sceptic you'll ever meet."

I scowled. "I am not—"

"You are," Naomi cut me off, with a scowl of her own. "For Heaven's sake, Wells, his nephew attends the Institute. And you think he doesn't know a vampire infestation when he sees one?"

Wilkes cleared his throat. "I think I...er...I'd better go. Father'll be wondering where I am."

"Are you sure?" Naomi's voice sounded different, higher and strained. "You don't want a cup of tea before you go? Peppermint's nice, for the nerves..."

"No, I should go." Wilkes stood. "Thank you both for the evening."

When he was gone, Naomi turned to me. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes pleading.

"I don't think he appreciates it much when you cling to him like that," I said, the words out before I'd truly thought about them.

"Clinging?" One of her eyebrows went up. "I wasn't clinging. It was his head injury, it was beginning to bruise—"

"Come off it," I said. "I know you've got feelings for him. Deep feelings."

"Wells, don't..." Naomi sagged against the table. She was exhausted, not even going to put up a fight. "Is it so wrong? He and I, we...we agree on many things. And...you never want to talk about anything but hunting, and sometimes, I don't want to..."

"All right then," I said, folding my arms and perching on the edge of the table too. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You can't force it, you know." She rubbed her bandaged arm and winced. "It's got to be natural."

"Right," I said, and as I straightened, I hissed at another pain from my shoulder.

Naomi sighed and pushed herself upright. "Sit. And take your shirt off, so I can see what happened."

I stripped down until I wore nothing from the waist up, then sat. I felt Naomi's fingers pressing gently, one along my shoulder blade and the other along my collarbone across my right shoulder and then the painful left one. I hissed when she touched it.

"That's the one that hurts?" she said softly, and I nodded. "I think you've dislocated it."

"Just set it," I said through gritted teeth.

"If you ask nicely." She sounded tired.

"Please."

Once that was done, she straightened and went about making tea. I sat and watched her for a few minutes. Then I said, "It's been quite a day."

She sighed and looked at me over her shoulder, and I saw a bruise spreading across her scapula under the bandage.

"Do you know why I didn't want Langdon to leave?" she asked softly. By her tone, I had a feeling it was rhetorical, so I didn't answer. "Because I don't like the way you get after a hunt. You cut yourself off from everything, and you don't talk to me. You may not mind killing things, but I do. I do it because you need me to. But I can't be like you. I can't separate myself from it."

"Naomi." I sighed. "It's a job. These things we're hunting...they're too far gone to be considered human."

"That's not what I mean," she said. "I can't do it the way you do it, because it's the people involved, not the things we kill. Sometimes...they don't even know what's happening to them."

"You're talking about Gifford, aren't you?" I took another deep breath.

"Yes," she said, her voice cracking. "I did some reading...after it happened, and...he won't have any memory of who his friends are...his family...his life before he was turned. I saw the pain in Langdon's eyes, Wells, that day I met him in the park. Becoming a vampire...it's a fate worse than death."

"You shouldn't do that to yourself," I said.

"Do what?" She turned around, pain etched into her face. "I'm only doing what you volunteered me for. So don't tell me what I shouldn't be doing to myself. Because it certainly would not be this."

The kettle began to whistle just then, and we didn't speak as she prepared the tea. I knew she was right, like she always was. If it weren't for the hunting, my gentle, sensitive sister never would have had to go against her nature. She hated the thought of killing anything, and I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. This was the kind of life I wanted, not her.

"Naomi," I said, once she'd slid a cup to me and sat down across from me.

"What is it, Wells?" Her eyes flicked up to me, the furrow in her brow deep.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm projecting my own thoughts onto you, and I shouldn't. You ought to have your own life, when you're of age."

She sighed heavily. I noticed one of her earrings was missing, just a small blood-crusted hole left behind in her earlobe. "I can't do anything else, you know that. I don't have any of the skills to be a proper lady. No self-respecting gentleman would want me."

"I think Wilkes would beg to differ on that point," I said, feeling a tightening in my chest at her words. "You're a sensational hunter, you know. Better than me. All of those Institute boys too. And what you did...in that dress, no less...any self-respecting gentleman would be lucky to have you."

Her cheeks tinged pink. "It certainly is inconvenient, fighting a vampire in a dress. I know why I don't wear them on our hunts."

"Nonsense. I think you did a shade better than me."

"Juliette!" Father's voice came rushing down the stairs. "Juliette, come here!"

That got the both of us on our feet and rushing from the room, Naomi first and me close behind, pulling my shirt back on as I went. We thundered up the stairs and down the narrow upstairs corridor to our father's room at the very end.

"Juliette!" he shouted, as Naomi opened his bedroom door and we crowded inside. He was out of bed, standing at the window in his nightshirt. "Come back!"

"Papa," Naomi said, going to join him at the window. She cupped his cheek and turned his face towards her. "Mama's not here. It's me, your daughter. Naomi."

"Juliette," he whispered, touching Naomi's cheek gently. "Still as young as the day I met you..."

"Father," I said, coming up behind him to lay a hand on his arm. "Mother's gone. Has been for nearly sixteen years now."

"No," he insisted. "She's here. Standing right in front of me. Here. So real I can feel her touching me."

"Papa." I saw pain enter my sister's eyes, and tears welled in them.

We helped him back to bed, hearing him murmuring to our mother all the while. I couldn't look at Naomi, although I saw her wiping at her face as we tucked Father in tightly enough so he couldn't get up again.

"It's so much harder when he doesn't know who I am," she said, once we were out in the hall again. "He thinks I'm Mama...all the time."

"Look, I..." I sighed and dropped my eyes to the floor. "I think that after tonight, we ought to take a day or two to recover. No new hunts. I'll even put up the Closed sign."

"Are you sure?" I saw Naomi's breath hitch, and her brow furrow again. She was far too young to have a feature as permanent as that. "I know how you like to..."

"Yes," I said. "Besides, I've got a sprained shoulder. I'll need to keep it in a sling for a few days, and that'll be no use to anyone."

—

30 March.

One day stretched into three. After our conversation I hadn't had the motivation to try and hire out our services for business. I took long walks, on the Heath and through the streets, thinking of Wilkes's friend Gifford as well as Wilkes himself. I realised — although I would never admit it to my sister out loud — that even if Wilkes had all the opportunities to become a hunter that far surpassed our abilities, maybe he didn't want them. After all, he'd seemed perfectly content with hunting alongside us, and against my better judgement, I found that it didn't sound all bad. Especially where Gifford was concerned. We wouldn't be able to get him back now, but at the very least we'd be able to find out if he'd been sent into a vampire den on purpose. Which meant we'd need access to the Institute. Which meant Wilkes. Blast it.

It took me a moment to realise my feet had carried me straight to the Institute. Whether it'd been the thought of Wilkes, the Institute itself, or Wilkes at the Institute, I was here now. Which meant I was more invested than I'd thought.

"Sir!"

A voice came from behind me, accompanied by running footsteps. Once again, I'd been distracted, and I'd stepped through the Institute gates.

I spun around. There was a young man hurrying after me, his brown hair falling forward into his eyes.

"Are you a student, sir?" He skidded to a halt less than a metre away from me.

"No, but I'm here to see one," I said. "Does that count?"

"Which one would that be, sir?"

"Langdon Wilkes." I'd never understood until now why my sister called him that. Langdon. It slid out so easily.

The man's eyes widened. "The headmaster's son? You real important and such?"

"I wouldn't say important. I've got something important to tell him, which I think is the same thing."

"Classes won't be letting out for another half-hour, sir," he said. "Should I send a note telling him you asked after him?"

"No. Just tell him to meet me at the Natural History Museum when he's got a moment. And that it was Wells Hudson who asked for him."

"Of course, sir." The man rushed off again. That'd been a surprisingly amicable conversation — I'd thought he'd been coming to tell me off. No one but students allowed inside.

Then again, I was finding out I'd been wrong about a lot of things lately.

—

Wilkes didn't keep me waiting. Less than a half-hour passed before I saw him approaching my spot on the steps of the Natural History Museum, that familiar forelock of hair falling over his forehead. Back in his school uniform and with his schoolbag slung messenger-style across his chest, he looked much younger than he had at the house party the other night.

"Wilkes," I said in greeting.

"Wells," he answered.

"So, er..." I noticed the split on his brow had bruised, darkening the area around his eye. "I could use your help."

"My...?" His eyebrows went up, surprised. "With what, exactly?"

I told him, everything Naomi and I had talked about after he'd left and what I'd been thinking about on the way here. He listened without interruption, just nodding in all the right places. Then I ended by saying we couldn't move any further forward with the investigation into Gifford's becoming a vampire unless we had a look inside the Institute — mainly his father's office.

"Father never lets anyone but me in there," he said when I finished. "We'd have to go after-hours. Possibly round midnight. Could you do that?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "When?"

"He's going to a conference in Derby, three days from now. Leaves round seven in the evening." Wilkes tugged at his waistcoat — it really was hideous, that shade of gold — and then his school tie. "If you come round to mine say...half-nine, we can kill some time and then walk over there at midnight."

"Half-nine? Why not later?"

"Because I figure by then, he'll be en route and if he forgot anything, it'll be too late for him to come back." He shrugged. "He rarely leaves anything behind, but...this is just a precaution."

"You like playing things close to the edge, don't you?" I said, noticing the spark of intrigue in his eyes.

"Always," he said, with a grin. "So it's settled? Can I expect you?"

"Yes." I nodded. "We'll be there."

"Brilliant." One of his eyebrows went up. "It'll be just like the other night. The three of us."

"Exactly. Yes." Although it wouldn't really. Because this time we'd be on his home territory — the Institute, his father's things. That'd give him the clear home ground advantage.

I arrived home to a scene I hadn't witnessed since before the ghosts turned our father mad. Naomi, in a loose white dress and her curly blonde hair tumbling free of pins over her shoulders and down her back, sat with Father in the dining room, a tea service between them. She was drawing, a beautiful swirling design that seemed to appear from the tip of her pencil like magic. Different variations of it papered her walls, some in many colours and others in just one. Father was alternating between staring into his teacup and watching her.

"Wells," he said as soon as he saw me, in a rare moment of clarity.

Naomi turned around in her chair, smiling at me. "There you are."

"Spending some quality time together?" I said, leaning on the doorframe.

"Papa wanted to come down and sit in the sun," she said with a shrug. "I didn't see any reason why not."

"You're drawing." I nodded to her drawing pad. "I can't remember the last time I saw you do that."

"You're taking a break," she said simply. "So am I."

"I need a word," I said then. "It is about our work. Five minutes, I swear. Then you can go back to taking a break."

"All right." Some of the levity left her expression. Then she stood, setting her drawing pad on the table next to her teacup. "I'll be back soon, Papa."

"The baby's crying, Juliette," he said softly. "You should look in on him."

Neither of us knew why he remembered me as a baby and not Naomi. I had a feeling part of it was because Naomi didn't even exist to him. She was the image of his beloved wife instead.

"I think today's one of his better days," she said, when we were in the sitting room across the hall. She sighed heavily and raked a hand through her hair. "Although...he keeps saying things about hearing a baby somewhere."

"That's the ghost madness talking," I said. "It's conflating some of his memories."

"I wish we could get him help," she said, through a heavy sigh.

"We will, I promise." I'd said that many times in the past three years, when the ghost madness had begun to eat at Father in earnest. But here we were now, with him no better than before. "But this thing I wanted to talk to you about...it has to do with the Institute."

"What about it?" Her brow furrowed.

"I asked Wilkes to help us get in, poke around in his father's office. I'm still speculating his father sent Wilkes's mate in there on purpose."

"When would this be?" I saw doubt and interest waging war in Naomi's eyes.

"Three days from now. His father's leaving for a conference, and won't be back for at least four more." I had to guess on that fact. Wilkes hadn't actually told me how long his father would be gone.

"It's really very good you thought of this, Wells," she said after a short silence. Once again she raked a hand through her hair, twisting her fingers in it as she did. She almost never wore it loose — too much in the way, she'd said once. But when she did, she was constantly fiddling with it, like now.

"Why is that?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Because I'm getting absolutely nowhere with what I have. If Langdon's inkling is the same as yours, I think we'll be onto something once we're in there."

I gave her a half-smile, and she returned it. "There's the Naomi Hudson I know and love."

"I wasn't hiding, you know," she said. "You just weren't looking hard enough."

—

2 April.

For some reason, spending time at Wilkes's home with no supervision made me nervous and oddly happy, which was a strange combination to me. Naomi didn't seem to think it was anything unusual. But she was with someone who was her own age, and who might have been interested in her. So it was different.

"You all right, Wells?" she asked, lacing up her boots as we finished getting ready in the front hallway. We weren't hunting tonight, so the all-black wasn't necessary. But we were breaking and entering, which meant it'd probably be to our advantage.

"Fine," I said, buckling my weapons belt on. I always had a wooden stake and an iron dagger on me, no matter where we went, just in case.

"Is this about Langdon again?" She raked both hands through her hair and then began to braid it, swiftly and without even looking.

"No," I said, much too quickly. I was irritated by him still, but it had more to do with his privilege than his personality. In fact, I rather liked his personality — although it would be the death of our partnership if I mentioned it.

"You don't have to lie for me," Naomi said, finished with her boot laces and her braid. "I know you, Wells. You like being around Langdon, but you pretend that you don't."

"Is that so bad?" I fastened my cloak on. "Perhaps I don't want him knowing that."

"Keep this up, and he very well may figure it out for himself," she said. "You can't at least try to show him your genuine feelings? Do you need to be so prickly around him?"

"It's my only defence, you know. Against...other feelings."

That gave her pause, and she met my eyes straight-on. "Wells, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"It's the way I am," I said quickly. "Not your fault."

She bit her lip, but said nothing. I'd never allowed myself the other feelings I'd referred to. I'd seen what happened to men who were exposed for something the law called gross indecency. As if having romantic feelings for other men was indecent in some way. I'd repressed them for so long it was almost like not having them at all.

Almost. Until I met Langdon Wilkes.

"We should get going," I said. "We'll be late otherwise."

On the way, we didn't speak much. She'd been right — I didn't talk to her unless it had to do with hunting. And that made me feel like a bad older brother. I'd never even asked her how she felt about doing all of this. I'd just fobbed something off on her without talking to her about it first.

It was when we arrived that I hesitated. Something about sneaking in to the Institute felt wrong, like some kind of betrayal. I wasn't sure of what. But I'd already asked Wilkes for this favour, and he'd said yes to it. So that was why I let Naomi go ahead of me to knock on the front door.

We didn't have to wait long. Wilkes answered the door in a matter of seconds, and momentarily I was disarmed at how relaxed he looked. He was dressed in normal clothing, not his school uniform, and it was strange to see him out of it.

"Hello," he said with a smile. "Good to see both of you. Won't you come in?"

Naomi gave him a warm hug as she passed him, and he returned it, just as warmly. I felt a twinge down in my stomach at the sight. She slipped inside when they let go, and that left me facing him just inside the doorway.

"Hello, Wells," said Wilkes, one of his hands fluttering up and down hesitantly.

I put out my own hand decisively. "Wilkes."

He took it and gave it a brief squeeze, a corner of his mouth pulling up just slightly. I saw the friendly, boyish eagerness in his eyes, and that made the ice over my emotions crack just the slightest bit.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked as he led me into the sitting room. It was well-appointed: windows hung with dark red drapes that matched the wallpaper, reddish-brown wainscoting, an impressively carved stone fireplace, rugs with highly-detailed designs over a dark brown hardwood, the same wood the bookcases were made of. "I've brewed it myself...first time doing it, in fact."

"I'm sure it's perfectly fine, Langdon," said my sister, already making herself busy with pouring it.

"Oh...well, I suppose we'll see about that then." He tugged at his collar, then the knot of his dark blue necktie — which was held in place with a small gold tie pin.

We sat once the tea was poured, me in the armchair near the fire and Naomi and Wilkes next to each other on the settee. He took the first sip and immediately made a face, swallowing slowly and painfully.

"That's bloody terrible," he said. "I should never make tea again."

The tea was, truthfully, awful. Neither of us said anything in agreement, but I noticed Naomi set hers down and not take another sip. We didn't talk for a while after that, and the only sound was the ticking of the mantel clock and the crackling of the fire. Wilkes shifted in his spot and cleared his throat, then pulled at his slate-grey waistcoat lapels restlessly. He wanted to say something, I could tell.

"If we're going to do this, I ought to tell you..." He took a deep breath. "Father has a system. He'll know if things were rifled through."

"How?" Naomi asked.

I was wondering the same thing. Even though I'd never met him, Wilkes's father didn't strike me as the absentminded-professor type. Still, I'd have thought leaving everything exactly how we found it would be enough — which clearly was not the case.

"He's got these...contraptions," said Wilkes. "Anti-theft devices. I had to disable the one he put on the front door before you got here."

"What sorts of contraptions?" I asked.

"Chain reactions," he said. "The one on the door shot an iron-tipped arrow straight at the visitor."

"Why iron, exactly?" That seemed like a somewhat ill-informed decision.

Wilkes shrugged. "Has an effect on more things...ghouls, fae, vampires, ghosts, the like. Father's paranoid our house will be attacked."

"Well, he does run an institution that teaches humans to kill them," Naomi pointed out.

"Still," said Wilkes, with a you-got-me kind of nod. "I'll have to disable them, because I've seen how Father sets them up."

I nodded, resigned. "Exactly why we need you for this sort of thing."