The Falls (The Searchers Book 3) Read online

  But there wasn’t one in now, unless it was customary for Americans to hang their own clothes. It probably was.

  Damn it, he was out of his element. It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to, and he hated it. It was the biggest reason he avoided leaving London as much as possible. He couldn’t understand Max Sterling’s affinity for taking off for parts unknown for months at a time.

  He looked at the bed longingly, already eager to get some much-needed rest, but that would have to wait.

  He found Violet ladling a rich-smelling stew into bowls at a beautifully-set table. Electric lamps cast a warm glow over the room and her, who smiled at him. “My apologies,” she said. “My housekeeper only comes in during the day, and I rarely play hostess to foreign Searchers. Would you care for some wine?”

  “Please.”

  They sat down opposite one another, and Samuel resisted the urge to wolf down his food.

  “How was your journey?” Violet asked.

  “Chilly.” The response was automatic. He didn’t think she would mind if he complained a little about the cold, but he didn’t want to start whining this early in their acquaintance. He continued, “Not entirely unpleasant, but the lounges and staterooms smelled terribly of tobacco.”

  “You don’t indulge, I assume?”

  “I can’t abide the odor.”

  “Then we should get on just fine,” Violet said. “I don’t tolerate smoking in my flat or inside the Searcher headquarters, even if my housekeeper wouldn’t entertain notions of killing me if I did.”

  At the mention of headquarters, Samuel remembered her recent promotion. “Congratulations on your new post, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” She beamed at him from across the table. “Though I should warn you that nepotism worked in my favor, and I’m only lieutenant temporarily. My uncle is head of the New York branch. I’ve already told him that I prefer to be in the field instead of behind a desk.” She took a delicate sip of wine. “I’m told the London branch is still strictly male.”

  He felt himself color a little, remembering how he must have come across to Ada Burgess at their first meeting at Seven Sisters railway station, so many months ago. “I understand that we’re regarded as Neanderthals for that reason. Although I should tell you that Miss Burgess’s visit has sparked some conversation about the need for change.”

  Although it wasn’t just Miss Burgess, he thought. It was Bert Radcliffe’s death, too. But thinking about Ada Burgess didn’t make him sick with guilt.

  “I’m pleased to hear that. It’s time for England to catch up to the rest of the world.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible, actually,” he said. “There were women with the vampire sense, but they were kept in the dark about what it meant.”

  “So they never joined the Searchers, didn’t marry and have children with our men…”

  “And the men who were Searchers didn’t tell their daughters if they inherited it, either,” Samuel said. He braced himself to tell her the bad news. “They died out. We’re dying out.”

  But she didn’t seem surprised to hear that. “Ada guessed as much.”

  Of course she had. Ada was bright, brave, and very good at her job from what he’d gleaned from Searchers intelligence. She and Max had been taken by surprise by a young vampire who bore terrifying strength for his age the previous spring; it happened occasionally. More often than not these days, the hunters were the victors, although it had been a close shave for Ada.

  Radcliffe hadn’t been so lucky.

  Don’t think about him right now!

  “Our problem is one of the reasons I came to America,” he said. Seeing Violet’s widened eyes, he realized how that could be construed and quickly tried to explain himself better. “I’m not viewing that as a potential solution.” He wasn’t here to try to arrange marriages between female American Searchers and British men, but to learn from the American methods. “You’ve hired Searchers without the sense to expand your ranks. We all know the vampire problem is getting worse with the advent of mass transportation.”

  “Are you telling me there was a vampire onboard the Hope?”

  “No. But as vampires turn more and more to their side, we have to come up with better ways to combat it without the public at large finding out and causing mass hysteria.”

  “Again.”

  “Exactly.” Violet had likely heard the same stories as Samuel, the same stories as everyone else in the world. Only the Searchers knew they were true and monsters walked among them. They’d managed to keep vampires’ existence secret since the Middle Ages, and it wasn’t easy. “Part of my reason for accepting the wedding invitation is to see how you operate on this side of the pond.”

  “I’m always happy to help in that regard.” She changed the subject. “Max and Ada’s wedding is in three days’ time. Is there anything else you would like to do while you’re in New York until then?”

  “Make myself useful.”

  Violet’s eyes sparkled at his answer, and a wicked grin spread across her face. She really was enchanting, Samuel thought. Her unusual hair shining in the lamplight made her look like a faery from one of the stories his governess read him as a child.

  A very deadly faery, he reminded himself.

  “Would you like to take a night shift or two while you’re here?”

  He did. He needed a shift that wasn’t in London, bringing back awful memories. “I brought my best stake and mallet with me. I wouldn’t dream of taking anything less than a working holiday.”

  That earned another smile from her. “As long as we’re both in one piece before the wedding. Ada will be very upset if I’m not there.”

  ****

  Ada’s russet hair was pinned on top of her head, curls already escaping from their pins. Her light grey gown fit her perfectly, the color the same as her bridegroom’s shirt. Both of them wore radiant smiles as they made the short walk down the aisle to the church’s entrance, Ada’s brothers and sisters-in-law trailing them.

  It was a small wedding party, uncharacteristic of a wedding to which nearly every vampire hunter on the east coast had been invited. Violet recognized everyone and noted that everyone in attendance had to be concealing wooden stakes and mallets, just in case. A supper was scheduled to be held right after the ceremony that would doubtlessly continue late into the night, and it never hurt to be prepared. She was sure that Max and Ada themselves had to armed with at least some holy water.

  Samuel had surprised her and Ada when he offered to snap a few photographs with his box camera a couple of nights ago. Their initial meeting at headquarters had been frosty, until Samuel offered a sincere apology for his behavior in London and an offer of being an unofficial wedding photographer.

  The wedding supper was held at Violet’s uncle’s house, a huge monstrosity that kept the neighbors talking thanks to its fortifications against vampires. Angus Singer’s home had crucifixes in every window, strips of silver nailed to every sill and doorway, and a lingering smell of garlic hung in the air even though he’d taken down the bulbs he usually kept at every entrance. But no one seemed to care about the smell tonight; this was an evening for celebration.

  Violet waded her way through the crowd, half of whom were already well on their way to being sauced despite supper not yet having been served. She spotted Samuel with his camera, snapping a photo of Edgar and Molly Burgess in front of an electric lamp. She heard him to trying to explain that he needed as much light as possible to get their image to show up on film, then some technical words about photography that went right over Violet’s head. It seemed to fly over Edgar and Molly’s as well, but they obliged, moving a little closer to the light source.

  But talking about his hobby seemed to bring out the first genuine smiles she had seen from him since his arrival in New York. His face lit up as brightly as the lamps as he explained how the image was made on the film and how it would be processed. He promised to send them the photographs after he had them made. D
eveloped, Violet noted. Photographs were developed.

  There was hardly a shred of the snobby man Ada had described so vividly when she returned from London. Maybe he had just needed a change of scenery. God knew she could use one.

  She didn’t realize she was staring at Samuel until a nudge on her shoulder snapped her out of it. “Wish I saw that side of him in London,” said a familiar voice.

  She turned around to see Ada, more curls loose from the knot at the back of her head, but she wouldn’t be Adaline Burgess—no, Adaline Sterling—if she didn’t look at least a little disheveled. It was part of her charm. “I’ve seen very little of the obstinate man you met in England.”

  It was true. He had been the politest houseguests she could hope for, and even went out with a team to Coney Island to look for a vampire sensed in the area the night before. The bloodsucker was gone by the time the Searcher team arrived, but he still tried.

  “Obstinate?” Ada said. “That’s a nice way of describing him.”

  “Difficult.”

  “Even nicer.” She looked across the room at her new husband, now speaking to Edgar and Samuel. Max was a little more relaxed around Samuel when Edgar or Francis, Ada’s brothers, was present. He caught her eye and winked, a gesture Ada returned.

  Ada looped one grey-clad arm around Violet’s. “We were thinking of changing our honeymoon plans to go to Niagara Falls,” she said conspiratorially.

  “It’s the most romantic spot I can think of nearby.”

  “Not for that. Didn’t you see the cables this morning?”

  “Why were you checking the cables at headquarters on your wedding day?”

  Ada shrugged. “We like to be prepared. There are reports of a possible vampire nest on the Canadian side, and Max and I were thinking of investigating.”

  “What … no, Ada. Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I’m lieutenant, Ada. I can.” Arm-in-arm, they walked through the mansion’s great room, greeting guests and saying hello to Searchers from New Jersey and Connecticut. “You and Max should take a proper honeymoon. Stick to your original plans and take that airship to California. I’m sure there are undead to stake there, and Max is arranging more flying lessons for you while you’re there, anyway.”

  “The Canadians could use the help.”

  An idea struck Violet. “I’ll go.”

  Ada swatted her arm with her free hand. “You’re lieutenant, remember?”

  “And I miss being in the field. I’ve already told Uncle Angus I don’t want the position. And again, Ada, why are you thinking about this on your wedding day?”

  “Because this is what I do, Violet.” She scanned the room, smiled at the faces of dozens of Searchers present for supper. “As soon as I mentioned it, you volunteered to go. It’s what we all do. It’s why everyone here, including me, is armed.”

  Violet leaned down enough to whisper in her friend’s ear. “I was wondering where your stake and mallet are hidden.”

  “They’re strapped to my legs, Violet.” Ada’s dark eyes met hers, the usual mischief in them. “Vampires don’t care about weddings.”

  ****

  It was well after midnight when the wedding guests dispersed from Angus Singer’s home. Violet and Samuel shared a steam cab back to Violet’s flat, and she mulled over the possible trip to Niagara Falls.

  She needed to get back to the field. Angus knew she hated being in charge and even though she wasn’t gauche enough to resign at the wedding of one of her best friends, he had to know it was coming. Francis Burgess would probably make a better lieutenant; his first child was on the way and he’d mentioned before that he wanted to be in the field a little less. Like the Singers, the Burgesses were descended from dhampirs, the human-vampire hybrids that possessed the monster-detecting sense. Frank would be a fine commander.

  “You’re very quiet this evening,” Samuel said from next to her.

  “It’s been a long night. Did you snap all of your pictures?” She gestured to the box camera in his lap.

  “Yes.”

  “How many can that thing take, anyway?”

  “One hundred, then I have to send the camera away to Kodak to develop the photos. They’ll send it back full of new film. It’s much tidier than daguerreotypes.”

  Violet nodded, but she wasn’t really thinking about photography. What would be the best way to propose her idea to him?

  Might as well be blunt. “Samuel, what would you say to a side trip to Niagara Falls while you’re on this side of the Atlantic?”

  She could see surprise flit across his face in the dim light. “I would say that sounds like an adventure.”

  She smiled. “That’s wonderful, because I’ve heard the Canadians need some help over there.”

  Chapter Two

  The dirigible that would take them to Niagara Falls was much smaller than the one that brought him to America, and mercifully, smelled decent in the lounge below decks. There wasn’t any separation of the classes here, so everyone was equally uncomfortable.

  They landed at a tiny, crowded airfield on the American side of Niagara Falls, then waited in line for a steam-powered trolley to take them to Canada. It was little more than a cart, just as cramped as the dirigible’s lounge, but neither Samuel nor Violet complained. Samuel didn’t dare, anyway.

  This was part of the whole adventure, every freezing moment of it.

  Still, he was glad when he and Violet were admitted across the border and could leave the crowded trolley station. “We’re looking for a Canadian Searcher named Frederick Tremblay,” she said. “I’ve met him before. I … oh!” She waved.

  A tall figure, bedecked in heavy coat and boots, bowler hat pulled low on his forehead, walked toward them. He lifted his head and smiled at Violet.

  “Frederick,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  He wrapped her up in a hug, not caring that they were in public. “Likewise,” he said. There was an odd lilt to his accent, and Samuel guessed he was probably from a French-speaking area. Tremblay turned to Samuel and stuck out a gloved hand. “Fred Tremblay. I take it you’re the Brit?”

  The Brit. Samuel forced a smile to his face and accepted the man’s proffered hand. “Samuel Seecombe, out of London.”

  “How’s the weather treating you?” Tremblay picked up Violet’s oversized bag without asking or being prompted and led through the snowy street away from the station.

  “It’s certainly a change.”

  “It’s a dry cold, so it isn’t too bad. You’ll get used to it.”

  Both of them easily kept up with the Canadian man’s long strides. Samuel took great care on the slippery streets, unused to the ice and snow that was so much more plentiful than in New York City. “You’re booked at The Guild,” Tremblay said. “Under the names Mr. and Mrs. Seecombe. The Guild doesn’t let rooms to unmarried couples, and it’s the only hotel in town that still had vacancies. There’s a big hot air balloon show coming up soon and people are here to see it.”

  That comment earned an eye roll from Violet, and Samuel’s gut clenched. He was not prepared to share a room with her or anyone. It just wasn’t done. Even London hotels weren’t that stringent about couples being married.

  “How’s that sound to you?” Tremblay asked.

  “It’s fine, and we appreciate the trouble you’ve gone to for us,” Violet said before Samuel could reply.

  Tremblay’s expression turned grave and he lowered his voice. “It’s bad here, Violet. We’ve never had enough of a problem with the bloodsuckers before that we needed outside help.” He held out his free gloved hand, as if in bewilderment. “We’ve never needed to have full time Searchers here. They couldn’t be bothered to come all the way up here, since it’s too cold and there’s not enough people to eat or turn without others noticing. Now there’s a bunch of them just hanging out here, and they’re bound to go farther north. The Montreal branch sent me here two weeks ago, and I’ve bee
n busy almost every night.” He sighed. “I’m exhausted. We all are. And we really appreciate your help.”

  “Let us get settled into the hotel and you’ll tell us everything,” Violet said.

  “Let me feed you, too. I can’t imagine the airship food is any good.”

  “Food?” Samuel said. “We were supposed to be fed?”

  That remark earned a smile from Violet, and despite the seriousness of the vampire problem ahead of them, he couldn’t keep a tiny bubble of happiness from welling up in him at the sight.

  ****

  The room booked for Samuel and Violet was tidy and clean, well-appointed without being too fussy. It reminded Violet of the decorating scheme in her own home, one she hadn’t chosen but didn’t see the point in changing. She and Samuel put their things away, then left the room to meet with Fred Tremblay in the hotel’s restaurant. She didn’t know about Fred or Samuel, but Violet could certainly use a decent hot meal following their voyage.

  The restaurant was sparsely populated this early in the afternoon, and Tremblay already waited for them at a corner table, as far away from the other patrons as possible. “I took the liberty of requesting steak pie for all of us,” he said, nodding at the plates set around the table. “Best thing they can make here. That all right?”

  The gesture irked Violet a little, and a quick glance at Samuel and the set line of his mouth told her he likely felt the same. Still, it was kind, and the Canadian branches were paying for their stay here, anyway. “That’s fine,” she said, letting Samuel pull out her chair for her. She sat down and he did likewise next to her.

  A brief silence fell over the table as she and Samuel tasted their steak pie. It was hot and edible, and that’s what mattered to Violet at that moment. Finally, she said, “Tell us about the problem here.”