Allure Of The Night

The following morning, Eve was woken up by the chirping of the birds that had perched near the trees of Vincent’s office. When she tried to stretch her body, she winced in pain as her skin that was healing didn’t allow it. Pushing herself from the couch, she noticed the sun’s rays passing through the room’s windows.

Vincent wasn’t in the room, and Eve wondered where he had gone.

The last thing she remembered was Vincent drinking blood from her. Her hand touched her neck, recollecting the previous night. It felt like he had some sort of mental switch last night, and she had never seen him look at her like that before.

“Friends,” Eve muttered before rolling her eyes.

After a minute, Eve heard the key and door knob turn before the office door opened. Vincent stepped inside the room, and their eyes met. She wondered if all vampires perhaps lacked shame, which is why they didn’t care about drinking blood from a male or female’s neck. Because Eve was still embarrassed at the memory of his lips sucking her neck.

Internally, Eve sulked in the corner of her mind for being touched by a man who wasn’t her husband.

Though her employer appeared to be his usual self, Eve couldn’t be entirely sure because she didn’t know what had triggered the man yesterday. It was as if he had suddenly turned thirsty and had pounced on her.

“How’s my breakfast doing?” Vincent questioned, with a twinkle in his eyes, and Eve looked at him wearily.

“Last night you almost killed me,” Eve accused him, her lips setting themselves in a thin line.

“You are still breathing and talking. I wouldn’t call it almost,” answered Vincent, and he placed a bag on the desk.

“I fainted while you drank my blood,” said Eve, and she could only thank her luck that she was still alive and the vampire hadn’t sucked her dry.

“If there’s anyone to blame here, it is you,” remarked Vincent, and Eve frowned. “You fainted because of exhaustion, not because I took your blood. You are a person with lack of experience here to claim I almost killed you, while I know exactly when a person is going to die. Don’t be upset, I am sure you will come to learn in the coming days, to know what it means to be on the verge of your death. Take this,” he jerked his head towards the bag.

Eve looked at the bag and asked, “What is that?”

“Clothes for you to wear. Unless you don’t mind meeting the head council in here with your current attire,” Vincent’s eyes swept across the shirt and trousers Eve wore. “I am being considerate and you accuse me. I am hurt, Eve. Especially when we are friends.”

Eve stared at him for a few seconds before walking to the desk and picking up the bag. She offered a bow, “Thank you for bringing me clothes to wear.” Just because he had a flippant attitude didn’t mean she had to forget her manners along with him, thought Eve.

The dress that Vincent had brought for her was way more expensive than any of the clothes she had back home. It was a grey dress with a white inner skirt and scarf around her neck. The sleeves were long yet loose enough not to press on her wounds.

Once Eve was ready to meet the higher ups, they stepped out of the office and started to walk in the corridor. Unlike last night, when the corridors were empty, many people were walking back and forth now.

“Where did you get the dress from?”

“The mice and the birds helped me weave them. Would you like to thank them?” came Vincent’s sarcastic words and he said, “One of my men bought it. This way your name will be cleared faster.”

“Why do you say that?”

Vincent placed his hand on Eve’s back and smiled, “It’s how the world works, darling. I am sure even you know that well dressed people are often favoured more than the ones who have nothing and are easier to be blamed. It is what appeases people’s eyes.”

“That’s horrible,” Eve was disappointed, and they walked past another council member. “Does that mean people with no resources suffer and take the blame?”

“Suffer no, blame yes. Just like you heroically took the blame for Mr. Fowler’s murder. It’s just that it takes a little more time to get the innocent out,” replied Vincent.

“My faith is dissolving,” Eve muttered, and on hearing this, Vincent chuckled.

“This is why it is better to live your life on your own terms. Though the unfortunates lack that privilege and have to follow the herd,” stated Vincent. Eve didn’t have to know who was the unfortunate one here.

When they approached the double doors made of dark wood, he said,

“Keep your answer clear and don’t be scared. They will pick up on the change of your heartbeat, but you seem to know how to calm it during danger, don’t you?” It was because Vincent hadn’t been able to pick her heartbeat during the time in the dungeon, and he wondered how she had trained to do it. “Leave the rest to me.”

The two guards who stood at the door bowed and then pulled open the door for both of them to step inside. Eve, who had anticipated seeing a room with two-three people, was surprised to find that they had not stepped into a room but into a long corridor with a high ceiling.

A long carpet was spread to walk on, and on either side stood white pillars. They walked until the end, where a big window of a tomb shape was present. In front of the window sat six people, watching every step she placed on the floor. They were all men, and out of six people, one of them was a small boy.

Eve bowed her head, feeling their piercing stare.

“Raise,” said one of the councilmen there. “Do you know why you are here?” he questioned while staring at her with his gold eyes. The other five people who sat there were vampires, humans and another werewolf. And though they belonged to different kinds, Eve could tell by their looks that they all belonged to high-status and wealthy families.

Eve nodded and said, “Yes.”

The man looked down at the parchment in his hand and said, “It is mentioned that you were found near the corpse of Jones Fowler. Taken to the dungeon and stayed there for over twenty-four hours. And then Vincent Moriarty brought you out of the dungeon by breaking the protocols and killing the guards, before keeping you here in the council until now. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Eve turned slightly nervous as these men were no common people sitting in front of her.

“It looks like Moriarty needs to be subjected to disciplinary actions for breaking the code of conduct,” stated a man who had a thick moustache above his lips. He was a vampire.

“More than me, your men are in need to be taught on how to handle a case and not find the first person to be guilty,” answered Vincent before adding, “You have already spoken to the village head, who has cleared all the doubts you had earlier.”

“Mr. Cripps will be facing strict actions and have already spoken to him, but we cannot overlook what you did. You could have informed us and taken up the signed seal to take the woman from there, but you decided to do what you want,” stated another man, who was a werewolf. “You seem to hold a record when it comes to breaking the laws and rules set by your seniors. What were you doing in the dungeon?”

“It seems like you want to call me the murderer,” said Vincent calmly, “If you insist on knowing, I had my doubts that someone tipped the head guard to kill this woman to close the case, with all the blame on her.”

While the men continued to discuss, Eve felt some stare at her. One belonged to the small boy, and then was another man, who played with the beard on his chin in thought.

“I find it rather surprising that you, Mr. Moriarty, decided to visit the dungeon.”

“We will discuss it later, Dave,” remarked the small boy, who sat at the centre.

Eve looked at the boy, who skimmed and scanned her with his red eyes. The boy spoke, “I am Clayton Turner, the head of this place. Ms. Barlow, can you tell us what happened that day?”

Eve nodded before starting to explain it to the person.

“One thing is clear that the murderer is still on lose and we have only delayed our search,” said another person, who appeared young and had downturned eyes.

Clayton raised his hand to silence the members from discussing. He said to Eve,

“Having heard Mr. Cripps who was handling the case, the head villager who witnessed Jones Fowler’s death

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