Allure Of The Night-Novel

Knowing she had stamped the foot of the person under the table made Eve smile. It seemed like she was getting better at catching Vincent, but why was he smiling as if knowing an inside joke that she wasn’t aware of?

Did Vincent enjoy pain? Eve asked in her mind. She pulled her foot, crossing it to the side and ready to continue her meal, when she heard a muffled whimper escape from Henry Quintin sitting next to her.

Eve turned to look at the man sitting next to her, whose eyes had turned wide, and his face was between wanting to cry and scream, but he did not. Instead, he stared at his plate as if he had found gold.

Mr. Quintin tried to hold in pain from his foot. He hadn’t expected the woman to stomp in such force, and he dragged his foot back to his side. Vincent, who was quietly enjoying the scene in front of him, asked with false concern,

“Mr. Quintin, you don’t look so good. Are you alright?”

Another gentleman sitting next to Vincent asked with a slight laugh, “Did you swallow a chilli?”

Henry couldn’t look at Eve, believing she had found out about what he was going to do, and at the same time, he couldn’t lose face in front of his guests. He mustered a smile and replied,

“It seems like it,” nodding while trying to ease the pain. Henry said, “Excuse me, I will be back in two minutes.”

“Some chillies are spicier than the others. You should always be careful, Mr. Quintin,” Vincent remarked with an innocent expression. He continued, “If you cannot handle the spice, it is better to not try it.”

Mr. Quintin tried to keep a straight face while his foot throbbed. He tried to wear his shoes not so subtly, which was when Eve’s eyes met Vincent’s eyes. The pureblooded vampire moved his eyes to the man next to her, hinting to her to see what he was doing under the table.

When Eve’s eyes fell on Mr. Quintin’s foot, her eyes turned wide on seeing blood on his barefoot. Did she just stamp her host’s foot? But at the same time, she looked up at him. Did he try to touch her?

Without attempting to wear his sock, Mr. Quintin stood up from his seat. His mother frowned and questioned him,

“Where are you going? The meal hasn’t ended yet.”

“I will be back soon, I just need to… visit the bathroom,” Mr. Quintin whispered to his mother, who looked put off by her son’s words.

Mr. Quintin walked away from the chair without looking at Eve, while her eyes moved to his shoe that didn’t have a sock, where he slightly wobbled and left the dining room. She couldn’t believe that the man had such thoughts, which repulsed her.

When Eve’s eyes met Vincent’s, he cut the meat on his plate into a thin slice and took a bite from it. He said to her,

“Your food is going to turn cold, Ms. Barlow.”

Eve blinked at him. It couldn’t be that all this while, Mr. Quintin was the one who was running his foot around her ankle and up to her knee. In between taking bites from her plate, she stared at Vincent.

“Was it you before who…?”

Vincent raised his head, placing his lazy gaze on her. He questioned, “Was what?” Eve looked at the table before looking up at him. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

It was him! Eve shouted in her mind.

Earlier, when he had bent down to pick up the spoon, he must have noticed something, Eve thought in her mind. Mr. Quintin didn’t return to his table for the third course of the meal, and everyone finished their lunch.

Most of the guests had moved to games of cards arranged in another room, while some stood in the corridors, talking to each other.

“Aren’t you going to join us in the game room, Ms. Barlow?” Marceline’s words came from behind her, who now walked with her friend Lady Stella.

“In some time,” Eve offered a polite bow and watched them walk away from where she stood.

Eve wondered if it was okay to leave, but none of the other guests had left the mansion. Though she had arrived in Mr. Quintin’s carriage, it wouldn’t stop her from walking out of the mansion and towards the carriage stop to hop on the next local carriage passing by from Skellington.

She walked opposite where Lady Marceline and the other guests were being entertained by each other’s presence. She looked at the paintings that hung on the walls, when she heard Vincent’s voice and a woman who seemed to be enjoying his company as she smiled.

Turning behind, she noticed the woman lean forward to say something in his ear before she left the corridor.

Vincent was famous among women. The female humans freely willed to give their blood, while the female vampires or werewolves were happy to have him take them into his arms.

Eve wondered who the woman was that Vincent was entertaining. She then turned back to admire the painting in front of her.

“Admiring the painting or waiting to stomp the other foot of Mr. Quintin?” Vincent asked, and Eve quickly turned to make sure no one heard him. He came to stand next to her and remarked, “You seem to have quite a good aim. You should join us for tomorrow’s hunting session.”

“I don’t think the men would like to have a woman join them,” Eve pursed her lips, looking at the people in the corridor before she asked, “Did you see Henry?”

“He must be in his room, bandaging his foot, considering the scent of his blood that drifted in the air. I was hoping for you to nail your heel into his foot but then your shoe isn’t as pointy as I wished it was,” Vincent said in a nonchalant tone.

When Vincent started to walk, Eve left the painting. Her footsteps came next to his steady ones. She had to move her feet slightly faster than him. She asked,

“Why didn’t you warn me about it?” She murmured, “A small kick under the table would have worked to let me know to be cautious.”

Vincent clicked his tongue and remarked, “Kicking a lady is rude. As a governess, you should already know it.” And running his foot up her leg was not? Eve stared at him in disbelief. He said, “I thought it was more amusing like this than you know about your gentleman’s advances.”

Eve retorted, “He’s not my gentleman.”

“No? You had nothing but nice words about and for him,” Vincent hummed, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

“It is called being polite,” she replied.

Eve didn’t want to be rude to Henry earlier when he hadn’t done or said anything bad to her until they were in the dining room. Right now, she was worried about what or how Mr. Quintin would react to her stomping his foot. As it was not done directly in the public’s eyes, she hoped her action didn’t hurt Henry’s male ego.

“Ah polite, something that is lost in my world,” Vincent chuckled. As if not missing an opportunity, he taunted her, “You surprise me, Eve. I didn’t know you were into men like him. Not all men take a woman’s politeness as being polite, but use it to their advantage. I told you he wasn’t qualified to be your husband.”

“You did…” Eve whispered in agreement. She was thankful that nothing more had happened apart from Mr. Quintin acquiring an injured foot because of her. The man had only himself to blame.

Vincent and Eve walked to the other side of the mansion, where the tall and wide pillars supported the mansion’s ceiling. On one side stood the walls with doors, and on the other side, where the pillars stood, let one view the garden built around the mansion.

When Vincent slipped his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the fangs that belonged to Lady Camille.

“Do you like them so much that you carry them with you?” Eve questioned him. Looking at the pair of fangs made her uncomfortable, knowing they belonged to the person she had killed and later buried.

Vincent noticed Eve staring at his hand. A grin appeared on his lips, and he said, “I am gifting it to someone today.” His eyes were bright with excitement she didn’t want to be part of.

From the other end of the corridor, Mr. and Mrs. Walsh walked. Vincent noticed them and heard Mrs. Walsh whisper to her husband, “You would think the Moriarty family have some class and taste. To hire a woman who lacks little to no character.”

“What more can you expect from a family that has murdered people?” Mr. Walsh replied to his wife. His eyes fell on the beautiful governess of the Moriarty family, and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her. He hadn’t forgotten that a few months ago, she had threatened to hit him.

Eve turned quiet on seeing the couple walking towards them, while they walked from the other end of the corridor. Vincent lowered his hand that held the fangs. Though Eve couldn’t hear what the couple were whispering to each other, Vincent heard it all.

“I hear that Vincent was the one who hired her. Maybe she’s sleeping with him, like she tried to sleep with you in the name of working as a governess,” Mrs. Walsh muttered.

Mr. Walsh softly harrumphed, “The family was doomed when Eduard married that deceased human.”

When the couple neared Vincent and Eve, they stopped to bow at the pureblooded vampire. Vincent stepped in front of Mr. Walsh and dusted the side of the person’s coat, taking the man by surprise.

Vincent said, “I hate seeing dirt. Your coat caught a little cobweb.” Smiling, he took a step backwards and said, “Looks like the Quintins are in need of more servants than what they already have.”

Mr. Walsh politely asked, “Will you be joining us for a game of cards, Mr. Moriarty?”

A crooked smile appeared on Vincent’s lips. He hummed, “We should play one last game before the day ends,” the couple bowed, and before they left, Mr. Walsh’s eyes fell on Eve as if he couldn’t look away from her beauty.

Seeing the couple leave the corridor, Eve turned to look at Vincent, whose hands were empty. She stared at him before realisation hit her.

Eve said, “There was never a cobweb….”

Vincent had slipped Lady Camille’s fangs into Mr. Walsh’s coat pocket. She saw him turn to look at her and smile, “A little gift never did too much damage.” But Eve knew it was far from the truth. What was he planning?