Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

birth to little cream-cake eaters.” He began to laugh at his own joke.
    Evangeline was not the slightest bit amused. She pulled her hands from his, having heard quite enough.
    “That’s not funny, sir, and I don’t believe any of this. There are no such things as vampires. All those people who were here that night, they probably worked on the stage or something. They were certainly dressed for it. You and your sister and Munk, you are all just very odd people, nothing more.”
    “Good, then you have nothing to fear from me,” Raven said simply.
    Evangeline tapped her foot on the floor—she had talked herself into that one. “That aside, you still have not told me how your parents died.”
    “Was I supposed to?”
    “I would like to know and it might help to talk about it.”
    “Help what?” Raven shrugged. “It won’t bring them back. They drowned. They went boating at night. About five miles from here there is a lake which is very deep in the middle. The boat overturned.
    There was no one to help them. They were probably playing about, they always played with each other. They were like two children together, best friends.”
    “Why were they boating at night?” Evangeline asked, then stopped as she answered her own question. “Because they were Ravenscrofts.”
    “They were always far more interested in each other than they ever were in my sister or me.” His anger began to rise up again.
    “They indulged their own pleasures to the exclusion of us and our people. They knew Dominica was becoming more and more remote and making less and less sense. They knew she was becoming Sanguinarian 191
    dangerous and they did nothing. They left her to me and Munk to keep her safe. They were selfish. They died from selfishness! They never loved us.”
    “I understand your anger,” Evangeline said.
    Raven leapt to his feet and grabbed a large chair by its arms, tossing it easily across the room where it landed with a thud against the wall. “Do not tell me you understand. You know nothing about me!” He walked to the fireplace and leaned his forehead on the cold, marble mantelpiece.
    Growing used to his sudden outbursts, Evangeline merely ran for cover behind a large chair. “I have been angry at my parents over the years when my uncle was being particularly contemptible. Believe me, my lord, I do understand.”
    “I’m sorry, Evangeline, I’m sorry, forgive me.” He looked like a contrite child before its mother, his head hanging, his fingers twisting together. Drawn by the noise, Munk walked in, taking in the scene with her sweeping gaze.
    “All is well, Munk,” Raven told her. “Bring me some wine and something salty to eat.”
    “Salty?” Munk paused. “Should you visit your sister, my lord?”
    “Is she well today?” he asked.
    “No sir, she is very agitated.”
    “Then it is not a good idea. I will leave her to you, Munk.”
    “Yes, sir.” The woman looked accusingly at Evangeline and left.
    “She hates me,” Evangeline observed.
    “She is merely protective of me.” Raven took a vial from his pocket and tipped a little of the contents onto his tongue.
    “Do you have toothache, my lord?” She had noticed him doing that before, always surreptitiously. “That is oil of cloves.”
    He shook his head. “I do not have a toothache.”
    Without knowing why or what she meant by it, she opened her arms to him. It was an impulse, an instinctive response to the pain in his eyes and an expression of her naturally warm heart. A look of 192
    Fyn Alexander
    disbelief widened his eyes for a brief moment. Still, he did not pause as he came around the chair to where she stood.
    Their height discrepancy was so great that to be enveloped in her arms would be impossible while standing, so he sank to his knees on the dusty floor and allowed her to embrace him. Then after a few moments he slid down to sit at her feet.
    Getting down beside him, Evangeline drew him to her bosom.
    “There now, you don’t have to be angry all the time. You feel the burden of your position, don’t you, my lord? But I also think that you rise to it.”
    “Mmm,” he purred and Evangeline felt his warm breath against her bosom. Her skin tingled. A moment ago he was just a sad child mourning the loss of his parents. Now with his face pressed against her breasts she could hardly contain her arousal.
    “Did Lady Dominica ever live normally?” she asked.
    “When we were children, yes. I don’t remember when I first had