Vail observed Walton from a distance as the doctor began his examination. He was protective of Victoria, but he was also genuinely curious to see how humans treated other humans. It wasn’t something he had ever had reason to watch before, since he had never grown close enough to another human to bear witness to any medical issues. Idly, he wondered what each of the man’s instruments did. James only pulled two from his briefcase, but the Hygrace heir could see more inside. He could tell the first tool that the physician used was designed to check the lady’s breathing, since he’d instructed her to breathe on his command, but the second test was more mysterious. Subtly, he touched his own wrist as he studied the interaction, trying to figure it out on his own. He couldn’t ask his question out loud, in case the procedure was common. It would come across as strange if he accidentally confessed he’d never seen a doctor in his life.

Upon pressing down lightly with his fingers, he discovered he could feel his own pulse just beneath his fair skin—a pulse many humans didn’t believe vampires had. The thought brought an amused half-smile to his lip. He knew the myths that had been spread about his kind, that they were undead demons who had clawed their way up from their graves to fill their bodies with blood they no longer had. Their skin was supposed to be clammy from death, and the sun would turn them to dust.

His hazel eyes roved to the window, through which the afternoon light warmed his chair. The legends were fantastical at best, but he couldn’t complain. The more misled the Order was, the easier it was for his kind to remain hidden. Vampires had cooler temperatures than humans, but they weren’t icy, so they could explain away the abnormality by claiming to have poor circulation. Similarly, their skin was pale enough to burn with prolonged exposure to the sun, but they didn’t turn to dust, so they could tell keen observers that they spent most of their time indoors. All of their excuses were plausible enough to put most nervous humans’ worries to rest.

Walton’s voice drew him abruptly from his musings when he inquired about Victoria’s bite. Vail turned back to the bed, concealing his concern with a mask of calm. He trusted that Lady Crest wouldn’t tell the man who had bitten her, but he felt a little guilty that he was the one who had caused her condition to worsen so drastically. Even if she had offered her neck to him, it had been foolish to take any of her remaining blood when she had been too weak to walk from her manor to her summer house. He had given in to his inner predator when he should have stepped back and let logic guide his actions.

While penitence seeped into the heir’s eyes, his father grew tense. Not knowing Victoria like Vail did, Peter didn’t trust her to keep their secret. He watched her with a hardened gaze, as if silently warning her not to confess that it was his son who had sunk his fangs into her flesh. The Hygraces had agreed not to kill the humans they fed on, but they didn’t abstain from taking lives because they believed it was a sin. If Lord James discovered them, he would not hesitate to drain the physician to death to keep him from spreading word.

When she blamed Lord Spencer, both Hygraces relaxed. Vail studied the bottle of antibiotics doctor Walton presented with interest. It fascinated him how much effort humans put into maintaining their health. There seemed to be something about mortality that gave them the determination to create and invent and make life better for themselves and for the generations to follow. In his two centuries on Earth, he had seen countless examples of human ingenuity, the most recent being the telephone. He was sure the new invention would become widespread once all the lines were set up, since mortals liked to improve the speed of things like traveling and communicating. He supposed medical advancements were highly valued as well.

When the physician finished his work, Peter casted one more look at Vail and Victoria before he stepped over to the door. “I’ll return in a minute,” he forewarned them as he escorted Lord Walton out of the room.

The Hygrace heir knew what that meant. He avoided his father’s gaze until the clan leader closed the door behind him. When Peter returned, he was sure there was going to be a berating over his rebelliousness. His father wouldn’t let him off when it was obvious that he hadn’t kept his distance from Lady Crest. He sighed, sinking down in his plush armchair. At least Peter had found someone to tend to her.