No mother in her senses should be able to watch this, thought Lydia, as he stroked the lettuce-green silk sash. Knowing what he is, I should be screaming at him to keep away from anything that has touched my child. What’s wrong with me? Why do I trust him? And she tried not to hear her heart reply: Vampires hunt by making the living trust. He touched the fabric to his lips. Champagne-colored eyes half-shut, he faced the window of her shabby room at the Temperance Hotel seeming almost in a trance. ‘Nothing.’ He laid the little garment back on the cluttered bed. ‘The dreams of children whisper over London like the night sea. I said, did I not, that Lionel will guess that you will call me, and that I will come.’ Beyond him the sooty rooftops were a jungle of chimney pots and ridge poles, touched here and there with the grimy echo of a skylight’s glow. ‘Myself, I believe he will hide the child outside of London altogether, to keep the matter from his fledglings.’ ‘Do all masters distrust their fledglings?’ Lydia leaned her shoulder against the window frame, gathered the little dress in her arms.
What do You think about The Kindred Of Darkness (2013)?
