Amelia felt dazed, and perceived she must be in some sort of shock, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from this striking looking individual. She was dapper, but in her own unique way, wearing a clearly bespoke black suit with a pressed white shirt, no tie, and a wide, open-neck collar.

“Honey—Amelia Honey, sorry,” Amelia babbled.

Her saviour gave her the most charming smile, and bowed with a flourish. “Victorija Dred at your service, Mademoiselle Honey, but you can call me Victorija.”

Chapter Thirteen

Victorija waited patiently while Amelia dealt with the police and was checked over by the paramedics, before accompanying her to a local wine bar. Everything about her plan had worked perfectly. One of her turned vampires ran a car straight for Amelia, and Victorija, like a gallant knight, came to her rescue.

The wine bar was cosy, and had an intimate atmosphere. Victorija chose a booth at the back to maintain the utmost privacy. So far her time with Amelia Honey had been pleasant. She could quite see what Byron saw in her.

“I can’t believe the driver didn’t have a scratch. I mean, he smashed into a wall and—” Amelia blushed and looked down at her wine spritzer. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Victorija laughed softly and covered Amelia’s hand with hers. “Not at all. You’ve been through quite a shock. It’s not surprising you need to talk, and I find your voice quite delightful.”

“You’re just being far too polite, I’m sure.” Amelia finished her second large glass of wine.

Surprisingly, Victorija wasn’t being polite. She had expected Byron’s love to be some annoying, tedious woman, but she was delightful, sweet, and innocent. She would take great pleasure in feeding from her.

What folly it was for Byron to leave her unprotected.

Victorija poured her another glass of wine. “Not in the slightest. So, tell me, Mademoiselle Amelia, I know you work for your uncle’s tailors, but tell me all about you.”

“There’s not a lot to tell really,” Amelia said.

So bashful, so sweet, I’m going to enjoy this. “There must be. A beautiful woman like you must have an active social calendar.”

Amelia’s hand went to the bite mark on her neck. Victorija could have laughed out loud. The sanctimonious Byron Debrek couldn’t even keep her famous blood control around this woman. Byron didn’t simply love this woman. She was her weakness.

“I’m afraid not. I go to work and I go home. Very boring.”

Victorija pulled her seat closer, so she was looking directly into Amelia’s eyes. She could have so easily compelled her, gotten all the information she wanted, and had her willingly leave with her, but for some reason she wanted this encounter to be real.

“You’ve been hurt?”

Amelia looked surprised and pulled back.