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“Dashed funny business, this, Madame Vastra.” Gregson dabbed at his brow with a cloth. “Three blokes found dead, drained of blood. Ne’er-do-wells and felons, but folks is getting nervous.” He shrugged apologetically. “Willing to pay the usual rate for your services.”
Vastra paused. An alien species in need of hemoglobin? An aficionado of Mr. Le Fanu or Mr. Stoker’s novels?
Her wife interrupted her reverie. “We’ll take the case.” Fortunately, Gregson was used to Jenny speaking her mind, and barely registered anything out of the ordinary as Vastra met her eyes. Trust me, the human whispered over their mental link.
“Yes, we shall,” Vastra confirmed. “We shall begin our investigation at once.”
“Shall I fetch the case file, ma’am?” Jenny volunteered.
“Yes, and send Strax round for the carriage,” Vastra confirmed. “I believe we are done here.” But we are certainly not done, she thought.
Later, aboard their carriage, Vastra turned to Jenny. “You acted...most peculiarly. Kindly do me the courtesy of an explanation?”
Jenny bowed her head, a posture Vastra knew to be associated less with deep thought and more with shame. “You will recall the day I first confessed my love to you?”
“As one of the happiest of my many years; why do you ask?”
If possible, Jenny’s head bowed further. “You remember the objections you raised to our union?”
“I believe the words I used were that I were a long-lived monster who ate people.”
Jenny’s chin sank nearly to her breast as she mumbled. “Well, now we’re even.” She coughed. “And, to be fair, they were terrible people.”
To Jenny’s shock, scaled fingertips tenderly grasped her chin and tilted it up into a kiss. “My love, what say you we have ourselves a bonfire when we get home?” She held up the case file. “After all, we have all of this lovely kindling to use.”