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Summary
“Your wines are seasonal, are they not?” Neuvillette’s lips tip up into a smile. He allows his gaze to wander, taking in the townsfolk. “To have this during such a brutal season is a blessing in itself.”
“A blessing, indeed.” Wriothesley smiles kindly in turn, then hesitates, a question on the tip of his tongue. “Tell me, in your travels, have you found God?”
“Oh, I see.” Neuvillette’s laugh is deep, sonorous and genuine. The voice of the wind seems to live within him, words breathed out in a hushed tone to keep prying ears away from things they should not hear. “I fear I have found little of God in most places. As such a man yourself dedicated to faith, I am sure you and I can both agree that He can be found in the darkest of places, rather, in search of those who need salvation most.”
- Nestled into a lazy seaside town, the last creature Wriothesley expects to allow through the hallowed doors of his church is a Vampyr. Especially one who is so fetching. Perhaps this is the one temptation that will lead to his damnation.