Carriages clattered to the Vicomte's mansion. Gaslight bled through fog. Inside crystal chandeliers blazed. Women in jewels laughed too loud. Men drank ruby wine. Élise knew it was blood.
Lucien took her arm. "The Vicomte wears a silver wolf pin. Get close. Touch it."
The Vicomte de Sanglac glided toward them. Handsome. Cold. His eyes fixed on Élise. "Doctor Thorne. And who is this lovely creature?"
"My wife Adèle," Lucien lied smoothly.
The Vicomte took Élise's hand. His skin felt like chilled marble. "Dance with me Adèle."
He whirled her across the floor. Élise forced a smile. Her fingers brushed the wolf pin on his lapel. She focused. Her power stirred weakly through the cuff. She caught flashes. A crypt key shaped like a rose. A vault under stone stairs.
"Your perfume fascinates me," the Vicomte murmured. "Bergamot. Sorrow. You smell like loss my dear."
Élise's heart pounded. "All women carry loss Monsieur."
He leaned close. Fangs glinted. "Not like you. I taste your magic even caged."
Lucien cut in. "My wife tires Vicomte." He pulled Élise away. His grip hurt.
Outside Lucien shoved her against a wall. "What did you see?"
"A key," Élise gasped. "Rose-shaped. In a vault under the crypt stairs."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Good. Now we"
Screams erupted inside the mansion.