Soulless

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Tremendous thanks to the ladies of the WCWC and their multicolored Pens of Doom: with criticism comes wisdom and, hopefully, tea. To Mum and Dad, who had the brilliant parental idea that good behavior be rewarded with trips to the bookshop. And to G and E: purveyors of fine feelings and patrons of the scribbling beast, however fiendish she may be.

Miss Alexia Tarabotti was not enjoying her evening. Private balls were never more than middling amusements for spinsters, and Miss Tarabotti was not the kind of spinster who could garner even that much pleasure from the event. To put the pudding in the puff: she had retreated to the library, her favorite sanctuary in any house, only to happen upon an unexpected vampire. She glared at the vampire.

For his part, the vampire seemed to feel that their encounter had improved his ball experience immeasurably. For there she sat, without escort, in a low-necked ball gown.

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