She then angled her head to the side and cocked the opposing eyebrow for effect.

“Not quite understandable?” Evelyn asked. “If I offended you in—(any way.)”

Those big blue eyes increased in size exponentially. Evelyn knew it was not a slip of the tongue, but this was a wonderful way to throw the Georgian off.

“No,” the Georgian exclaimed. “I meant that I sympathize.”

Evelyn’s eyes came a glow while remaining locked on the Georgian’s eyes.

“Why must we suffer for our beauty?” Evelyn asked.

“Oui,” Evelyn replied after sending a puff of air to clear out a strand of stray hair. (Yes.) “I’m sorry, have I disturbed you?”

If there was one thing vampires excelled at, it was selling a lie. Evelyn also has the added advantage of being able to quicken her breathing and heart rate to match.

The Georgian looked down at her notebook and groaned. While focused on it at the exclusion of everything else, it seemed that she had little interest in it.

“It’s not—(thing.) quite understandable,” the Georgian replied.

Evelyn smiled as only she could. It was a smile that promised the world of only one surrendered to her entirely. It originated in life as a courtesan and she improved upon it through centuries and confidence.

The redhead eyes transitioned from what appeared to be a notebook and moved onto the dark haired beauty. The transition from surprise, annoyance, and settling on surprise was quick and honest. Whatever she was doing it was her world until I walked by.

“Everything okay?” the Georgian asked.

Evelyn took a moment to remove her broken shoe followed closely by the other. The carpeting is surprisingly plush.

“Oui,” Evelyn replied after sending a puff of air to clear out a strand of stray hair. (Yes.) “I’m sorry, have I disturbed you?”

Evelyn grabbed her clutch and walked towards the exit. On her way past the lass she dug in her heel into the plush carpeting and applied just enough strength to snap it off entirely. The snap rang out clearly throughout the lounge.

 “Merde,” Evelyn swore. (Shit!)

Evelyn was quite graceful, courtesy of countless dance lessons. To sell the deception she feigned a stumble and grabbed into the booth table to steady herself.

Her hair was as red as fire while her bare skin was milky white. Everything was in the right place and beautifully shaped as though engineered. Plentiful bosun’s, large hips, and an exaggerated hourglass shape.

This one was everything that Evelyn was not and that might turn out to be a stumbling block. This vampire spent centuries hating everything about herself, and being rejected by every man in her life did little to help with self-esteem. This century’s doing wonders for my ego.

All of those details were visible even through her clothes. The dress was comparatively utilitarian, and very little thought had gone into her appearance. The things I could do with her hair.

She finished off her champagne in several large gulps. The alcohol would have no effect on her, but it helped physiologically. The mind makes it real.

She twirled around on the stool and used the opportunity to get a better look. Had this been three centuries ago, she might have gasped. The supposed Georgian was a nearly flawless Scottish lass.

Her hair was as red as fire while her bare skin was milky white. Everything was in the right place and beautifully shaped as though engineered. Plentiful bosun’s, large hips, and an exaggerated hourglass shape.

Between the newspaper and her other sources she had a pretty good idea of the horrors those men faced. These battles were merciless and the dead numbered in the thousands, with the number of wounded coming in at nearly three times that amount. That’s just for four days of fighting.

It was reasonable to shield someone her physical age from the horrors of war. In fact she met several ladies who showed no interest at all in what was going on in Europe.

However, Evelyn was far older than she appeared and was no stranger to murder. Besides, female vampires had long set the bar high for brutality. Drusilla is the undisputed queen.

“Have you decided, miss?” Cecil asked.

“Breast of capon à l’impératrice,” Evelyn answered. “Unless I’m back at the bar, have it sent to her at the table.”

“Very good miss,” Cecil said. “Good luck,”

That last part is what she assumed the men would say before going over the top. Marc did not delve into the battles, since he sought to shield her from the cold reality of battle. He should have tried his hand at the cold reality of prostitution.

“No alcohol?” Evelyn confirmed.

“None,” Cecil said.

“It might be easier for me to pluck the moon from out of the sky…”

Cecil chuckled and it almost sounded authentic. Evelyn flashed her trademark smile before taking a deep breath.

“Have you decided, miss?” Cecil asked.

“What is she drinking?” Evelyn asked.

“Something new as a special request,” Cecil said. “Ward’s Orange Crush.”

He brought up a bottle from behind the counter. It looked like a beer bottle with a longer neck, clear glass and a ribbed design. Evelyn smirked at the sight of the ribbed pattern but did not comment on that feature specifically.

The liquid was orange vaguely reminiscent of real fruit juice. She guessed there was more to it than that. Evelyn would likely try it by the end of the night, depending how things went.