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It wasn't often they had visitors so late.
Sure, Eliza frequently had guests come to call on her, and Philip's tutor came and went every day, and Alexander’s friends frequently stopped by. Some afternoons the house was a hub of activity. But never so late at night.
It occurred to Alex, as he ran to get the door, that this may have something to do with the events of the past few months. Events that began with a conversation about the constitution and ended with Aaron Burr receiving some very personal knowledge about Alexander.
Specifically, that the Hamiltons were vampires.
That had gone… not so well. There had been a scuffle and a good deal of yelling. But it had ended with Aaron Burr permitting Alex to sink razor sharp teeth into his neck and drink his blood. Lightning, he’d said, it felt like lightning, and it had taken every little bit of Alex’s strength to not seduce him then and there. Had Burr initiated, he probably would have.
After that night, things had gotten considerably more awkward, especially considering their wives. They danced around one another in the courtroom, and Burr largely avoided him outside of it - not that that was particularly new. Only now, every once in a while, Burr would turn up and out of the blue ask, "Does silver affect you?", "How often do you feed, on average?", or "How close must a stake get to your heart before it kills you?"
(The answers were "Only if it’s hitting my heart", "Every few days", and "I pray to God I never find out")
And then, if Alexander was very lucky, Burr would tilt his head and ask Alexander if he needed to feed now. So when Alexander opened the door, he was expecting a well dressed, handsome, perpetually irritated figure.
She was none of those things.
Shifting from foot to foot on his step, looking uncertain. Long dark curls falling in her face, partially obscuring a bruise that sat high on her neck. There were bruises on her arms as well, all in different stages of healing. In poor light she could have been mistaken for his sister-in-law, if Peggy was much more sultry and far more frightened.
As he opened the door he saw her visibly steel herself, then say, "I know you are a man of honour. I'm so sorry to bother you at home, but I don't know where to go-" she glanced behind her, at the dark empty street, and wet her red red lips. "I came here all alone."
"Alexander?" Eliza came up behind him, resting a hand on his hip. "Who is it? Oh."
God bless his wife. She took the bruises, the sad eyes, and the low cut dress with stride. "Come in, please. I'll put the kettle on. I don't believe we've made your acquaintance? I am Eliza, and this is my husband Alexander Hamilton."
"Maria Reynolds." As she stepped into the house she brushed against him, the red silk of her dress feeling queer against his arms. It's not the soft cotton Eliza wears nor the structured waistcoats that Burr favours, now familiar under his hands-
Don't think about that. Especially not with Eliza in the next room over.
Eliza fetched tea and a fine handkerchief, and bit by bit they got the story out of her. A husband that was frequently violent. A young daughter at home. A perpetual lack of money, exacerbated by her husband's habits of gambling and abandoning them for months at a time.
"The first time, I borrowed money from a friend." Maria bit her lip, staring down at the bruises on her wrists. "He was furious. Called me a whore, told me I could continue to- to- make money if that was the way I was going to behave. I just wanted to feed my daughter, sir, she's only four."
"We'll ensure you're all right," Eliza had promised. "Is your daughter well for the time being?"
"Yes ma'am," she nodded. "She's staying with a friend."
"Good. You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow we'll see about your husband."
"But if I, if I don't-"
"Here." Alex handed her the money he had collected from around the house. $30, enough to keep Maria and her daughter for a few weeks if they were careful.
She was still mumbling thanks as Eliza showed her to a guest room. Alex paced into the kitchen, thinking hard.
"We can't help her," was the first thing Eliza said upon coming downstairs.
"I didn't say anything!"
"You didn't have to. I saw it in your face."
He didn't even try to deny it. "We must do something."
"We have done something."
"It's not enough! He'll take the money if he comes back. If not, she'll just be starving again in a few weeks."
"We can't do anything without risking exposure. You know that, Alexander. You can't go attacking anyone you please, there isn't a war anymore."
Which was a little unfair. Alex snorted, thinking about the bruises on Maria's arms. Thinking about his mother, and what she lived with. "It's still a war for some."
“Nevertheless. And besides,” Eliza added thoughtfully, “I don’t think she’d want us to make her a widow.”
Alexander just huffed. “I’m sure we could find a way.”
“Bend your mind to the task, you’ll get there.” She kissed him softly. “My Alexander has not yet found a problem he could not solve. Now, go and bring the girl her tea. I’ll see you upstairs.”
Maria was sitting on the bed, still in her red dress and not the clothes Eliza had laid out for her. “Sir,” she smiled when she saw him, but it was a brittle thing. “I have heard you were a lawyer. Is there any way-”
He frowned. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. In your situation, it would be unlikely indeed.”
She nodded, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want another husband, sir, I just want him to leave me be. I worry for my daughter. If he would just go, and not come back….”
Alexander stared at her. Stared for so long she started shifting, wetting her lips and looking up at him in anticipation.
“I have an idea,” he said finally. “It’s not the most polite thing, but I can get the bastard gone.”
“Oh, please.” She reached out a hand for him, and came up empty. Alex was already tearing down the stairs in search of Eliza, and her “Stay?” met only the empty air.
Eliza took some time to convince. But slowly, methodically, he talked her down from “That’s impossible” to “Alexander, we just can’t” and finally to “How would it even work anyway?”
“We don’t have to even be vampires,” he reasoned. “Just look like it. Act like it.”
“It will never work. What if he tells people?”
“Tells them what? A pair of vampires chased him off his land? Vampires that happen to be the Secretary of the Treasury and his wife?”
“We are vampires, Alexander.”
“But no one has to know that!”
This wasn’t working at all. He met her eyes, walking slowly towards her. Eliza sucked in a breath as he gently uncrossed her arms, and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “My love. There is a woman upstairs whose husband is a far bigger demon than we are. We will just have to be creative enough that no one will suspect it’s not a game. Get some bats and dark cloaks. Chains perhaps. We’ll run him off and no one will be all the wiser.” And he kissed her, happy with the plan, and started looking around for where he last left his heavy winter cloak.
Eliza’s voice drifted after him, “Alexander! Where are we even going to get bats this time of year? Alexander!”
“Get creative!” Alex shouted back. “My Eliza is good at that!” He didn’t listen to her mumbled reply, but the snort of disdain was clear.
All in all, it took two weeks to get things ready. The list looked as follows:
Two black cloaks
A mess of chains with which to make a frightful rattling sound
Several ‘bats’ made of fabric and stuffed with pebbles when neither Eliza, nor Alex, nor Burr was able to procure any live ones
Flour, that then coated their hands and faces
“Ready?” Eliza asked, right on the edge of James Reynolds’ property. He got the feeling the question wasn’t meant for him. Beside Alex, Maria trembled once.
Then she nodded.
Alex grinned. “Let’s get the bastard.”
Stepping out of the trees Eliza let out a fearful shriek. Several feet away, Alex rattled the chains as loudly as he could.
“Who is there?!” James Reynolds called from inside the house. “I warn you, I’m armed!”
“Your reckoning,” Alexander answered, in as spooky voice as he could manage. Eliza had told him during their preparation, you don’t sound vampiric enough. Which was ridiculous, because clearly he sounded exactly like a vampire would sound.
He doesn’t have anything compared to Eliza though. When she called “James Reynolds”, her voice ethereal and chilling, even he shivered. There was a small whimper from the house.
“We have come for you,” Alex concluded, trying to speak as slowly and spookily as he could.
The door banged open. “Hamilton?”
He swore. “Reynolds.”
“What….” James Reynolds took in his pale complexion, the cloak, the chains, and the small pointed fangs that poked out of his mouth. “You! You….”
“Yes,” crooned Eliza, stepped out of the shadows. Already pale, she looked ghostly in the moonlight. “We have come for you….”
“Why?” He stepped back, apparently the joint forces of Eliza and Alex were sufficiently frightening. The fangs were hard to argue with.
“Your wife,” Alex snarled.
“You have my wife?” Two more steps back, his back hit the door. “You can have her, keep the whore, just leave me be! Take her as a, a, a sacrifice! I don’t want to die.”
Alex saw red. How dare the man call Maria his wife. How dare he, if he was not willing to protect her. He surged forward. Eliza laid a hand on his chest, and dug her nails in when that didn’t stop him. “Stick to the plan,” she hissed.
Yes. If successful, their plan was the best way to help Maria. He could rip Reynolds limb from limb later. “A sacrifice, yes, but not yours. She is our thrall now, and your daughter as well. A servant of the dark.”
Eyes wide, James Reynolds mouthed servant of the dark to himself.
“And we claim this as well,” Eliza waved her hand at the house. “All of it. This land is haunted, and woe befall the man who makes his home here. His joys will turn to ashes and his talents to misfortunes.”
Alex had written that bit out. He thought it was particularly poetic.
“Leave,” he hissed at Reynolds.
“Leave,” Eliza added her voice.
“Never return!” Alex grabbed the ‘bat’ out of his pocket, throwing it in Reynolds direction. The man screeched, ducking, and the pebble-stuffed bat hit the door. Alex screeched in return as it bounced off and hit him in the kidney.
“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!” Reynolds shouted. “I’ll do anything you want! I’ll leave, okay, I’ll leave!”
“Take nothing with you!” Eliza shouted, stepped back to allow the man a clear path away. “Never return! Never contact your family again!”
Alex blocked him for a moment. Though James Reynolds was almost a full head taller than he was, the man cowered. “If you ever lay a hand on a woman again….”
“I won’t! I won’t! I will be godly, I swear!”
Alex released him, still babbling promises. “Then go! Run to your God and never return!”
James Reynolds did not look back as he fled into the night. Less than a minute after he was gone, Alex and Eliza both doubled over with laughter.
“I did say you shouldn’t talk, dear,” Eliza said finally.
“Excuse me!” He pointed an accusing finger at her. “We were successful, we were not?”
“Thank you,” Maria was smiling as she stepped out of the trees. “Sir, Madam.”
“You must call us Alexander and Eliza,” his wife said, still suppressing laughter. “If you are to be our thrall, after all.”
Maria frowned. “I am not familiar with the word….”
Alex grinned. “It’s from one of Burr’s books. A servant kept by magical means. Have no fear, it was just a ruse to force Reynolds to let you stay.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Eliza interrupted him, her eyes shining with laughter. She turned to Maria. “How are you with laundry? I could sure use a thrall.”
Maria’s laugh was throaty and full and filled with joy. “Anything for my saviors.”
Two days later, Aaron Burr paid him a call. “Alexander.”
“Aaron Burr, sir.” He grinned up at the man, trying to determine if this was a business call or social. It was lunchtime, and their offices were right next door, so likely the former. Even so, he gave the man a speculative glance just in case. “What do you need?”
It was an entendre as well as a question, and Burr flushed. “It is of a delicate nature.”
“I love delicate natures.” He rested his head on his hands, waiting.
“James Reynolds left town yesterday, claiming that you had corrupted his wife by supernatural means.”
Alex hummed. “Ah. Well. That is very unfortunate. I heard he had a drinking problem to go with his gambling problem, I would call that the cause.”
“Alexander,” Burr rubbed his forehead. “Did you corrupt his wife by supernatural means?”
“Burr,” he adopted the same tone, this time slightly mocking. “You know more about vampires than even I do. Is such a thing even possible?”
“Not to my knowledge, but-”
“Nobody needs to know,” he said insistently. ”Let it be a drunken mistake. Let her have her freedom.”
Burr shook his head. “I will never understand you.” But he sighed, standing. “I’ll leave you to it.”
As he turned to leave, Alexander grabbed him by the arm. Threw caution into the wind. “I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
And to his everlasting joy, Burr swallowed hard, his eyes flicking up to Alex’s mouth, his eyes, and then back down to his mouth. “Yes.”
“Good. I look forward to discussing the constitution with you.” He enjoyed the briefest blush upon Burr’s cheeks before he scowled and stomped away. Alexander penned a quick letter to his wife, letting her know he’d be home late, and settled back in to work. Nobody needs to know.