Lauren parked in front. There were no other cars on the quiet street. As she approached the house, careful of the irregular sidewalk buckled from the roots of hundred-year-old trees, a shiver of foreboding ran up her spine. The house looked like a grande dame in partial ruin, clutching the remnants of her former glory. Lanterns on either side of the front door revealed peeling white paint and massive columns reminiscent of Tara after the Civil War, while an audio background of creaking planks strained under Lauren's feet. A swing swayed eerily on the expansive front porch.
Before she reached for the gargoyle knocker, the door opened with a pop, like it had been sealed shut. She peered into the musky foyer. A deep voice issued from the darkness, "Good evening. Please come in." Lauren inched across the threshold. She didn't need to close the door behind her. It creaked shut on its own.
A large, looming figure stepped out of the shadows. "Light?" The figure walked to a table in the foyer, struck a match and lit three candles in a candelabra. "There. That is better."
Lauren suppressed a gasp as the figure turned to her. There stood a reasonable facsimile of Rasputin. He flashed a dazzling smile, and the dentist in Lauren took over. She was a professional. She could handle this.
"So nice to meet you." She held out her hand.
"And you," he said, caressing her hand with long, cold fingers. "Would you like me to turn up the heat? It is a touch chilly this evening."
"No, I've got a built-in oven here." Lauren rubbed her pregnant belly.
"I am Erasmus Gephart," the man said, eyeing her round tummy, "though I am sure you surmised that already." His incisor glistened in the candlelight as he smiled.
She'd hoped he'd been the butler. Best not put too much stock in first impressions. "You come highly recommended."
He dismissed her compliment with a wave of his hand. "My credentials are impressive, but what is more important is whether I can assist you." For the first time, he gazed into her eyes with a penetrating stare. No doubt the same hypnotic gaze Rasputin used on Queen Alexandra.
Dr. Gephart curled his index finger in a hokey "come hither" gesture, and Lauren followed him through an arched doorway hung with mistletoe into a dimly-lit Victorian parlor.
"I see you've decorated for Christmas." Lauren nodded to the mistletoe.
"That has been up for years," Dr. Gephart said. "I have not yet put it to use."
Lauren shivered at the thought of Dr. Gephart's lips, which would surely be ice cold. She took in his eclectic decor, replete with red velvet upholstery on the ornately carved furniture and an assortment of Cuckoo clocks on the walls. He indicated a small loveseat for Lauren with a footstool at its base. She settled in, propping up her high-top pink sneakers.
Sitting in a throne-like chair across from her, Lauren thought that Dr. Gephart had a freakish sort of magnetism. Maybe it was his long black hair, streaked with silver, or the intensity of his dark blue eyes. She could understand how an unsuspecting human female could be seduced by him.
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