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“Move on a few decades, another war breaks out and I refused to enlist – I find the whole thing distasteful, as you know. So, Nicholas reconciles with his old Paris buddy – you didn’t mention Nick: did you turn him or was he already a vampire when you met?” He stopped. “Sorry,irrelevant,” Adam apologised, his sarcasm evident.

“Then the two vampire war heroes get themselves involved in politics far above either of their heads, is that right?”

“It wisnae like that, Adam,” Murray muttered, grudgingly. “Ye ken what happened. He winnae have joined up if it hadnae been for me. I spent weeks convincin’ him it was a worthy cause, that we could do some good. But they took us prisoner.”

Tom followed the thread: Paris hunting partner and roommate to war companion to fellow prisoner. No wonder Nicholas had never mentioned him – the guilt of encouraging someone to fight, only to watch them suffer…

Isabel straightened, her eyes widening. “Ah, this was when you were away. When you let—”

“I had naught to do with your husband’s death, Isabel. I didnaelethim die,” Murray replied sharply. “But aye, we were imprisoned together. There were… tests,” he paused, remembering.

“I was older. Better at hidin’ my nature than he was…” The temperature seemed to drop with each word. Tom found himself leaning forward despite himself, the leather of the chest creaking beneath him. Even Isabel had gone impossibly still, more statue than vampire. “But there were few of us they couldnae find a use for. Tests for gases, drugs, chemicals… more torment than I care to think on. They didnae intend us to live.”

“What happened to him?” Tom asked as the silence stretched out, his jaw clenching. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Murray – for Nicholas – but…

Nicholas shrugged. “Twas all in the diary. The experiments ended when you werenae useful nae more. I was stronger: my body took the damage better and recovered faster. But toward the end, we were relocated with the rest.” He put his palms together between his knees, staring at the floor.

“When their scientists had learned all they could from us, they sent us on to Auschwitz.” Nicholas’s fingers dug into his knees. “He died: burned, blistered, half-blind and half-madfrom the pain and repeated exposure.” A muscle twitched in Isabel’s jaw as she watched him. “I dinnae fully ken how I escaped myself.

“I was thin, I suppose. Starved. I already looked like a corpse. I hid among bodies that had once been people I’d tried to protect. Aye, my low heart rate worked in my favour that time, but barely…” His eyes glazed over, flinching at memories only he could see. “I dream of it, sometimes. Cold hands, searchin’ for a pulse I didnae have.”

Isabel gazed at Nicholas with the most peculiar expression.

“I don’t think he died there, Nick,” Adam said, all irritation gone. “None of this was in the diary.”

Nicholas didn’t seem to be listening. “I – I couldnae go back to check for certain, after the camp was liberated. Mayhap I should have, but I didnae think I needed to.” He swallowed. “He was young, the starvation and the… it took too much from him. There was nothin’ I could’ve done—” For the first time, uncertainty crept into his voice, his accent becoming more pronounced with each word.

“Nick, we don’t blame you. I cannot imagine how hard the idea of going back would have been. But we need to know if this man, this friend of yours – could he be here now?”

Isabel knelt before the broken vampire as he stared into nothingness, hesitating. “If he believes you left him for dead, then…”

“The gas almost took me, that last time,” he said, pleading.

“I know. You do not have to justify yourself to me. I understand—”

“No, Izzie!” Nicholas burst out, standing up and pushing her away. “You have no idea what it was like in there. No for hundreds of years have you felt genuine fear for your life – if ever! You dinnae ken how hard it was to hold on – they could have exposed us all!” He swallowed loudly. “They werenae above experimentin’ on the dead, and they more than suspected me by then. Even stayin’ out of the sun, weak, unable to feed…” He sat back down, the fight leaving him as swiftly as it had appeared.

“We can’t know,” Tom agreed, staring at him. “But right now, Erin’s a prisoner, like you once were. We don’t know what they’re doing to her. If she’s still alive—” His voice broke, and he began again. “We need to know if there’s the smallest chance this vampire lived. We’ve got nothing else to go on.”

Tom picked up the leather-bound book and showed him the spine, where he’d noticed the newer stitching earlier. “Did you remove these pages or did someone else?”

Nicholas took the diary and examined it for a second, placing it back on the dresser. He glared at Adam, not speaking, his green eyes burning. Tom struggled to keep his breathing calm, unable to pull in enough oxygen as they all awaited an answer; some fragment that might lead them to Erin.

“I didnae remove the pages,” he said finally. “And the flowers – they’re violets, I remember now. His mother’s favourite. He would press them into the letters he wrote to her.

“There were violets where Maggie died – I, uh – I saw the photographs,” Nicholas murmured. “I always left roses. He mayhap didnae ken, so he used his mother’s flowers.” His voice hardened. “I thought it a coincidence.”

“A fuckingcoincidence?” Tom could hardly believe the vampire could have been so blind. “Nothing about this has been anything other than carefully planned, but you didn’t think to mentionanyof this?”

Nicholas’s shoulders sagged as though under an impossible weight. “Tis my greatest shame.” His voice cracked on the words. “Of all the sins I’ve committed, this one…” He couldn’t finish, and Tom noticed his hands were trembling at his sides. “I thought him dead. That no soul could survive that place. I… cannae imagine how bad the damage must have been, if it truly is Alistair le Normand. If he’s already removed the evidence of our friendship from my diary, then it seems he blames me for what happened.” He sighed. “And I dinnae blame him. We must move quickly.”

32: A Flaying is Only Fair

After Alistair’s tirade, I was left alone with my thoughts. My stomach cramped – fuck knows when I’d last eaten anything. Intermittently being drugged unconscious didn’t exactly do much for my sense of time, and while the slow movement of faint light gave me something to go on, it wasn’t too specific about mealtimes.

I’d long since stopped trying to find a comfortable position, and my legs were still dead – not that it looked like I’d be needing them any time soon. My escape plan hadn’t exactly come along as I’d hoped, given the grogginess, injuries and my utter inability to do so much as shift position.

Alistair’s words lingered in my mind long after he’d left. My breath clouded in front of my face as I sighed, trying to flex my frozen fingers. How was I supposed to look Nicholas in the eye now, and trust he was a good man?