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“What can you see?” He continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I am certain they’re using the house; you were correct. It’s protected as vampires tend to protect buildings – I suspect there may be some kind of trap at the front door. It’s ajar, but it must be held in some way: this blasted wind isn’t moving it.” He kept his voice low, regardless of the growing light and the noise of the rain.

“Can you see the shelter?” Tom asked.

“Not from my current position. I would prefer to wait awhile longer and make sure there is no movement within before I move closer,” he breathed. Adam could imagine the expression on Tom’s face at his suggestion of wasting more time, but his tone was controlled as he answered.

“Okay. But don’t take too long – this could be our best chance to get in and out without violence.”

“I understand. I wish to help Erin, too, if you recall. Thatisthe reason I’m here, Tom.” He kept the frustration and fear out of his voice as he ended the call – it wouldn’t do any good.

Sinking lower into the grass, Adam rolled over and stared up at the sky for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Icy raindrops hit him heavily in the face, catching in his long eyelashes and plastering his white blonde hair darkly to his head. He stomped down the surge of annoyance that came with this further indignity and tried to think.

If the house was empty, they were either somewhere else entirely, lying in wait, or with Erin in person. The barns beyond the farmhouse could be a bother – there were far too many dark corners where a vampire could lurk, too many places where he could find himself trapped. But the only way to find out for certain was to move. If the action caused him to be seen, then perhaps they could be lured from their hiding place. If they were with Erin… well, hedidneed to find her.

On hands and knees, he crawled toward the far-right of the building, mud soaking through his ruined jeans. Each gust of wind whipped icy rain sideways, obscuring his vision. He paused every few metres, pressing himself flat against the saturated earth. Skeletal tree branches creaked overhead, and he foundhimself absurdly grateful for the sound masking his movements. Though what good his stealth did against vampire senses, he wasn’t entirely sure.

The farmhouse remained still – no movement, no light, no sign of life, dead or otherwise. Even the windows seemed to watch him with malevolent emptiness. Standing, he still couldn’t see a damn thing, but at least it was easier to move while upright.

Adam crept closer to the building and, avoiding the windows, edged up against the stone. Once around the corner, the shelter finally came into view. It was bigger than he’d been expecting, and the exterior that was exposed had been painted the same green as the window frames, though it was peeling far less from the metal curves.

He might not have the advanced hearing of his friends, but Adam didn’t need it for the shrill cry from the shelter to reach him as the wind died down momentarily. The sound hit him like a physical blow. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clenched against memories of their easy friendship over coffee just days ago. Even through the obvious pain, he recognised Erin’s voice – and worse, he recognised the kind of torture that might produce such a sound. A century and a half of life had taught him that much, at least.

Trying to remain rational, he considered the facts. For Erin to make such a noise, at least one vampire was in there with her. Hopefully, both, because it made his own position less perilous. He could call Tom, but at the confirmation that Erin was inside, he knew the lad would come running and do something foolish before Adam could stop him. He didn’t know Tom particularlywell, but he suspected Erin might be peeved with him if her rescue came at the expense of her fragile friend. Instead, he would have to get closer – perhaps if he could hear better, he could get an idea of how many people were inside.

With a glance back toward the lifeless building, he made a run for the shelter, his boots skidding in the wet grass.

In his haste, Adam never stopped to think about whether the vampires would want to spend the night sleeping in the shelter with their prisoner. As he righted himself from the mud, finding his balance on the treacherous ground, the metal door swung open. What at first appeared to be Nicholas and Isabel stepped out into the rain, looking straight at him with a stillness that made his heart stutter.

Without thinking – though really, he ought to have known better – he bolted. He managed less than three steps before a cold, bare arm snaked around his middle with alarming strength. He yelled, his arms still free, and attempted to elbow his captor in the ribs with as much force as he could muster. He succeeded only in bruising his elbow rather spectacularly.

“What a lovely surprise! We didn’t expect you so soon.” A breathy voice whispered in his ear. “I didn’t think you’d risk yourself for her.”

“Unhand me!” Adam panted as he struggled to get loose, knowing even as he said it how absurd the request was. The other vampire appeared before him, pinning his arms to his side. The scent of petrichor and wet earth was overwhelmed by something chemical and bitter.

“Tell me, what manner of creatureêtes-vous?” the vampireasked, his eyebrows furrowed. The downpour plastered his dark locks over his disfigured face and mouth, but he seemed not to notice. Adam noted the rolling French accent and extensive scarring in some distant, analytical part of his mind, understanding that this could only be Alistair. The rest of him was rather preoccupied.

“That’s none of your concern,” he spat the words, summoning what he hoped was a suitably withering glare. A century of perfecting scathing remarks, and he’d been reduced to aglare.

“You are no vampire, yet neither do you smell human.Très étrange…neither one thing nor the other.” Alistair seemed intrigued but distracted, glancing toward the horizon as he spoke. It was clear he was worryingly curious about Adam, who knew he couldn’t afford to have anyone digging into his past.

“Il fautwe return inside, Émilie, or this will not work. Throw him in withla chasseusefor now; they can sit out this stormy day together. We will solve this new puzzle later.”

Émilie must have responded behind him because she released her arm from his waist and grabbed firmly at his neck with one bony hand before he could try to move. Her grip was like iron, and he was unable to resist as she pushed his head down, dragging him towards the shelter. He stumbled through the door as it slammed behind him.

Adam winced at the screech of metal against metal as they slid chain after chain through the latch on the door, his eyes attempting to adjust to the total and complete darkness inside. There was silence but for the sound of the rain.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, kicking half-heartedly at the door in frustration. “Damn.”

34: Capture & Escape

Something had changed again. My head throbbed from dehydration as consciousness returned, the scent of coppery blood still lingering from Émilie’s last visit.

I didn’t remember much of it. Alistair had been there, though. The burning anger in my veins at the sight of him had protected me a little from the pain that came with her presence – though not enough to prevent me from crying out as she sliced at the delicate skin of my inner thigh. Presumably I’d passed out, but now there was a sound in the bunker with me that hadn’t been there before. I was so engrossed in listening to the unfamiliar noise that it took me a full minute to notice my arms were strangely free.

“Erin?” A voice spoke from my right, and I flinched, the thin scabs on my stomach cracking at the sudden movement. His voice was too familiar to be true.

“Adam?” I croaked. I couldn’t believe it. “What are you doing here?”