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He glanced at her, eyes shining, before turning back to Erin. “I do. Truly.”

“Nicholas… she’s gone. You have a responsibility. See to it.” Isabel strode from the room without looking back at him, already feeling guilty for her harsh words.

???

Downstairs, Adam sat with his long fingers wrapped around his mug, staring out of the kitchen window – it was the one room in the house that wasn’t heavily curtained and sealed off to the light outside. The sun had set behind the trees in the large, bare, winter garden just minutes ago. Behind him, Izzie entered the room. No one else in the manor was capable of functioning at the moment. It could only be her.

“I don’t suppose he was in a mood to be reasoned with?” Adam inquired, his attention still fixed on the garden beyond the glass. She pulled up a stool beside him, able to catch the beauty of the remnants of the sun without any apparentdiscomfort.

“He is waiting for her to wake. Did you know that?” Her tone was accusatory.

“No, though I suspected as much,” he paused, shifting to look at her. “Could she?”

Izzie shook her head. “It has been days. There’s no sign of any change in her. Perhaps if I’d given her more of my blood, but even so…”

“There must be some way to be certain,” Adam mused, returning his gaze to the window. “Your blood must carry considerable potency, given your age.”

“My blood cannot wake the dead, Adam. Only change the living. That much, we know for certain. It has always been so.”

A voice came from behind them, and the vampire and the immortal both jumped at the sound.

“You dinnae know everythin’, Isabel.” Nicholas stood by the door, framed by the warm light of the hallway. The restraint that had defined him for the last century and a half had gone, replaced by something ancient that made the air itself feel chill. His acid-burned clothing hung in tatters, but it was the stillness that made Adam’s throat go dry. A coiled tension that promised violence on a scale he’d never witnessed, even in war. “There’s still a deal we cannae understand. So, we wait.”

“Nick – even if we wait, you must inform her family.” Adam struggled to his feet at the sight of his friend, but didn’t move closer. “You have a responsibility to Erin. Tom is hardly in a fit state to do so.”

Nick’s green-gold eyes flashed as they met Adam’s, and he sawan emptiness there that promised retribution. “Aye. I do have a responsibility.” He pushed a hand through his tangled hair. “Aye.”

Izzie and Adam shared a look, a mutual understanding flickering between them as Nick turned on his heel and walked away. Seconds later, the front door slammed.

“Bloody hell.” Isabel rarely swore, but at that moment it seemed appropriate.

“He must have taken us to be referring to—”

“Émilie.” She finished his sentence as a heavy thud reverberated through the house’s old bones, loud enough to cut through the stillness from two floors above. They both glanced up and with a slight stirring of the air, Isabel disappeared. Adam followed, limping after her as fast as he was able, cursing Tom under his breath. The human had probably decided to go after Émilie, too.

At the top of the ornate iron staircase, Adam caught up with Isabel. She was frozen in the hallway, her face filled with a curious surprise.

“What is it?” he asked warily, stepping towards her.

Isabel’s eyes searched his own, meeting them in confusion. “Did you tell Nicholas about my blood? That I had tried to heal Erin?”

Adam shook his head, uncomprehending. It seemed so long ago, now – and futile besides.

“I thought not.” Isabel’s pale face broke into an unexpected grin: her first smile in days. “His bedroom is empty. Erin is gone.”