Page 14

I scanned the shadows as I strolled around the park’s fenced perimeter, my thoughts tugged back to a conversation I’d once had with Jon about dying. That same night, we’d written down our last wishes, sealing them into three envelopes for safekeeping. I’d never really believed we’d have to open them. At least, Jon’s or Tom’s.

I pulled my sleeves down over my fingers, tucking them into the wool. My breath condensed in a cloud of vapour before me, blurring my vision. The envelopes had been a precaution. I’d known the chances of my slip of paper seeing the light of day grew higher every night, but I’d thought my friends were safe. What could possibly happen from the safety of home, researching and training, never really fighting? I wouldn’t have gotten this far without them.

Tom resented it, I knew. He wanted to be out every night, with me – and I got it. To him, clearing out the vamps was a question of moral responsibility and goodness. He didn’t know I enjoyed it far too much for it to begood. The thrill of the fight, the rush of a kill. What was moral about that?

The park entrance was already locked when I reached it, but I vaulted the iron gate with ease. A lock had never kept me out of anywhere as a kid, and it wouldn’t keep out the determined ones now, either. Maybe moody teens were all I’d find tonight – but a newbie vamp or two would make a better dessert than Tom’s tiramisu had.

The sweeping lawns and gentle hills of the park stretched toward the horizon, their colour leeched away by the artificial light. In the day, the trees would be glorious: fireworks of orangeand yellow leaves clinging to the last vestiges of autumn. Now, the dim lamps only illuminated the paths, forcing the life and colour of the day to retreat into shadow.

As I made my way between the odd, abandoned stone buildings that were placed at key locations around the park, I wondered what the original owners would think of the place now. I’d read it had once been the grounds of a mansion home until the aristocracy that lived there had gone bankrupt and were forced to auction off the land and property. The house itself had fallen into disrepair and been demolished decades ago, but the grounds had been bought by the local government and now belonged to the public. Which included my favourite place, and all that remained of the former stately home: overgrown walled gardens behind the old lodge.

My legs took me in that direction without much thought, and I pushed through the curtain of winter jasmine that hid the rotting wooden gate, breathing in its heady fragrance. A small pond ahead was green and overrun with lilies, the paths cracked and uneven underfoot, and ivy had overtaken a good portion of the place, crawling up every tree and pergola. But it was undeniably beautiful. There was something about walking under the trellises that felt like you were in on an ancient secret, and a peaceful silence lay over everything.

The old lodge loomed ahead, its stone walls weathered by decades of neglect. Empty windows gaped like a hollowed-out pumpkin in the moonlight, the shattered glazing long gone.

There was no light or sound from within, even when I turned my senses up to eleven. But once in a while, the lodge’soccupants would spot me coming from the upper storey and hide. I sighed, but I’d come this far. It was always worth double-checking.

Pushing aside the heavy door, I stepped into the room I thought of as the kitchen, a cracked porcelain sink in one corner the only piece of furniture. I cast my senses outward and upward, shuddering with effort, but no warmth or light echoed back.

The stone steps were worn smooth from centuries of footfall, but the gritstone held firm beneath my boots. Moonlight filtered through the empty windows, casting strange shadows across the stairwell. I’d been here enough times to know where it was safe to put my feet, but if I was honest, I knew they should tear the place down – for the sake of the local teens’ safety, if nothing else. The problem was, if that happened, people would realise the garden was here, and they would overrun my little place.

The first landing was as empty as I’d suspected, the internal walls and floor now almost entirely gone. Taking care with each step, I proceeded across the main beam that ran through the house. The joists on either side were heavy with rot, but I’d crossed this one plenty of times with no problem – and it was only way to get to the attic stairs at the other side of the building. I paused at the edge of the room and listened once more. Nothing looked out of place – the usual debris littered the remaining areas of floorboards, along with a fair number of discarded drinks cans and crisp packets. I shivered at a creak in the room above me. As silently as possible, I made my way up.

Teenagers didn’t normally make it this far in – it was fairly precarious without the added benefit of supernatural balance and speed. It had happened once or twice, but chances were, if there was something up here besides a pigeon or two, I’d have a fight on my hands.

At the top of the stairs, a gust of wind swept through the hollow building with an eerie howl, almost knocking me back a step. A small, furry creature scurried away into a dark shadowy corner across the room, but otherwise, everything seemed as abandoned as ever.

I waited, freezing in the cold wind. My usual approach of throwing out my senses said the place was empty, but deeper down, something didn’t feel… right. Maybe my aim was off, or the wine was still working its way out of my system. I had to be sure.

There were plenty of floorboards remaining up here, but none of them looked particularly safe. I scanned them, searching for the supporting joists beneath decades of dust and rubbish. The central beam seemed least damaged – but was farthest from the support of the walls. Typical.

Steeling myself, I took small steps onto the beam. Each movement sent tiny vibrations through the timber, my excellent balance the only thing between me and the shadows below. A few more steps and I was halfway. One more step… An ominous creak shuddered beneath my boots as my senses jangled, screaming at me to stop. I spun into a crouch without thinking.

If I hadn’t been so hyped up, the resounding crack as wood splintered beneath me would probably have happened in slowmotion. But my senses were sharp, and instead, I was momentarily weightless as the beam split and the floor collapsed around me. With a cry, I threw out my arms, smashing into the next beam on the floor below. The fall forced the air from my lungs, and I gasped, winded, and tried to gather myself to crawl to the edge of the room. Before I could turn, the wood beneath me groaned and splintered, the sound echoing through the hollow building. I scrabbled for a handhold, my fingers slipping through the dirt and debris, but everything around me was falling too.

My muscles reacted faster than my mind, and I twisted in on myself to avoid cracking my head as I landed, throwing out my left arm to cushion my skull. My ankle, hip and ribs jarred on impact with the bare stone, the shock reverberating through my body. Icy, stagnant water saturated my clothes as my eyes drifted closed.

When I became aware of the room again, the dust from above was still settling around me like powdery snow. Winded as I was, I struggled to breathe through it – but adrenaline pounded through my system, forcing me to keep pulling in air. Bit by bit, my heart rate slowed, and my panic subsided as oxygen flooded back into my lungs. I let out a low groan.What the actual fuck was that?

Pain pulsed down one side of my body, where I’d taken the force of the fall. My head told me to get up and out of the unstable building, but it was all I could do to close my eyes against the ringing that vibrated through my skull. I breathed deeply, willing it to stop.

It’s the middle of the bloody night, Erin. Nobody knows you’re here. Move your arse.

With an effort, I pulled myself into a sitting position. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” I swore through my teeth.

My left elbow throbbed – the most noticeable of my injuries – and I struggled to focus on much else until a voice spoke behind me.

“Easy there, lass. Best stay still a moment while we make sure you’re in one piece.” The words had a soft cadence, but I still jumped at the sound. It wasn’t often anyone sneaked up on me.

In the moonlight that fell through the fractured ceiling, my heart caught in my throat. The voice belonged to a figure in the doorway – an all too familiar ghost. As he stepped into the light, I found myself staring at his finely drawn features.

A wariness entered his expression as his eyes travelled across my filthy, soaked form. “Are you okay?”

I knew he’d asked a question, but I couldn’t answer. Green, almond-shaped eyes flecked with gold peered at me in utter confusion, and that nagging sense of familiarity tugged at me again – though Jon’s eyes had been hazel, and hedefinitelywasn’t Jon. This stranger was striking in his own right – high, wide cheekbones, a firm jaw and a full mouth currently pulled into an expression of worry. His long coat and loose scarf gave him an air of easy elegance, even as he crouched in the rubble beside me, arms resting on his knees.

I shook my head, instantly regretting it when the night spun around me. “My elbow’s hurt. And my ankle and hip.And, you know, my pride.”

Fuck, he looks like him. But it isn’t. Look. Listen. He’s gone.