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“How do I find him?”

Her blank expression wavered. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t been able to sense him, and the vampires of this city are proving to be stubbornly uncooperative.” A frown crossed her face for a moment before it was gone. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was used to people doing as she asked, and what was different now that she was here.

Wyatt tugged at the gloved fingertips of her right hand, removing one finely made leather glove, and then the other. On the third finger of her left hand, she wore a simple, pale golden band.

Noticing my attention, she smiled a little and continued. “Be assured, had I knowledge of his whereabouts I would have put an end to this already. We live in a new world. Discretion is no longer simply good manners, but a requirement for survival.” She pursed her lips in irritation. “It is not as easy to hide from modern technology as it was to hide from a poorly organised police force.”

So therewassomething she was afraid of – or at least worried about. The thought gave me a vindictive moment of pleasure.

“What do you expect me to do about it? I don’t see how I’d be more likely to find him than you.”

“You are the target, Erin.” I wasn’t a fan of the humour in her voice. “Nicholas might be after my attention, but I am certain the only reason he chose this city, this world… is you. The girl who died – your friend – she looked a little like you, did she not?”

I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry. “Why are you trying to help me? You said you were friends.”

When she sighed, I almost believed she was genuinely sad. “I also told you I am not the same vampire you have read so much about. Nicholas and I have a great deal of history, it’s true. But if it wasyourfriend risking the exposure of your species, would you allow it?

“When you have lived as long as I, loss is inevitable. But murder is not. I will kill when killing is necessary, but even the thrill of holding a life in one’s hands loses its appeal after a while. For him, it seems the appeal of the game remains.”

The way she said it sounded so reasonable, I didn’t knowwhat to make of it.

“Oh.”

Her face broke into a smile that lit up her face, though it also emphasised the stark sharpness of her teeth. For a second she almost seemed youthful. Even carefree.

“It is difficult to believe, I know. But the boy who helps you, he will be able to confirm the truth. I challenge him, here and now, to find a death linked to my name in the last century.” She paused and blinked. “An innocent death, anyway.”

The sun was almost gone now. While we’d been speaking, my nerves had settled. My dagger was still a reassuring weight against my arm as I considered her words, but I wasn’t as afraid anymore. She was powerful, but in this at least, she wanted my help.

“Okay. You’ve got me. But if you want us to look for this Murray guy, surely you’ve got an idea where we can start?”

Wyatt sighed. “Unfortunately, I believe he will find you before you find him. You’re—” Her gaze travelled up and down my body and I tried not to flush, “Very much Cole’s type.”

I looked away, and ran a hand through my tangled hair, watching the last few rays of light ebb away as the sun fell below the horizon. Was that what made her think I was a target? My red hair? Had Maggie been killed over something so petty?

“Wait, what do you mean, Cole?” I turned back to ask, but she was gone.

10: Winged Cupid, Painted Blind

That evening, I sat cross-legged in the icy chill of the attic, staring blankly at my incomplete mural and rubbing my hands together over the electric heater. The painting was pretty much a lost cause at this point. When I’d planned it, I’d hoped for a warm, fresh nature piece – something in autumnal shades to bring some colour to Jolt. But that was before Jon had died. I hadn’t touched it since, and now, with my mood soured, the whole scene came off as… well, menacing.

I’d messaged Tom the moment I’d arrived home, hoping he might come over so I could recount my still somewhat surreal conversation with Wyatt – but he hadn’t read any of my messages. Given the way things had been going lately, I couldn’t help but worry.

The canvas felt like it was pulling me into its dark corners as I gazed at it, and I had to tear my eyes away to focus. Wyatt’s last words still lingered in my mind, and though I didn’t much like it, it hit me that she might have given me just enough to lure Murray into the open. I turned over the idea. Any saneperson would say it was too risky – but I was already downstairs, pulling on my favourite DMs. I’d have preferred to have talked it through with Tom first, but I wasn’t sure how long the current reprieve from deaths would last, and it didn’t feel like I had the luxury of time.

As I unlocked the front door, I caught sight of the leather jacket Cole had lent me when he’d helped fix my car. It seemed like forever ago, and for a moment I contemplated pulling it on – wrapping myself in its warmth and inhaling the scent that I was sure still lingered in the fabric…No, wrong move, Erin.

It took a few minutes for the mist to clear from my car windows once the engine was on. I waited, trying to keep my breathing under control. I had to relax to make this work. If I seemed even a little unnatural or tense, the whole plan was doomed. I pulled out onto the empty street.

Sheffield was a city of contrasts, industrial to the end but filled with lush trees and greenery that bled into the glorious rolling countryside and hills of the Peak District. No matter where you were in the city, you could look up and see hills and trees, with wide open spaces a quick car ride away – which was why I could never leave this place for long. A blend of opposites, literally anyone could find an escape here. Unless you were looking to escape the rain, in which case you were out of luck.

I set off along the already slushy roads, the engine warming the inside of my car until I was uncomfortably hot in my scarf. For a moment, I convinced myself that the headlights behind me were following me, but I shook it off. I didn’t come this way in the dark all that often – I knew better than most what couldhide beyond the city lights. As the thought crossed my mind, I reached the edge of the last row of houses, and like a candle sputtering out, the streetlights simply stopped.

My brights came on automatically, cutting a pale, narrow path through the darkness ahead. Mile by mile, my isolation grew until finally the weight of solitude settled around me and I pulled over into a barely visible lay-by. As the hum of the engine died away, I climbed out of the car and crossed over to the old wooden bench that was a favourite spot of mine: surrounded by endless hills and valleys on one side and a panoramic city view on the other.

The snow had subsided to a few odd flakes here and there, but the air was bitingly crisp and clear. Even knowing why I’d come, it was peaceful. It felt like a lifetime since I’d last made it to my spot – though looking at the city from above had a way of soothing me. I should have made more effort to come up here in the last few weeks. I’d have felt better for it.

The city was bathed in a shimmering aura of light – like a glowing bubble of protection around its occupants, who slept on, unaware of the undead that prowled their streets while they dreamed. Up here, though, there was nothing but the sound of the wind and my breath to distract me as I waited. I inhaled slowly and deliberately – the last thing I needed was to seem on edge right now. Around me, the snow on the ground sparkled, muffling sound from the road behind. But it was late, and I didn’t expect to be disturbed. As I watched, one by one, the stars winked into existence.