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Even knowing who he was and the things he’d done, the nod he gave in response horrified me. Though I had no clue how a vampire could get caught in the first place – the idea seemed absurd. “And you made it out? How?”

He exhaled sharply, a plume of white breath escaping into the cold air. “With nae help from Isabel, I’ll tell you that. It wisnae easy, but I managed to get a few letters out of the camp, begging for her aid. I’d thought it worth the risk, that my friend would come and we’d… Well, it isnae worth dwelling on. It was a long time ago.”

“I don’t understand,” I pushed. “Surely for… someone like you – it’d be easy to escape a place like that?” Not to mention, I didn’t see how he could have kept his true nature a secret in such close quarters. He’d have to have fed somehow.

“For a vampire, you mean?” He dug his right thumb into the palm of his left hand, grinding it into the flesh and edging forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Mayhap you’re right, love. A three-metre wall isnae so difficult to scale,” he said, hisvoice doubtful, “but there were others. And I was all they had.

“Those who dared to run rarely made it far – and believe me, plenty tried. The camp was well-equipped for shooting runaways, and making an example of them.” He shook his head, and a lock of unruly hair fell into his eyes. “It winnae ha’ been the first time I’d been shot, either – that wisnae the issue. After the battles I’ve seen, t’would be a miracle if I hadnae had my fair share of wounds, from gun and from blade. But back then, the unknown was the thing I was most afeart of. Their automatic machines were new. The world was changed, and I had no way but the hard way to ken how their weapons might affect me.” He paused. “The camp was liberated no long after, but still… I lost good friends to that place.”

He shifted in his seat, his eyes fixed on the moon as the last wisp of cloud drifted across its surface, leaving a clear indigo-black expanse. I watched his clasped hands, his long fingers moving restlessly. I didn’t know what to say.

“While I stayed, I could help. Without Isabel, twas all I dared do.” His accent became more pronounced as he grew more restless. “I lost count o’ the times my true self was almost exposed. I believed, foolishly, she’d at least wish to keep our secret.” He shook his head. “At least my…special dietreduced the Nazi ranks a bit.”

Considering all Wyatt had said, it seemed senseless for her to abandon him like that. “Why didn’t she help?”

“Grief,” he said plainly, turning to face me. This time I didn’t look away. “Love, you might say. She was mournin’ her husband.”

I blinked a few stray snowflakes from my eyelashes and met his eye – his emerald gaze was bright and clear. Caught up in his stare, I had to remind myself – again – that I was talking to a murderer. A vampire, despite everything he’d been through. A tremor ran through me, and I pulled my scarf more tightly around myself.

“Is that why you’ve come here? For revenge? Or reconciliation?” I fought to keep my voice steady as I took back control of the conversation, with little success.

“I’m hurt ye’d trust her word, Erin,” he said, rubbing one hand across the faint line of stubble at his jaw.

I bristled. “So I’m supposed to trust you, instead?” I took a deep breath, trying to reign in my emotions. “What am I supposed to think, Cole? Nicholas – whatever your name really is. As far as I can tell, you’re both accusing each other – and you’re doing it right to my face, with no thought for the fact that my friends aredying.”

“I havnae accused anybody,” he shot back. “Though I’ve given it a deal o’ thought,” he admitted. “And despite everything, I ken Izzie. She values family above all else, and she winnae go so far as to harm mine.” He ran his fingers through his already windswept hair, the dark waves falling across his forehead as he dislodged a few snowflakes.

“Family?” I echoed. Several things slipped into place in my mind like the pieces of a jigsaw. I could almost see it—

“Jonathan Weston.”

“Jonathan wasn’t a vamp—” I began.

“Aye,” he cut across me. “But as you know, he didnae haveto be. He was visiting his uncle in Edinburgh, was he no?” He smiled, looking out across the dam below. “My home, if I can still call it that.”

This was it. Finally. The full picture.

“I left at fifteen. Abandoned my responsibilities at home to follow the Earl of Tullibardine into battle, though my pa disagreed with supporting the Covenanters,” he explained, sitting up straighter as he spoke of his father. “I was too young to fight, but I was already tall. And no one paid much mind. The Earl needed soldiers, I supposed, and I didnae even really care which side I fought on. I only wanted to fight.”

It was easy to forget he’d been human once – though he didn’t exactly seem like the usual vampires I came across even now. He’d had a father and a mother. Which meant he could still have living relatives – and the possibility of Jon being one of them was suddenly very real.

“I first fought at Tippermuir. I dinnae ken what I thought I’d find on the battlefield, but I didnae find it. Gods, I barely understood the politics enough to ken if Scotland had won or lost.” He almost smiled, but these weren’t stories I’d heard of. I had no idea how to respond.

“I read about it, after. They called it a bloodbath. But history books cannae tell you what twas really like. It’s hard to imagine, the things we’ll do to one another in times of war.”

He started to rise, before apparently thinking better of it and clasping his hands together once more.

“I wondered more than once if I was in hell. I’d left my home to be a soldier, and part of me wanted to stay and do myduty, but… in the end, I deserted. Dinnae ken quite how I managed it, but I fled. Ran til I couldnae hear the sounds of battle.” He paused again; his voice rougher. “I couldnae go back to my family. I knew my pa winnae forgive cowardice, even if he’d approved o’ the cause. So it wisnae til years later that I finally learned I had a brother.”

“Jonathan’s ancestor,” I murmured, staring at him in awe. It wasn’t a question.

“Aye. The latest and last of my descendants, if you dinnae count James – though I’ve long doubted he’ll have children o’ his own. With Jonathan gone, my bloodline will be lost to time.”

A passing cloud momentarily obscured the moon, shrouding his green eyes in shadow and turning them black. My gaze was locked on his and I barely noticed the clouds rolling in, the soft hush of snow swirling softly around us.

There it was. Jonathan Weston shared blood with Nicholas Murray… it explained why I’d felt such familiarity with Cole when we’d first met – like some part of me had known him forever. But even that didn’t make sense, did it?

I sighed, breaking free of the moment. “So you were always the soldier… Why, if you hated it so much?”