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“Gods, love,” he whispered against my skin, “What’re ye doin’ to me?”

And almost as abruptly as it had begun, his lips were gonefrom mine. His hands moved to my hips, gently lifting me aside as he stood. I opened my eyes, breathless, but this time he was still there before me. A barely visible flush hid the faint freckles under his eyes, and I smiled wryly up at him.

“We should get goin’.” His voice was rough velvet. “I’ll meet you there.”

18: Love Runs Away from Those Chasing Him

Awhile later I let myself in through the tall iron gates that guarded Locke Manor, my mouth still burning from the scalding hot soup I’d forced down before I left. The house was ablaze with light, a pattern of squares scattered across the lawn from the rooms above – it looked as though every room in the house was lit up, giving the whole building an inviting warmth that the symmetrical Georgian façade lacked during the day.

A large, dark stain marred the smooth limestone of the front step, and I edged around it to knock on the door. Isabel answered immediately. She wore her customary black – a knit top that hung loose around her collarbones and cigarette trousers – but something in her had shifted. Maybe it was how she lingered in the doorway, or the way her usual sharp edges seemed softer in the hallway light.

“Erin, come in.” She smiled more warmly than she had the last time we’d spoken, but I was sure there was something in herface I was misreading. Her quick, appraising look took in my jacket – Nicholas’s leather jacket, to be more precise – without comment. I wasn’t sure what had made me wear it, really.

“What did you do with the body?” I asked, as I followed her into the kitchen. A fire had been lit in the stove, and the room was stiflingly warm.

“I did what had to be done, since I was left to deal with it. Nick fled at the sight of her – to check on your welfare, I presume – and Adam came over conveniently squeamish.” She looked to the heavens. “It really was a most bizarre thing to awaken to – why someone would go to the effort to display her that way, propped up with her limbs spread-eagled so unnaturally, I do not know.”

I grimaced, but Isabel was still talking.

“… so I left her in the park for another to find.”

She paused, watching me from across the breakfast bar. “I might have burned her in the garden, but I suspected you might disapprove.” Turning to the drawer behind her, she rummaged around for a moment. “Do you wish to keep this?”

It was my yellow hat. Lovely. I didn’t know what was more offensive – her casual treatment of a dead body, or the insensitivity of offering the bloodstained piece of wool to me. I settled on the former.

“You left her in the park? You didn’t try to find out who she was, or let her family know? Anything?” I could hear the shrillness in my words, but I didn’t care.

She gave me a warning look. “What more could I do? Think carefully before you answer.”

She’s right. Anything else would draw suspicion.

“I suppose you couldn’t really take her to the hospital or call the police…” I admitted. “It’d look like you had something to do with it.”

“Very much so. Should I dispose of this?” She waved the hat again.

I recoiled. “Yes, thank you.”

To my relief, Adam walked into the kitchen, saving me from an awkward apology.

“Erin! I’m glad you’re here.” His usual easy manner faltered as he glanced at Isabel, reminding me how he’d denied they were friends. That was definitely a story I needed to hear.

I smiled back. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

The silence stretched. My eyes wandered the room, landing on the warm wooden countertops and professional-grade appliances. “Nice kitchen. I meant to say before…”

“Indeed.” Adam straightened the cuffs of his grey suit, his movements precise. “Though lately its contents suggest different ownership.” He pulled open the fridge door, revealing neat rows of medical blood bags.

“You don’t prefer… fresh?” I asked Isabel.

“My feeding habits remain my own affair,” Isabel said coldly, closing the fridge with enough force to make Adam step back. She crossed back over to me. “Incidentally, I assume you donate?”

I shot a look between them. Adam shrugged, but Isabel had already lost interest in my response, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Isabel?” I waved a hand in front of her.

“What is he doing now?” She murmured, seemingly to herself.

“Who? Nick?” Adam asked, watching her with interest.