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“You can take my Jeep.” I added. “It’s less recognizable than Harlen’s car. You’ll drive straight through, no stops, except for gas. Seven hours to the condo. No social media posts, no responding to texts from unknown numbers and emails.”

“This is bullshit!” Morgan barked. “This all started over some low-life drug dealer that isn’t even here anymore.”

She was right. “Lonzo might have started this, but Marisol has taken over with the help of Teresa. Now we have two vampires to worry about. Maybe more.” There was nothing else to hold back. I wanted them to know the danger they were in. They needed vampire protection.

“I still can’t believe Marisol is a vampire.” Chanel said like she was talking to herself and not to us.

“Believe it. I saw it with my own eyes. She’s a fucking vamp.” Harlen barked. He’d seen it firsthand.

I’d seen Marisol as a vampire, too. It was from a private businesses outside surveillance cameras. So far, Harlen had been truthful with me. I felt I could trust him.

I continued outlining the plan and emergency protocols. I shared the layout of the condo and handed the keys over tomy brother. Harlen’s focus surprised me. There was none of his usual flippancy. He understood the gravity of the situation and the responsibility of keeping Morgan safe. At first, I thought he was just eager to win me over and get back on my good side. Now, I believed he really had a thing for Morgan. I’d never seen him like this, and I didn’t know how to react to it.

Morgan disappeared into the guest room. She returned minutes later with a small duffel bag, a backpack and a large rolling suitcase.

“I’m packed.”

Harlen took all of Morgan’s bags and left her with only a small purse. “Chanel, I won’t let anything happen to her.”

I studied my brother’s face. He was different. I could see there was determination, focus, and a hint of the responsibility he’s long avoided.

In minutes, we were standing at the elevator door. Morgan pulled Chanel into a warm hug. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other.

“Don’t you dare get yourself killed while I’m gone.” Morgan whispered as she pulled away. It was her attempt at humor in a terribly dangerous and uncomfortable situation.

“Same goes for you.” Chanel replied, holding back tears.

They broke apart reluctantly. Morgan glared at me. It was a silent command to keep Chanel safe. She turned to follow Harlen into the elevator.

As the doors closed on them, Chanel’s fingers found mine. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. I wanted to tell her we would all survive this. But I didn’t because I didn’t think she would believe me.

CHAPTER TWO

HARLEN

Iwent back to Zand’s old apartment and grabbed a few things for the road. I packed a few essentials and tossed them in the back of the Cherokee with Morgan’s things. We were on the highway a little after 6 PM. Zand texted the address to his condo in Cheboygan Michigan. I wanted to text him back and ask him how the hell did he hear about Cheboygan and why did he purchase a condo there. I chose not to. This Midwest version of Zand differed completely from the West Coast version of him. I was still trying to figure out where I fit into his new life.

The highway stretched out for miles before us. There seemed to be more semi-trailer trucks sharing the road with us than passenger cars. My hands gripped the steering wheel like never before. I was immortal, but Morgan was far from it. I’d never thought about dying in a car accident until today. I wouldn’t be the one to die. Knowing my driving and the driving of others could affect Morgan made her mortality ever-present in my mind.

I found myself scanning the road for debris and discarded tires. I was on guard for any deer and small animals trying tocross the lanes. I looked for anything that could be a hazard. Morgan was sad. She didn’t want to leave her friend. She sat next to me in silence.

Three hours into our journey north, and we’ve barely spoken. The radio played music neither of us was listening to. I could hear Morgan’s stomach growling, though she hadn’t mentioned it. After stopping for gas in southern Michigan, I was relieved when she finally started talking to me.

“I need to eat something.” She finally announced when there was a lull in our conversation.

I glanced at her, then back at the empty road. “We should keep driving. Zand said?—”

“I don’t care what Zand said.” Her tone wasn’t angry, just matter of fact. “I’m human, remember? I need food, bathroom breaks, all that inconvenient shit that you don’t need.”

She had a point, though I hated to admit it. I’d been so focused on getting her to safety that I forgot about her basic human needs. It had been a while since I had to think about such things.

I remembered a sign I saw a few miles back. “There’s a diner at the next exit.” I flicked on the turn signal, though there was no one behind us to signal to.

The 24-hour diner sign glowed in the darkness. I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. I parked the Jeep as close to the entrance as possible, positioning it for a quick exit. Not because we were in danger, but because I could see how exhausted Morgan was. Some humans got tired after eating and she was already exhausted.

Morgan raised her arms up in the air and stretched when she exited the Jeep. We walked inside the diner that smelled of burnt coffee and cooking oil.

This wasn’t the type of place with a hostess that greeted you at the door. I searched the place and led Morgan to the corner.Morgan slid into a vinyl booth that had seen better days. The red covering was cracked and patched with duct tape that was a few shades off. I sat across from Morgan, positioning myself to face the front door. No reason, just a habit.