Page 57 of Bitten & Burned

Twenty-Nine

A GOOD HOUND

Caer Voss, Sol, Verdune

QUIL

My feet pounded the pavement as I tore through Caer Voss. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—my only thought was to find her.

So long as she wasn’t in my arms, I wasn’t okay.

Her scent lingered in the air, fainter than it had been in her apartment, but still hers. Distinct. Unmistakable.

I vaulted a stone wall, landing with a thump on the other side.

“Hey, watch it!” some guy yelled, but I was already gone.

Up this street, down the next, nose to the air, following the trail all the way to the Blackthorn—thick here, but trailing away too… She’d gone another way. Where?

I pivoted hard, caught her scent again, and chased it down a different street. This one was weaker, too, but still solidly her.

I splashed through a fountain, not even realizing it until cold water hit my feet.

Two women grabbed each other, leaping out of my path. Their eyes went wide.

As well they should. I was a hunter. In their city. Hunting.

“Sorry,” I muttered, already out of earshot.

Cobblestones gave way to stone slabs, then to a well-worn road. Her scent strengthened.

I knew it was her. I was close now.

I left the road and plunged into the woods. Branches scraped my face. Brambles clawed at my legs. I gritted my teeth and forced my way through a tangle of thorny vines.

And then, her scent hit me like a wall. Not faint. Present.

I must have crossed a threshold—the air was denser and colder, as if I’d stepped into another place entirely.

I slowed, creeping forward, each footfall deliberate. Listening for anything: a movement, her breath, or her heartbeat. Something that could lead me to her.

“Quil…”

My ears prickled. That wasn’t the bond. That was her. Her voice. It was thin and wispy, but it was her.

I crept closer, parting a tangle of bushes, and saw it.

A stone fortress. Old as the hills, but steady. Enormous—far larger than Halemont. Then again, Halemont was a home, not a fortress.

I drew in a deep breath, her scent curling in the air.

It didn’t matter how thick the walls were. I’d find her. Stone wouldn’t stop me.

I sank lower, every step placed with care so no twigs snapped and no leaves crunched. I slipped through unkempt gardens, past overgrown rosebushes and weeds that strangled the flowerbeds. Cracked cobblestone paths spread out before me.

A large estate, but not well-maintained. That either meant the occupant didn’t care or was rarely here.

I had a sneaking suspicion I’d stumbled on Dun Drummond. Where that bastard Silas lived. The land he’d promised my kin. They’d flourish here, no doubt.

I moved from the side to the front, spotting two guards posted by the door. From the way they scratched themselves and spat on the ground, I’d say they were Ashbornes—my cursed kin.

Well… not cursed. Just ignorant. And high on bloodroot. Braindead.

They’d be easy. True, they were great hunters, but I was better. Trained as an Ashborne, then again as a vampire. All those years feeding from animals, I’d even learned from watching the mountain lions and bears. I’d mastered their tactics before I killed them and fed.

So, as for these two bloodroot addicts in the dead of night? Easy.

I stilled, ducking into the shadows while the guards scratched and picked at themselves.

The one closest to me twitched, sensing something—but not quickly enough.

I swept his leg, dropping him fast, and twisted his head until I felt the bones give. He collapsed with a dull thud.

The second’s mouth opened, a scream ready. Too late.

I caught the back of his head and smashed it into the stone wall. He crumpled at my feet.

I stepped over him and moved for the front door.

I fully expected more guards inside—but there weren’t.

Silas probably didn’t want them dirtying the place while he still lived here. I doubted he’d planned on staying once my kin had delivered.

If I had my way, no one would reside here once I’d finished.

I moved with care, keeping to carpeted stretches where my steps were silent. Then I stopped and closed my eyes to try and really sense where I was. The smells, the sounds, so I could move deliberately. Time wasn’t on my side.

A fire crackled somewhere, maybe the kitchens? The air held the scent of beef, rich and slow-cooked. Stew.

Other scents layered over it. Rowena’s scent, strong and certain. Several more—servants, maybe. Or Silas himself. I needed to know which one was his.

I slipped around the foyer until I found a cloak hanging in an armoire. Pressed my nose into the fabric and breathed in deep.

Ah. Silas Drummond. Oversteeped tea and aftershave, the scent left my nose burning from the bitter and acidic notes. Ugh. At least now I knew.

I followed that scent up several flights of stairs, closer to the fire’s crackle. I could have just followed the sound, I supposed, but scent was better. More precise.

The door stood open, firelight spilling into the hall, shadows leapt across the floor, dancing on the walls and rugs.

I crept to the threshold and peered inside.

He was there. Alone. Seated in a chair, sipping something dark from a glass: whiskey—it smelled like it was, at least.

The room was sparsely furnished. No cover. If I went in, it would be fangs out, ready to kill.

I’d done worse. I could do this.

“Before you do that,” he said without looking up, “remember, I can help her.”

I blinked, straightening. He’d heard me.

“If you’re wondering how I knew you were there,” he continued, “I heard you kill my guards. I knew it was only a matter of time before you came for me. And I feel the need to remind you…” He stood, setting his glass on the mantle before turning to face me. “I am the only one who can help her.”

“You’re the one who did this,” I seethed.

“All the more reason to keep me alive. I did this. I know how to undo it.”

“So undo it.”

He smiled—cold, unfeeling.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? An Ashborne?”

I stepped out of the shadows. Might as well face him. He was spindly and soft. No way he was getting the jump on me. And there was no one else here to try. He was attempting a negotiation.

I didn’t answer.

“I thought so. You carry yourself much the same way as the others. But a touch more refined. You’re the one they lost, aren’t you? They’ve spoken about you. They think you’re a traitor and a coward for not ending yourself when you were turned, you know.”

“I don’t care what those ingrates think of me.”

“What do you care about, Ashborne? You’re here for her, aren’t you? Your kind don’t love like those of us with humanity, so what use do you have for her that you can’t find elsewhere?”

My temper flared, but I kept it in check. He was goading me—trying to get me to snap so he could work whatever part of his plan relied on it.

“I could make it worth your while. If you left now. Went back to your coven and told them she was gone.”

Now I was angry.

“I would never do that to her. I’m taking her with me.”

Silas sighed. “If you do that, another one of your kin will bring her to me. Not entirely unscathed. You’re setting her up for pain.”

“You’re setting her up for pain. Creating it, even. You’re orchestrating all of this. All because you had feelings for a student…” I sneered. “What, were you too incompetent to find someone your own age? Someone who didn’t rely on you for guidance? You’re disgusting.”

He snapped. “She’s beautiful. Intelligent. I’ve never met anyone like her. If you could have feelings, you wouldn’t blame me.”

“I have plenty of feelings, and not one has ever pushed me to forcibly take a woman who didn’t want me.”

“I won’t have to force her. She’ll come to me willingly.”

“You forced her here. You took her from Blackthorn. Seems like it was probably against her will.”

I was closing in, a little proud of myself for holding my own against him verbally. But I was no Vael, for once, I wished he’d been here instead of me. He’d have been better for this.

And then I heard it. Again.

”Quil…”

Silas smiled. “There it is. The tether she holds you on. She’s tugging it, Ashborne. Better go running.”

It’d be so quick to kill him.

But he’d gotten inside my head. He could be the only one who could cure her. How could I kill the only thing that might bring her relief? I couldn’t live with myself if I did that. It was already hard enough.

I sneered at him and turned, running towards her scent. Her voice. Her.

I stopped outside a heavy wooden door and heard her again on the other side.

“Quil… please…” Weak, but steady.

“Back away from the door, sweetheart.”

I didn’t hear her move, but gods, the bond calmed immediately upon hearing my voice. I tried to figure out a way to open the door.

Fuck it.

I rammed my shoulder into it. It hurt, but there was some give. I did it again. And again. Finally, it splintered, and I shoved it down to the floor with my hands—

—and that’s when I saw her.