Page 64 of Bitten Vampire

Something is bound to go wrong. Still, what choice do I have? I must trust it will work out.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Valdarr signals the driver, and we leave the car park.

“About Clan Nocturna?—”

“I saved that girl. I didn’t attack her.”

“I know. The area’s CCTV showed everything. We apprehended the vampire and he confessed.”

His violet-grey eyes narrow. “What I can’t fathom is how you knew she was in danger. You arrived, waited for the exact moment she needed help, as if you knew what would happen. Why, Fred?”

I shift, worrying one fang with my tongue. “Well… besides the daytime-human issue, I, um—think I might be psychic?” It comes out like a question.

It sounds absurd even to me.

“I’ve always had strong intuition,” I begin. “More than a gut feeling. Years ago, my friend Sara was fretting over her boyfriend. I advised her to leave him and concentrate on herself, certain she would soon meet the love of her life, someone she had always overlooked. Eighteen months later she met her childhood friend again, fell in love, married, two children.”

I rub my eyes. “Life got messy. Jay disliked her, so we drifted.” She wasn’t the only friend he disliked, and I stopped listening to my intuition after Mum died. Had I paid attention to that inner voice, I’d never have wasted ten years with him.

“But you see the pattern: I’ve always had a weird little gift—it’s hard to explain; I don’t understand it myself.” I wave my phone. “A few weeks after I was turned, I suffered vivid daydreams of your father finding and hurting me. When I forced them away, the magic changed: while scrolling, I drifted into a vision of a boy about to be hit by a car, so I went and saved him. Later, I tested the gift again and had the vision of Crystal being bitten, killed?—”

He cuts in, “So you decided that going to the Vampire Sector to rescue her was a good idea?”

“House knew what I was planning, and I had that knockout potion. B—” I stop myself just in time from mentioning Beryl’s help. I’m hopeless at lying. I recount the whole story—the Clan Nocturna fiasco, meeting Lark, everything—and it sounds even more absurd aloud.

“You have had an eventful few days,” he saysfinally.

“Mm.”

“Shall I ask my contacts about your house? Make sure she’s safe?”

My head snaps up. “Would you… would you do that? I’d be so grateful.” Tears sting.

“Of course.”

We cross the border into the Vampire Sector and drive for another forty-five minutes. Beyond a pair of massive gates and a power-heavy ward, the stone drive crunches beneath the tyres as the car slows. The driver deposits us at the foot of a broad flight of stone steps leading to an oak front door, then pulls away without a word.

I tighten my grip on Baylor’s lead, staring up at the imposing façade. What if Baylor chews through this beautiful place? Without House, an unfamiliar weight settles in my stomach. I hope Valdarr can discover something about her. I pray she is safe. Staying away is probably the best protection I can give her for now.

What if I don’t belong here at all? Half the time, I’m a tasty human snack.

“Is being awake during the day common among vampires?” I ask.

“No, only the very old—my father, me, and a few members of our clan. I wake around midday, and with each passing century the time I remain immobilised grows shorter. You saw the ring?” I nod. “That artefact is exceedingly rare, not many can walk in the sun.”

Carrying my bag, he offers a reassuring smile.

If my heart still beat, it might skip—when he smiles, he is almost painfully handsome.

We climb the steps. The door swings open before we reach it, and a vampire steps out into the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Five

He’sa slim vampire with dark hair styled in a perfect ’90s boy-band curtain cut. A single hoop earring gleams in his left ear, and a medallion bearing the Clan Blóðvakt crest rests against a sharply pressed shirt. He blocks the threshold like an overworked PA guarding a CEO.

“My liege, there’s a lot to get through,” he says, eyes fixed on a tablet. The stylus hovers, ready. “Meeting with the shifters at?—”