Page 94 of Bitten Vampire

Eventually I rest my head on his shoulder. We need this, laughter and tenderness, if only for a moment, to feel alive.

“Lander is coming tonight,” he murmurs.

I groan.

“The Vampirical Council appointed him and his team to handle your tests. We need someone we trust; a stranger might be working for my father.”

Ministry of Magic tests. A blood test must be simple, but I have no idea what the memory one involves. Everything is cloaked in secrecy. House’s magic is bound to interfere with everything. Lander will be overjoyed about getting evidence of that.

I don’t even know how she managed to turn me into a vampire, and she isn’t here for me to ask. I’ve gambled with a losing hand to buy us time we never had, and I’ve no idea how it will play out.

Perhaps the Grand Master will get his wish, and I will lose my head.

“He’s doing multiple samples, yes? Back-ups, in case something vanishes?”

He nods. “Exactly.”

“And we are meeting the shifters?”

“Yes. They will help track my father.”

“Perhaps, once it’s dark, I could try to find him,” I suggest, tapping my temple. “It would be easier.”

“No,” he says, hugging me. “You said yourself you don’t know what those visions do to you. We will hunt him the old-fashioned way. The shifters owe me a favour; they’ll come through.”

I lean into him and nod. “All right.”

Baylor nudges me and grumbles. He does his I-need-a-wee shuffle; he wants to go for a walk. We are in a apartment, so I can’t simply let him out into a garden.

Down below, there’s a small park.

“I haven’t got my ring,” Valdarr says, glancing from me to the grumbling dog. “It can’t be worn constantly—it needs to recharge.”

“Oh, I wonder if that’s the same as Beryl?”

“Perhaps. I have books on the subject, but you could ask Lander tonight. He’s very knowledgeable.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Our security will take you across the road. Please don’t be long, straight there and back.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I worry.”

“Okay.”

I grin, clip on Baylor’s lead and head out.

The guards nod in silent acknowledgement: one walks beside us while the others fan out in plain clothes that draw no attention. We are, after all, in the Human Sector. An odd place for a vampire safe-house.

The park is quiet. A winding path curves through clusters of trees and neatly kept grass, flanked by evenly spaced wooden benches. At the far end, a children’s play area—with a bright red slide—adds a splash of colour against the surrounding greenery.

I stand awkwardly, pockets full of ‘poo bags,’ while Baylor does his business. He sniffs everything.

A Jack Russell spots him and erupts, barking and snarling as if defending sacred ground. “Pickle, stop it,” the embarrassed owner pleads, tugging the lead while the dog shakes it like prey.

Once Baylor has finished, we cross back towards the apartment building’s glass doors.

“Oh, look who it is.” Theresa—hands full of bright-red sale bags—marches towards us.

When did Theresa ever shop at a discount, and what are the odds of running into her here? Fate really does enjoy playing games with me.