Page 63 of Fangs for the Memories (Budapest Bites #1)

G race is one hundred percent right about Budapest. It has everything you could want in a city, and it’s even better at night.

Helpfully, her new werewolf husband has put us all up in his hotel, usefully located just across the river from the Pest side of the city. It’s an old hotel with many entrances and exits, plus nearly all of the rooms have access to a little balcony.

I swept the snow off mine earlier, attempting to look nonchalant as I did so, having checked the forecast to make sure no more would fall before dawn.

It’s still dark as I climb down three floors using the ornate stonework as my ladder. It’s easier to exit this way rather than potentially alert anyone hanging around the lobby at five in the morning. Especially when I’m dressed in a figure hugging catsuit covered by kevlar body armor.

Could make for some awkward questions.

I make my way swiftly on foot over the bright green, ornate bridge opposite the hotel, hopping onto a tram which I know will take me to my destination.

It’s fortunately empty, save for one old man, asleep at the back.

I tap my card, bought with cash, on the reader and tuck myself in a corner.

The white and yellow carriages rattle onwards, flicking across lines through the city while every now and then a female voice announces the next stop in Hungarian.

I’ve memorized them all, getting up swiftly to exit at the correct stop.

The air is even colder than by the river, if that’s even possible. But the sky is starting to brighten, and I quicken my pace.

I’ve got one chance at this, one only, and if I don’t execute my task to perfection…I don’t want to think what will happen.

The large white building isn’t hard to miss. I snort out a breath, which fogs in the freezing air. Of course it’s ostentatious. Why wouldn’t it be?

On the other side of the broad street, a small snow plough, mounted onto what looks like a quad, buzzes quietly past, the driver concentrating on his task and ignoring me.

I creep around the rear of the building, using spikes hidden in my boots to scale the rear wall and land as quietly as I can in the courtyard garden.

Why a garden? Why is it even cleared of snow? It’s not like the inhabitants of the building would even care.

I pick the lock on the double glass doors with practiced ease, opening them and entering as quickly as I can, pulling out a rag to wipe my shoes of any wet residue before I make my way across the honeyed wood parquet into the dark silence of the house.

It doesn’t have the smell I was expecting. If anything, there is a faint hint of roses. I creep through the heavy wooden door into the hallway where a wide staircase sweeps up to an ornate stained glass window before splitting and continuing up in two halves to the first floor.

I briefly close my eyes, remembering the schematics of the place I’ve stored there before I start my ascent as swiftly and as quietly as I can.

I’m heading for the first door when a sound down below means I duck into a side passage, hiding behind a heavy red velvet curtain and making a concerted effort to regulate my breathing.

I really don’t have much time. Dawn is breaking, and I have a window of around fifteen minutes to complete my mission then get back to the hotel before any of my friends miss me.

As I back up, a door handle pokes me in my rear. I don’t recall this particular door on the schematics but then I was made aware the internal construction wasn’t fully known.

This might be the door I need after all. I turn the handle and find the door opens noiselessly inwards. Inside the room is dark, but even so, given the time of day, it shouldn’t be an issue. I pull out a small flashlight and click it on.

The coffin sits on a velvet covered set of steps. It shines like patent leather in the light. My heart pounds, and I do my level best to calm my breathing. The lid is closed and this means I’m in with a chance.

I approach with all the stealth I can muster, feeling in the pocket on the front of my armor for the item I’m going to need.

The stake I’m going to drive through his heart.

The heart of Dominik Király, king of the Hungarian vampires and the sworn enemy of my family.