Page 82 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

Bran twists his body, then tries to lift his arms.

“It must be magic,” he says. “I can’t get them to budge.”

“What do we do?”

“If this is summer magic, you can counteract it.”

“In theory,” I answer. But I have to try.

I reach for the Winter magic that Baspin helped me tap into, but find too much resistance, like I’m swimming against a strong current.

“I think whatever magic the Summer Queen is using is blocking me,” I tell Bran. “It feels like I have the flu.”

“Keep trying.” His hand is at the small of my back and he presses against me, encouraging me.

I close my eyes and dig deep.

The buzzing intensifies. My stomach rolls, like I’m going to throw up.

That would be the worst possible scenario, being tied up like this and covered in puke.

“I can’t,” I tell Bran and then clamp my mouth shut as the urge to vomit races up my throat.

“It’s okay, Mouse.” His voice is a whisper at my ear. “We’ll get out one way or?—”

The leaves overhead shrivel up and turn brown.

“What the—” Bran says as more leaves shrink, turn brittle, then flake off. “Is that you?”

“I don’t think so?” I mutter against him.

The ivy loses its purchase on us and Bran is able to lift his elbows finally breaking through.

As daylight spills in, a dark figure appears overhead, the face shrouded in the shadows of a drawn hood.

“We don’t have much time,” the figure says.

It’s a woman, voice a little hoarse. It sounds vaguely familiar.

“Come on,” she coaxes, waggling her fingers at us.

Bran sits up, bringing me with him, and then we’re on our feet.

“Who are you?” I ask the figure.

She gives me a shove toward the woods. “Questions later. Running, now.”

We take off.

There are more figures in hooded jackets helping the rest of our group, but we’ve clearly lost far too many numbers of an already too small army.

Bran and I, trailing behind the hooded figure, make our way through the sun dappled woods, then burst out the other side where the river splits the forest in two. I slide down the bank and hit the water with a loud, clumsy splash.

Bran is beside me in an instant, barely splashing at all.

“Okay,” I say, sucking in a deep breath. “Now, who are you?”

The girl pulls her hood back and a long, red braid spills out.