Page 16

A fter Isabel left, I sank into the old chair by the window and settled in for my vigil, watching the street outside. The sun crept across the sky beneath a veil of clouds, and occasional snow flurries danced past the glass. Tom barely stirred when I checked on him. The rich brown of his complexion had faded to a grey undertone that scared me more than the wounds themselves, his face slack in a drugged sleep. But he was getting some rest, which had to be helping.

Around noon, a flicker of movement caught my eye – across the road, a shadow seemed to shift behind a parked car. I blinked, focusing on the spot, but there was nothing that might have drawn my attention. That’s just what you need, paranoia in the mix with everything else . I rubbed my tired eyes, chalking it up to exhaustion, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling.

In the few moments Tom was semi-awake, I tried to make him sip some water and nibble something. He seemed to be hallucinating. He kept mumbling about Nicholas and Isabel, and it was all I could do to reassure him he was safe.

The hours stretched, each tick of the clock taking me back to that moment on the hilltop with Nicholas, when he’d all but admitted to the murders of countless red-headed women. Yet here I was, alive and unharmed. So, what made me different? Was it the same thing that made me feel the way I did toward him? More importantly – was it connected to why my friends were dying? Because the key link between Jon, Maggie, and now Tom seemed all the more obvious: me.

Isabel and Adam were a whole different puzzle. Isabel seemed more concerned with keeping secrets than killing me, which sort of made sense. Adam’s motives were a little clearer – I trusted him, even after seeing him with Nicholas at the jazz club. That had been the first time I’d sensed Nicholas with my hunter abilities, my first glimpse of his more… animalistic side. I could only figure he and Isabel usually kept that part of themselves well hidden.

And there it was. The only answer that made sense. There must be a third player.

By the time the sun went down around four, Tom’s sleep had become less fitful, and I was sure of two things. First, Tom would live – Isabel had saved him, and for that alone, I owed her the benefit of the doubt. And second, more importantly… Nicholas and Isabel were being set up.

???

W hen I’d agreed to meet Isabel at the manor, I hadn’t quite thought my plans through. Tom was unconscious, and wouldn’t be handing out lifts any time soon, and my car was still at Jolt.

Locke Manor was miles away. If the weather had been warmer, I might have considered the walk – but in freezing temperatures, it seemed better to get the tram into town and just pick up my car. No way could I afford another taxi fare.

I’d left my favourite yellow hat and scarf in my car – of course – so I wrapped up in an old, long wool coat that I rarely wore. Though admittedly there was something to be said for how satisfyingly swishy it was. I tugged on my boots, strapped my dagger onto my belt and headed out to take a shortcut through the park to the tram stop. It didn’t take long to get my blood pumping after a day of sitting on my arse, and with my headphones over my ears and my hands deep in my pockets, I soon warmed up.

Cranking up the volume, it struck me that I hadn’t listened to any of Jon’s favourite bands since he’d died. Actually, I’d barely listened to any music at all. But now, pacing it up the icy paths, it didn’t make me as sad as I’d expected. I lost myself in the melody for a few minutes as Freddie Mercury’s soprano transformed effortlessly into a high tenor and smiled, remembering the countless occasions when Jon had tried and failed to imitate such a feat.

As I walked, I kept an eye on the darkness beneath the trees out of habit – thieves and muggers didn’t concern me, but early rising vamps did. Sure enough, I was halfway around the path by the duck pond when the familiar creeping sensation came over me. I shuddered, the last of the cold in my fingertips receding as a fire began to build within me.

Frost glittered on the bare branches overhead, catching what little moonlight filtered through the clouds. I slowed down, my hand finding my dagger as my breath clouded in the bitter air. A dark figure stood motionless under an ancient oak, its limbs throwing striped shadows across the path. Something felt wrong about the presence – like I was being stalked rather than doing the stalking. It was the same feeling I’d had after Seven.

You should have stayed in the shadows.

Like a deer in headlights, they remained utterly still. I inched forward, boots silent on the frozen ground, but the moment I moved, the figure emerged from the darkness. Slim, dressed in black from head to toe, she seemed immune to the cold, her bare arms luminescent in the moonlight. She moved away with deliberate slowness, and I followed, matching her pace. It was already becoming clear that this was no normal hunt – though she never ran, the distance between us remained constant, forging a connection between us like an invisible thread.

I slackened my pace, testing her reaction, and she slowed, too. Something nagged at me, a familiarity that seemed wrong given the predatory energy radiating from her. If it weren’t for the goosebumps all over my body, I could have sworn it was Isabel up ahead. The same form-fitting clothes, the same long hair whipping in the brittle wind. She glanced back over one shoulder, and my breath caught at the familiar profile.

What the hell?

I shook myself and sped up, attempting to close the gap between us. She sped up along with me, but her more hurried movements revealed a few subtle – but noticeable – differences between her and Isabel. Where Wyatt stood with perfect posture and grace, this woman was more rounded in the shoulders, and swung her hips a little as she walked. Yes, she looked like Isabel – and I had to reason that was intentional – but something wasn’t right, here. I stopped walking, so she stopped too. Deliberately, she faced me, only a few metres separating us.

My hand on my dagger, I gave her the once-over. She was the same height and build as Isabel. Her hair was almost the same shade, and her eyes were hidden from view in the dim light. But this woman set my teeth on edge in a way Isabel never had. She didn’t even attempt to conceal herself, and as if I needed confirmation, she put her hand to her mouth and giggled. The sound was harsh and girlish, and nothing close to anything I’d expect from the real Izzie Misery.

I edged closer, unsheathing my dagger. She shot one look at it, blew a quick kiss in my direction, and ran.

“Fuck.” My boots crunched on the gravel as I launched after her, a stark contrast to the silent vamp ahead of me. She glided ahead, slower than Isabel but still too fast – my lungs were burning within minutes. When she vanished into a thick stand of trees, I doubled over, gasping for air. No human could match a vampire’s speed, and this one was clearly powerful enough to toy with me.

I braced my hands on my knees, my mind racing faster than my pulse. This copycat act couldn’t be a coincidence. Was she part of the third party I’d been theorising about? What would anyone have to gain from impersonating Isabel Wyatt?

When my heartrate steadied, I forced myself into a steady jog. The vampire had long since disappeared, but I had new information to share. I needed to get to the manor, and fast.

The tram ride passed in a blur of streetlights and anxious thoughts. My car sat exactly where I’d left it, though my hat had vanished completely – probably in a lost and found somewhere. The drive to Locke Manor stretched before me, but I barely saw the dark roads as they fell away. By the time I pulled onto Adam’s long driveway – the gates stood open this time – I’d cycled through a dozen theories. The fake Isabel, Tom’s attack, the suicides… maybe we were all being manipulated. Or maybe that was paranoid thinking. Either way, there was more going on here than any of us had realised.

Ringing the ornate doorbell, one of the huge wooden doors opened almost immediately. I was still jittery, but seeing Adam looking so normal relaxed me instantly – he wore dark jeans and a black t-shirt that contrasted shockingly with his white blonde hair. He waited without a word as I tugged off my boots and followed him along the hallway, noticing the tense set of his shoulders. Something was bugging him.

He led me through the first door on the left into an immense drawing room. Heavy velvet curtains in deep crimson pooled on the floor beneath towering windows, and hundreds of pillar candles flickered in ornate holders, their golden light bringing warmth to the otherwise chilly air. I was so busy taking in the beautiful space that it took me a second to see why Adam was so on edge.

Nicholas and Isabel flanked the elaborate fireplace like opposing chess pieces. Both were glaring at each other without attempting to veil the hostility between them, their supernatural stillness only emphasising the barely contained energy in the room.

Nicholas stood in stark contrast to Isabel’s darkness, his white linen shirt hanging loose and open, the fine fabric drawing attention to the lean muscle beneath. The candlelight played across his defined muscles, highlighting the light trail of hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans, ancient and faded to palest blue. I took a ragged breath to steady myself, suddenly flushed, and he broke Isabel’s gaze to look at me. I forced my eyes away, but not before his quick, knowing smile told me he’d caught me looking.

Those gold-flecked emerald eyes continued to burn into me from across the room. Only our fifth encounter, and my skin already felt as if it were on fire, even at this distance.

“What’s going on?” My voice came out steadier than I felt.

Adam came to stand beside me in the doorway and folded his arms. “They’ve been like this for the best part of an hour; since Izzie arrived.” His voice was low, though I was sure it carried. “I think it’s a predator thing.”

Nicholas was still looking at me. “I’m having some trouble with my temper at the moment. Perhaps this isnae the best time for you to come a-visiting.” His voice was rough as he gripped the mantelpiece, his knuckles white.

“Nick—” Isabel said.

“Dinnae speak to me, Isabel.” Slowly and deliberately, he relaxed each of his muscles and stepped away from the fireplace. “Centuries, and ye still havnae learned when to hold your tongue.” His voice carried a dangerous edge, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “A sure sign immortality doesnae guarantee wisdom.”

At my side, Adam relaxed too, and crossed the room to sink into a huge, winged armchair.

“Are you… living here?” I asked Nicholas, glancing at Isabel as I did so.

“Apparently,” Isabel cut in, throwing Adam a filthy look as she removed her dark blazer and sat, “our host has been less than forthcoming.”

“I’ve been here a few days,” Nicholas snapped, running a hand through his damp hair. The waves were wet and darker than usual, curling against the nape of his neck and falling just a bit too long in a way that made him look… untamed. He must have recently showered. “Adam didnae have a deal of choice in the matter.”

He gazed into the fire as he spoke, and I was grateful. I was already struggling to hide my churning feelings. Instead, I steeled myself and directed my attention toward Isabel.

“Something’s happened,” I said flatly.

She quirked an eyebrow at me as Nicholas glanced up, and I took that as an invitation to continue – she seemed entirely unconcerned that the man she wanted me to kill was standing less than six feet away.

I quickly explained about the vamp in the park, trying to hammer home just how much the woman had tried to look like Isabel. I was reluctant to explain my theory about Nicholas being set up yet, but as it turned out, I didn’t have to.

He was at my side before I’d finished speaking. Reaching out a hand, he hesitated, his fingertips inches from mine, and even without touching him I could feel the cool energy radiating from his skin. The urge to close that small distance made my pulse quicken. From the corner of my eye, Isabel observed this reaction with curiosity written across her delicate features.

“You’re alright? She didnae hurt ye?” The distress in his voice was unmistakable, making his accent more pronounced. I tried to hold it together long enough to meet his eye.

“I didn’t get close, to be honest. It was more like she was trying to taunt me,” I thought about it. “I’d have preferred a fight.”

I took a steadying breath, moving away from Nicholas and slumping onto one of the leather sofas by Adam instead. Being near to him made it harder to think straight – every nerve in my body reacted to his presence. I could feel my face flushing, but putting some space between us helped.

He’s a vampire , Erin, for crying out loud. Forget it.

Isabel glanced between Nicholas and me, uncomprehending. “What do you know about this, Nick?” Her voice was hard. Accusing.

“Nothing!” Nicholas seemed surprised by the question. “Mayhap I should ask you the same thing.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. It is clearly a set up,” Adam said, emphasising each word like he was explaining it to a child. “Perhaps the target is only Nick, or it might be both of you. There’s no way to say for sure.”

“What reason would anyone have to go to such ridiculous lengths?” Isabel asked, acid lacing her voice.

“Revenge. Fear. Power.” Adam counted them off on his fingers. “The usual melodrama. Anyone who doesn’t believe they can take you on themselves and would prefer Erin do the dirty work.”

“Exactly.” I was happy Adam had been the one to bring it up, but I still wanted to have my say. “I mean, dressing up like you guys – I’m not sure how that works, to be honest – but whether it’s a plan or just reacting to our reactions, she’s got our attention now. She’s managed to get everyone in one place by…” I trailed off.

Nicholas nodded, buttoning his shirt. “Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?” Isabel repeated, all hostility forgotten.

“My friend in Edinburgh,” I added.

Her eyes widened as she gawked at Nicholas. “Wait. Jonathan… Weston?”

Obviously, Adam had failed to mention who Jon was to Isabel. She must have been aware of Nicholas’s descendants, though. And it seemed her doubts about Nicholas and this additional information were warring inside her for dominance.

“You know he wouldn’t end his own bloodline, Izzie.” Adam’s voice was gentler than before.

“But…” She didn’t seem to be able to find the words. We all fixed our sights on Isabel in anticipation, united in our belief that we were right. She needed to accept this conclusion on her own. If we were being manipulated like I thought, I needed their help more than ever, loath as I was to admit it.

Isabel stared at her clasped hands in her lap, perfectly still. With a sigh, Adam got up from his seat.

“Would you like a drink, Erin?” he asked politely. I suspected he was looking for an excuse to leave the room.

I wrenched my eyes away from the two vampires. “Please.”

“Coffee?” he paused in the doorway, one hand on the frame.

“Always,” I smiled, turning back to watch Nicholas. He was observing Isabel intently, though he threw a glance at me, his mouth twitching up into a reassuring half-smile.

“I’m sorry about the Forties,” Isabel spoke suddenly. I assumed she was talking to Nicholas, whose face went instantly blank.

“I’m sorry too,” he replied. “You could’ve prevented many losses.” His voice was barely controlled, and I wished I could ease the pain there.

“I’m sorry ,” she repeated. “I know. And… I believe you.” She shifted her attention to me, and I realised I’d been waiting for her approval to fully accept the truth myself.

It was as if some silent signal had been given, and we’d all been holding our breath. Isabel regarded Nicholas as he sat casually by me on the arm of the sofa, his earlier dangerous edge melting into something warmer as he shifted closer. So close that I found myself resisting the urge to rest against him, drawn in despite knowing better. Though I knew his skin would be cool to the touch, my face felt warm just being near him, every almost-point of contact sending sparks of awareness through my body.

“We must try to—” Isabel began, but my phone cut through the moment. I dug it out of my coat pocket. Tom’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello? ”

“Erin? Where are you?” His voice was still painfully hoarse.

“Sorry, Tom. I’m just… running some errands.” There was no way I could explain where I was over the phone. He’d blow a gasket.

“Oh. Right. Well, your dad called the landline.”

Bloody brilliant.

My parents and I didn’t get on these days, and I rarely spoke to them unless it was a special occasion. Or a funeral.

“What did he want?” I frowned, leaning further into Nicholas’s presence.

“He…” Tom’s voice rasped. “Someone’s been threatening them.”

I froze, aware of Nicholas and Isabel watching me. I hit speakerphone. “What do you mean, threatening them?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Your dad wanted to speak to you – but he mentioned letters signed with an ‘ N ’. Creepy calls from some guy with an accent. Your dad tried to brush it off, said it’s been happening for weeks, but…” Tom’s voice trailed off.

“What sort of letters?” I asked.

“They were graphic, from the sound of it,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Your dad wouldn’t repeat them back to me.”

Adam came back into the room with a wooden tray. The candlelight flickered as he passed, shadows dancing across the walls.

I sighed. I might not like my parents very much, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t protect them if I could. The thing was, there wasn’t anything I could do about weird letters and phone calls while I still had no idea who was behind it. I could only hope that, for now, whoever it was wouldn’t take it any further. My only other option was to go over to theirs myself and stand guard, and I just… couldn’t.

“Right,” I sighed. “Thanks for letting me know, Tom. I don’t know what else we can do about it, but I’ll call him back and catch you up on everything later.” I knew I was being dismissive.

“Wait, Erin – aren’t you going to—” he protested, but I cut him off.

“I’ll call them.” I hung up before Tom could say anything more, my hand shaking as I lowered the phone.

“If I needed proof we’re being played…” My laugh came out hollow.

“We would never let anyone hurt your parents,” Adam said firmly. “It won’t come to that.”

“My best friend is already dead,” I retorted. “Maggie too. I couldn’t protect either of them.”

“There wasnae anything you could do.”Almost absently, Nicholas stroked a soft circle on the back of my hand with his fingertip. I calmed instantly at the tiniest contact, but pulled my hand away. You can’t.

“At least we can learn something from this.” I kept my voice carefully level, avoiding Nicholas's questioning look. “If whoever’s behind it is still making prank phone calls, they don’t know how much we know. Yet.”

I watched Nicholas, his brow furrowed. This close, I could see he had the lightest dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. It seemed at odds with his nature, since he could never see the sunlight.

“Aye, but how long will we be ahead o’ them?” he muttered. I didn’t have an answer.

“We need to think carefully.” Adam handed me a chunky earthenware mug. “This woman must be someone we know – she had too many details to be a mere stranger.”

He was right. There was no way a stranger would target two old, powerful vampires without doing their research – and as Tom had proven, it was pretty hard to dig stuff up on people like Isabel and Nicholas. Which meant she’d gotten her information from somewhere closer to home.

“Tom and I can keep looking, now we’ve got a bit more to go on,” I offered, pleased I could do something proactive for a change. I took a sip of my coffee. It was delicious. Adam had been holding out on me.

“Tom has quite enough to contend with,” Isabel interjected. “His recovery must take precedence. I shall return with you to check on him.”

“What happened to Tom?” Adam asked.

Isabel explained briefly, but my mind was on Nicholas, who seemed distant and subdued. I was sure there was something he wasn’t saying, though I shouldn’t be able to read his face so easily – I barely knew him.

“Shall we go, Erin?” Isabel asked, breaking into my musings from the doorway.

I didn’t want to. This was the first time I’d had them all in a room together, and some honest discussion had actually happened. There had to be more to talk about, surely? But I’d promised Tom I’d update him, and Isabel was right about leaving him alone. I needed to be more honest.

Grudgingly, I said goodbye to Adam – who assured me he’d do what he could – and followed Isabel outside. After a minute, Nicholas came after us, and the three of us stood awkwardly together in the doorway.

“Izzie, could you—?” he asked, his face uncertain.

Isabel took in the two of us, shrugged, and went back in, closing the door behind her.

I crossed my arms against the chilly night air, staring at my boots. The stars were hidden behind thick clouds, leaving us in the deep shadow of the manor.

Now we were alone, I wasn’t sure what to say. Before I knew it, he was inches away, the fine white linen of his shirt rippling as he stepped closer, rubbing my arms through my coat to get some warmth into them. The cold didn’t seem to affect him at all, but I was instantly on fire at the proximity.

“I’m sorry ye have to deal wi’ all this,” he murmured, his hands stilling on my arms. A ghost of his usual playful smile crossed his face. “It’s no the way I wanted us to meet.”

I pursed my lips, not quite understanding, but he continued, his voice low and intimate.

“Tis hard for me to imagine what must be going through your mind.” His fingers traced down my sleeves. “It’s been a long time since anyone dared threaten the people I care about. The feelin’ is… unpleasant.”

“It’s not often I’m this far out of my depth, either. We have that much in common,” I smiled. “But I still have hope— ”

“Aye, I dinnae doubt it. I can see a fierce determination in ye, on that count.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin as he looked down at me.

“What I’m trying to say is…” He tilted his head, his golden-flecked emerald eyes dancing as they held mine. “You’re drivin’ me mad, love. Each time you’re near, my control slips a wee bit more,” he whispered. “I find myself carin’ less and less about holdin’ back, and I—

“I cannae lose you.” The playful expression faded into something darker, untamed, as he towered over me, the broad span of his shoulders blocking out the night behind him. His voice dropped to a rough growl that sent heat coursing through me. “Almost four hundred years I’ve dreamed o’ you, and now…” He paused, gripping my arms so tightly I couldn’t help but look at him, my pulse racing beneath his fingers. “I winnae let you come to harm.”

The force behind his words sent electricity down my spine, his conviction awakening something unknown. I wanted to protest that I could protect myself, but it wasn’t about protection anymore – or at least, not entirely. His honesty stirred at the darkness inside of me I tried so hard to push down, and I knew, then, that it was powerful enough to match his own… But I couldn’t voice it. I knew I shouldn’t, that whatever this was between us… wasn’t allowed. No matter how it might feel.

“I know,” I said finally. My breath made soft clouds in the air between us, though his made none, reminding me once again that he wasn’t human. “I just don’t understand why.”

He didn’t take his eyes from me, and I waited for an answer .

“I’m no so sure myself. All I know is… you’re it , for me.” He traced the curve of my cheek with his thumb, cupping my face in his palm, and my breath caught in my throat.“My soul’s been a-waitin’ for you since before I kent what immortality even meant.” His voice grew tight. “And now you’re here, testing every ounce o’ control I’ve managed to scrape back o’er the years.”

“What do you mean, waiting?”

For a second I thought he smiled again, but it was gone before I could be sure.

“When I was young – human still – my grandmother told me to seek the flame-haired lassie, and she would be my world,” he breathed, his voice carrying the weight of the years that his face didn’t show. “She would tell stories o’ the fey born in the gloaming – as I’d been, and when she spoke o’ such things, even my pa would listen…” He paused. “I heard those same words again, later. Then once more, before the war, from another I would’ve trusted with my life.” Cool fingers laced through my hair, tilting my head back to meet his gaze, and this time I didn’t pull away from his touch. “Three times I was promised ye. Three times I feared I’d lost my chance.”

His eyes darkened. “Now that I’ve found you, nothing in heaven or hell will take ye from me.”

The words sent a thrill through me. There were questions I should ask, things I knew I needed to understand, but they dissolved beneath the intensity of his gaze.

He stepped closer, backing me gently against the doorframe. His lean body didn’t touch mine, but I could feel the coolness radiating from him in the narrow space between us.

“I know you’re uncertain, love. That you hardly know me. That you’re grievin’ still… but I can feel the heat beneath your skin when I’m near. Hear how your heart beats faster for me,” he leaned in until his lips almost brushed my ear.

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, challenge and desire mingling in his expression. For a moment, I thought he would close the distance between us. Instead, he pulled back, leaving me breathless, heat curling deep in my belly.

“I’ll see you verra soon,” he promised, his hand ghosting along my jaw to brush his thumb across my bottom lip. I closed my eyes momentarily against the feeling, nerve endings alive beneath his touch. The air between us seemed to thicken, the distance narrowing until I could feel the cool energy radiating from him. My lips parted slightly of their own accord, and his gaze dropped to them—

“Shall we get going?” Isabel’s voice shattered the moment, her silhouette appearing in the doorway. I stepped back quickly, reality crashing over me like a wave of cold water.

I nodded, shakily, and crossed to the car without a word.