Page 17

W e were silent on the drive home. Isabel stared out of the window from the passenger seat, her scarce breath making a slight fog on the glass. Streetlights swept across her pale features in rhythmic patterns, making her seem more statue than person. Pulling up outside the house, I switched off the engine and was about to get out when Isabel caught my arm.

“I wanted to speak with you,” she murmured, her eyes guarded. I swallowed. This must be as awkward for her as it was for me.

I pursed my lips, reluctant. “Can it wait until we’ve seen Tom?” I asked. It wasn’t the real reason I was stalling, but I had an inkling about what she might have to say that couldn’t have been said at the manor, and I wasn’t particularly looking forward to explaining myself.

Isabel nodded curtly, and we went inside.

Tom was curled up on the sagging velvet sofa, asleep. The living room was dark except for his laptop’s ghostly glow, the screen’s white light throwing the lines of his face into sharp relief, making the bruising look even worse. Even from across the room, I caught his faint scent of soap and pencil shavings – clean and woody, like cedar – clinging to the blanket and cushions around him.

I switched on the brass lamp by the window, and its shade cast a warm circle on the bare floorboards as I drew the heavy curtains and Isabel knelt before him.

“He seems to be showing signs of improvement. His pulse is stronger, more regular than last night,” she murmured, her fingers pressed against his wrist. “And there’s no sign of a temperature, so likely no infection.”

Tom stirred as she gently pulled at the collar of his dressing gown to see his throat better.

“It is healing well already – a side effect of the bite presumably, but in this case that may be a good thing.” She seemed satisfied with his state, which was more than I’d hoped for.

“What do you mean, a side effect?” I asked, crossing the room to her side. She was right – Tom’s wound looked days old, though it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.

Isabel considered me for a long moment, and I got the impression she was deciding whether she could trust me.

“Some vampires carry a substance in their saliva that can seal a wound, allowing for quicker healing by encouraging clotting,” she explained, finally. “Unfortunately, it is often abused by the more sadistic of my kind to keep a victim alive over an extended period.” Her tone was disapproving, I was glad to hear.

I thought back to April and the girl in the warehouse near Solace’s. It seemed like months ago, but it had never occurred to me to check on her injuries… I’d just dropped her at the A her movement quicker than I could take in, sending me dizzy as my eyes tried to keep up with her. As she did so, Tom rolled onto his back, wide awake. He started when he saw us watching him.

Colour flooded his face as he saw who I was with. “What the hell is going on?” he struggled to get upright, his long arms and legs sluggish.

“Tom, this is Isabel—” I began.

“I can see who she damn well is! What’s she doing in the house ?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Let me explain,” I gave Isabel a fleeting look for some support, but she just shrugged fluidly.

“Perhaps I should leave.” She shot a look at Tom, more curious than upset, and I nodded curtly in agreement. I walked her to the door, listening all the while as Tom muttered under his breath.

“In the car, before…” Isabel stood in the doorway, preventing me from closing it. “I only wanted to apologise, for the way I have been pursuing Nicholas, and my belief in his guilt.”

I grimaced, looking away.

“I was not aware of the situation between you.” Her face was a little too understanding for my liking. “I must admit, in all our years I have never seen him this way.”

I took a step away from the living room, worried Tom might overhear something that would make him angrier.

“There’s nothing going on, Isabel. There can’t be.” I murmured. “And I’ve got more important things to be worrying about than an overprotective vampire.”

Her brow creased for a second before smoothing out. I wasn’t sure I’d seen it at all.

“Of course. Though whether you like it or not, we both know it is more than simple overprotectiveness,” she murmured. “Still, try to decide how you feel… sooner rather than later. It is better to know.” She closed the door behind her softly, and her silhouette disappeared behind the glass.

Tom was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his arms folded. Isabel was right; he seemed stronger. But the way his jaw worked and the dark flush creeping up his neck told me we were seconds away from an explosion.

“Tom, I—”

“What the hell was that about?” he said furiously, gesturing to the door.

“It’s not what you think.” I tried to keep my voice calm. No matter how much explaining I had to do, looking at him, it was hard to forget he was still injured – another reminder of my failings.

“For fuck’s sake, Erin! Are you stupid? She killed Maggie!” His face crumpled at her name, and he gripped the doorframe so hard his knuckles went white against his brown skin .

“She didn’t,” I insisted. “Neither did Nicholas – it was all a setup.”

He snorted. “Can you prove that? I mean, either way, we’re talking about vamps here. They’re not exactly known for being upstanding members of society!”

“No. Well, yes – maybe. I think I saw something earlier tonight.” I quickly explained what I’d seen in the park.

Tom absorbed that for a minute, his breathing deliberately slow as he composed himself. The angry flush faded from his face, replaced by something worse – disappointment.

“Did it occur to you they might just be playing you to get you off their backs?” he said finally, his tone carefully controlled.

“I’m not an idiot, Tom. I’ve done nothing but think about this for days. Weeks, really.” I sat down and put my head in my hands. “You knew I didn’t like the idea of fighting them; there’ve been too many loose ends and unanswered questions, and I’d be risking my life on that basis…”

“Wait. So you’re… what, working with them instead? Is that what she was doing here? I thought we’d talked about this. Agreed?”

“Isabel was here to check up on you, Tom. She saved your life last night,” I said dully.

“Is that supposed to balance out the countless lives she’s taken before now? Reformed or not, she’s still a murderer!” He was getting angry again. “What about Murray? I suppose he’s innocent too. Jonathan killed himself, right?”

I flinched. “You know that’s not true. But Nicholas told me he’d never hurt Jonathan. He’s his – his great-great-great however many times uncle. His blood.”

Tom gawked. “Wait. Seriously, wait. He’s from Edinburgh, isn’t he? I remember reading it now. Your dad, before – he said the person threatening them had a weird accent.”

“Oh, nice and specific of him. Well done, Dad!” I rolled my eyes.

“But you admit he has an accent? I’m sure you’ve noticed it during your cosy little chats.”

Something on my face must have wavered, because Tom paled, watching me. He sat down abruptly.

“Is there something more going on?” His voice dropped, like he was afraid to even ask the question. His eyes searched my face, dread written in every line of his own.

“No,” I lied.

“I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re not being honest, you know. I may not be Jon—” He averted his eyes, before straightening to stare at me. “I don’t get it. Do you like him?”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eye. My treacherous fucking heart beat louder in my chest, shouting the feelings I couldn’t form the words for.

He laughed humourlessly. “That’s rich, Erin. Bloody brilliant,” he paused before exploding. “He’s a sodding vampire ! Wyatt’s a vampire! Fuck knows what Adam is, but he’s working with vamps too – that’s enough!”

“It’s not like that, Tom,” I pleaded, my eyes filling with tears despite myself. This wasn’t how I’d planned to have this conversation. “They can help us. If they’re being set up, it’s got to be someone they know – how are we supposed to stop this without their help? By the time we figure it out on our own, half the city will be dead!” I was shouting now too.

“They’re evil! They’re not human! When did it become alright to trust them?”

“For crying out loud, Tom, they’re trying to help! Someone attacked you last night and dumped you on my fucking doorstep. Do you get that you could have died? How scared I was? If Isabel hadn’t been here—”

“And I told you I saw Murray! I saw him attack me. He’s the one that left me there, bleeding half to death!”

I got out of my chair, wiping away tears with one hand in agitation. “Haven’t you been listening? There is someone out there that looks like Isabel, taunting us – if someone is setting Nicholas up too—”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” I’d never seen him look so disgusted before, the expression alien on his usually warm features. “You’ve lost it. I mean, if I’d known a pretty face was all it took…” He swallowed. “I thought you were better than that.”

He turned away, hands shaking as he pulled on his shoes in the narrow hallway, still in his dressing gown. The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the empty house, leaving me alone with my tears and the lingering scent of Isabel’s lilacs.