Page 25

T hat night, I slept better than I had in weeks. But the following day I was determined to grill Adam for everything he’d failed to catch me up on – because while our trip out had been just what I needed, we’d never even touched on the research he, Nicholas and Isabel had done.

After a quick shower, I multitasked and called him while spooning cereal into my mouth and contemplating whether it would be more efficient to just pour my coffee directly onto the sugary flakes. There was no answer, but it was still early enough to be dark outside. He might be asleep – if that was something he still did.

I paced the house for a while, trying to decide if it was too early to head over there. I had to get to Jolt today – I couldn’t get away with being so irresponsible two days in a row. Plus, the shop had overheads; I had rent and just as importantly, Jolt was all there was left to show of Jon’s legacy.

By the time I’d downed my third cup of coffee, I decided it was worth driving over. The sun still wasn’t quite up, so I’d probably be too late to catch Nicholas or Isabel, but Adam could fill me in on everything.

I rummaged around in my drawers for my favourite grey hoodie, but it was nowhere to be found, so I went all black in jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt instead. The scoop neckline did nothing for my bruises, but my wardrobe options seemed to be shrinking at an alarming rate. Dr Martens improved every outfit, anyway.

Crunching up the gravel driveway of the manor, I noticed that all the curtains at the front of the house were closed tight. Maybe the others were up, then. My stomach did a little flip, but I tried not to get my hopes up that Nicholas would still be awake – I hated that I’d gone a whole night without seeing him, wasting precious time on sleeping instead.

A dark stain still marred the doorstep despite the heavy rain the day before – another reminder of what was at stake if our research failed. Adam answered the door almost immediately.

“What a singular surprise,” he said as he stood aside to let me in. “I dare say I thought you’d have tired of my company yesterday.”

I pulled off my boots as he closed the door. “I can’t stay long, but I need an update. You didn’t answer your phone.”

“You must have caught me indisposed. My apologies.” He shot me a curious look.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Despite our ease the day before, we stood there for a moment, awkward. I felt suddenly guilty for turning up unannounced.

Adam smoothed the front of the heavy black dressing gown he wore and raised his eyebrows. “Join me for a few minutes. We can discuss the news, and the coffee is rather good, I must say.”

I relaxed and followed him through the first door on the right. Adam crossed the length of the room and opened the curtains with a heavy rope pulley. The sunrise took my breath away – pink, gold and violet painted the sky, transforming the space into a sunlit haven.

Bookshelves covered the far-left wall, floor to ceiling, with a wooden ladder attached to a runner. In the opposite corner stood a round table with eight seats. One place was set with an elaborate breakfast – far more than a single person could eat. I inhaled the familiar coffee and orange juice smell, thinking of my own less-than-exciting meal.

“Coffee, and perhaps some toast?” Adam asked, gesturing to the empty place beside him. He stood as I approached, waiting until I was seated before settling back into his own chair. Without answering, I reached for the toast rack.

“So. Yes. Research,” Adam said to himself, cutting up a piece of bacon on his plate.

I swallowed my mouthful. “Did you find anything useful?”

“I confess the findings have been interesting, but not particularly useful, no.” He poured more orange juice into his glass.

“But the diaries—”

“I didn’t return to the library after your departure. However, I understand Nick’s journals proved less than enlightening – and I suppose we might have expected as much, given that his memory is a far more extensive resource.” He paused. “I believe Nick grew impatient with the lack of progress and set out to do some research of his own. He has been corresponding with Tom about Izzie’s impersonator.”

I almost spat out my coffee. “What?”

“I thought as much.” Adam continued to work his way calmly through his breakfast, spearing a mushroom and chewing it thoughtfully.

“Start at the beginning,” I demanded.

He sighed. “As I said, Izzie and Nick continued to scour the diaries. I went to bed.”

“So you had nothing to tell me yesterday,” I stated.

“I did not. Besides, we were having a pleasant time, were we not?” He smiled, and I returned it, rolling my eyes.

“Apparently, it all began shortly after your argument. He and Thomas have been investigating her background.” He paused, chewing another forkful thoughtfully.

“Tomal,” I corrected automatically. “But what about the man with the French accent? Have we got anything there?”

Adam held his hands up. “Izzie is investigating. Nick’s certain no one escaped his notice in Paris – he claims he’d remember creating another vampire.”

“And she has no leads?”

“If she does, she hasn’t shared them yet.” He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “As for your mystery woman – Tom took a chance and ran a reverse image search on Izzie’s portrait. It seems cross-referencing it with murder cases narrowed things down.”

“And?” I pressed .

“She’s quite well documented. Older than I, from what they could determine.” He placed his knife carefully on his plate. “She’s had several personas over the years, most involving wealthy men who died of arsenic poisoning. I recall reading about a few of the crimes in the papers, though I had no idea it was the same woman.”

“Do we have a name?” I asked.

“Mary. émilie. Hélène. Sylvia. Take your pick.”

I pulled a face. “Is she French too?”

He sat back in his chair and pulled a sleek mobile phone from somewhere behind him, scrolling through until he found what he was looking for. “Did she sound French when you spoke with her? From what I understand, she’s committed mariticide in several countries, so it is a possibility…”

“She didn’t speak, but she was… I don’t know. Annoying,” I admitted. “I didn’t pick up on anything else.”

“As I expected,” he nodded, turning the screen to me so I could see the image. “If it turns out she is , it could be the link between her and her counterpart.”

It was a grainy image, black-and-white, but definitely a photograph. I could see the resemblance to Isabel immediately, but that wasn’t the most concerning part.

“Triple shot, venti, wet caramel macchiato, extra hot, extra foam. Every Monday and Thursday.” I frowned.

“Excuse me?”

“She comes into the shop. Every Monday and Thursday.” I rarely remembered customers unless there was something unusual about them. I hated making extra hot drinks, and this woman always had a weird, off-putting stare. No wonder.

Adam’s eyes widened. “You know her?”

I nodded, still staring at the image. “Do we have any other pictures?”

“A few, but this is the most recent and the best quality. I dare say she’d make a rather convincing doppelg?nger for our dear Izzie.”

“I’ve been serving her for months – and I mean, well before Jon died…” I didn’t like it. “She could have picked up all sorts, just sitting there. Watching us.” The thought made my skin crawl, and then I remembered: “And she’s been coming in later, too. At first, it was early in the day, but it’s been getting closer to noon. She’s out in the sun, Adam.”

“Ah,” Adam scowled. “Well, that’s certainly not a good sign. But if you are correct, it confirms our research is headed in the right direction.”

“I guess.” I helped myself to another piece of toast and slathered it with jam. “Do we know if she’s connected to Isabel or Nicholas?”

“Call it a hunch or what you will, but I don’t think we’ll find one,” he replied, his blue eyes darkening.

“What makes you say that?”

“A woman with a history of murdering her partners… her motivations are unlikely to have anything to do with Nick, I suspect, and more to do with this other unknown Frenchman. Her loyalty to him seems unprecedented.”

He was probably right. I swallowed my mouthful of toast.

“It doesn’t matter who she is, she’s a start. But whoever’s behind it all knows Nicholas inside and out. They’re not only copying him – they understand him, Adam.”

“Indeed. It is their understanding of his mind that I find most… concerning.”

???

T he hallway was darker than usual after the brightness of the breakfast room. It took me a moment to register I wasn’t alone. Nicholas stood halfway down the grand staircase, his hand resting lightly on the banister.

“Nicholas,” I murmured, knowing my words would carry to his sensitive ears.

“Erin. I didnae expect to see you this mornin’,” he smiled crookedly, removing his headphones and pushing his hair back from his face.

The tiles were cool beneath my feet as I padded down the hallway in my socks.

“I thought you’d be sleeping, otherwise I’d have—” I broke off, unsure what to say.

“I tend to stay up late and wake early,” he explained. “Isabel tells me I’m unusual that way. And o’ course, certain… distractions are worth stayin’ awake for.” His eyes lingered on me in a way that sent warmth rushing to my cheeks.

I nodded, trying to focus on the practical implications rather than the heat building under my skin. I’d always assumed once the sun was up, that was it: a sleep like the dead. Apparently, I’d been wrong.

Nicholas sat down on the second step from the bottom, stretching his long legs out before him, and drawing attention to the lean, toned lines of his body. After a brief hesitation, I joined him.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked, turning to look at me.

“You mean, after…” I began. “Adam checked me over. He pronounced me acceptable.” I pursed my lips.

“Your face is still bruised,” Nicholas reached out and brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. I closed my eyes, the coolness of his fingertips soothing.

“I’ll be alright in a few days. I heal quickly.”

He nodded, drawing his hand back. I reached out and took it.

“Adam said you’ve been in contact with Tom, about Isabel’s lookalike?” I asked.

“Aye. I… thought he might find it easier to communicate that way, rather than face to face. I expect he finds me less threatenin’ through a computer screen.”

I pulled a face. “I don’t think threatening is the right word. He doesn’t understand why I trust you yet. He will, though. I know he will.” Hopefully .

“I wisnae saying he feared me, as such. But…” He watched me thoughtfully, choosing his words. “You’ve both lost people. You and he… you’re friends. Twas the three of you, and now there are three more strangers in your lives.”

“But you’re helping,” I protested softly.

“Dinnae be so sure that’s enough, Erin. Neither of you’ve had time to grieve, no really. Maybe when you have, he might be more accepting.” He squeezed my hand gently.

I nodded. “Maybe,” I conceded .

We sat in content silence for a few minutes, and I shuffled closer to him on the step, leaning into his shoulder, aware of the solid strength of him even through his shirt.

A shaft of light fell into the hallway, not quite reaching us.

“The sun being up doesn’t bother you?” I asked aloud.

“No. I can sense it – feel I should sleep. It’s a wee bit uncomfortable, that’s all.”

I said nothing, remembering the ornate bed I’d seen before; the linen crumpled and unmade.

“So you don’t have to sleep?”

“I will, eventually,” he chuckled, turning his face into my hair. “But tis a rare occasion when I find myself alone with ye. I’m rather enjoying it.” His voice dropped lower, regret threading through his words. “The daylight hours – sleepin’ – seems a waste, when I should be with you.”

I nodded my agreement, but there was nothing to be done about it. Sitting with Nicholas was much like falling asleep in the sun and waking to find a cloud passing overhead. My skin grew hotter, being near him – but he cooled me down, perfectly balancing me. It was a wonderful feeling.

I caught myself wondering what it would be like to actually wake beside him each morning. Would his skin be warm from contact with mine through the night? Would those emerald eyes be the first thing I’d see? The mad domesticity of the thought was startling. I could never have that kind of future – no hunter could. Especially not with a vampire .

“When this is all over, we can do this anytime we like…” I whispered, more to myself than anything. It’s better than nothing.

I felt rather than saw Nicholas smile.

???

W hen I finally got around to leaving the manor, I was calmer than I’d been in a long time. There was no way I was heading straight to Jolt, to work and deal with the noise and the people – I wanted to hold on to my contentment for a while longer. I needed to.

But Nicholas wouldn’t be awake all day, so I decided to do the only other thing I could think of that made me feel calm and content. I’d go back to my hilltop.

Adam lived in the southwest of the city, and my hilltop was further north. It wasn’t a short drive, even with my usual shortcuts – so I figured why not embrace it? And detoured out into the Peaks to take the scenic route.

Despite my improved emotional state, I couldn’t quite shake the sensation of being watched. A flicker in my rearview mirror as I pulled out of the manor’s gravel driveway – gone before I could focus on it – made my shoulders tense, but I pushed it to the back of my mind, thinking instead about Nicholas. About the hollow feeling within that grew with each mile that separated us. It was strange how quickly his absence had become an emptiness I could almost taste. I glanced at the clock, mentally counting down the hours until darkness would fall and I could see him again .

The winter sun was low and bright as I drove through the dales, playing havoc with my vision. Patches of snow clung to the grass where the weak December light hadn’t managed to melt it yet. I squinted against the glare – the sun was too low to block with my visor, leaving me alternating between being half-blind and plunged into shadow as I navigated the winding curves of the hills and valleys.

The roads belonged to me at this hour – I didn’t pass a single car once I turned off onto the less travelled routes. Rolling down the windows for a moment, I let the biting wind whip my hair into my face. The cold felt good, waking me up far more effectively than the coffee had.

I cranked up the volume on my car’s sound system as the country lane I was on narrowed dramatically. The bare trees pressed in on both sides, making it impossible to see the stream I knew was somewhere in the steep valley below. I caught the scent of something off – sharper than normal exhaust fumes, with an edge that made my throat feel tight. I quickly rolled the windows back up, but it didn’t help.

As I drove out of the tree cover, the sun hit me full in the face, making my growing headache spike. Something wasn’t right. My hands felt heavy on the steering wheel, my vision contracting with each flash of sunlight.

I reached for my sunglasses in the glove box, my hand clumsy and uncoordinated. I must have taken my eyes off the road for a split second. After that, I remembered nothing.