Page 34

A fter Alistair’s tirade, I was left alone with my thoughts. My stomach cramped – fuck knows when I’d last eaten anything. Intermittently being drugged unconscious didn’t exactly do much for my sense of time, and while the slow movement of faint light gave me something to go on, it wasn’t too specific about mealtimes.

I’d long since stopped trying to find a comfortable position, and my legs were still dead – not that it looked like I’d be needing them any time soon. My escape plan hadn’t exactly come along as I’d hoped, given the grogginess, injuries and my utter inability to do so much as shift position.

Alistair’s words lingered in my mind long after he’d left. My breath clouded in front of my face as I sighed, trying to flex my frozen fingers. How was I supposed to look Nicholas in the eye now, and trust he was a good man?

I didn’t want to accept that the person I’d begun to care for could be capable of causing pain to the extent Alistair had suffered; yet the logical part of me insisted that after all, he was a vampire . Torn between my heart and my head, I struggled to accept the gaping chasm of distance between the Nicholas I knew, and the Nicholas I’d read and heard about.

Eventually, my head pounding from the combination of the gas, the injuries to my face and a swirl of racing thoughts I couldn’t quieten, I succumbed to exhaustion. The dull throb of pain in my shoulders and the growl of my empty stomach followed me down into darkness. In those final moments before unconsciousness, Nicholas’s face floated in my mind – not the monster Alistair described, but the man who’d looked so vulnerable, so… broken, when he’d told me about his past. The contradiction made my heart hurt more than my wounds.

???

U pon waking, I knew immediately something was different. Before I’d fully reached consciousness, the sharp scent of wet earth and rust filled my lungs, bringing with it a cold that reached deep into my bones.

I was cramped into a corner, my back against cold metal that seemed to curve upward and away behind me. My arms were still restrained above my head, but the icy bite of steel and a hollow jangling when I shifted told me my plastic ties had been upgraded. The sound bounced back at me oddly, as though the space was enclosed. Contained.

Some of the feeling had come back to my legs, though I almost wished it hadn’t, since pins and needles had given way to stiff, aching muscles. Stretching them out into nothingness, I found I was raised above the ground. The rough surface under my thighs caught my skin when I moved – some kind of wooden platform or bench. My bare feet found something solid when I stretched, too. Another bench, maybe, or a cabinet.

In pitch darkness, I couldn’t even begin to guess where the hell I was. The air was heavy with a dampness that reminded me of the chill I’d once felt exploring caves by the beach with Jon and Tom. But that wouldn’t account for the uniform ridges at my back, cold and unyielding.

Time passed without consequence or acknowledgement, as I gave up tugging at the restraints bolted to the wall. The gloom pressed in closer with each passing minute. To keep the panic at bay, I sang David Bowie songs under my breath, focusing on the thought that if they needed to hide me this well, someone must be getting close.

A scraping sound made me jump. A crack of light split the darkness, and I finally saw my prison for what it was – a metal tunnel barely wider than my stretched arms. The curved ceiling was so low that even lying on the bench, my head nearly brushed it. No wonder the air felt so close.

The sliver of light widened. For a moment I glimpsed the starry night beyond before émilie’s silhouette filled the doorway. Moonlight flooded in, making me squint, but I could see she still held her mutilated arm close to her body. Closing the door behind her, the blue light of an electric travel lamp cast twisted shadows on the walls. She placed a small tin on the cabinet by the door before settling on an identical bench across from me.

As my eyes adjusted, my prison revealed itself. Metal walls arched overhead in corrugated ribs. The benches weren’t benches – they were makeshift beds, and I recognised the basic design of an Anderson shelter, flashing back to images on a slideshow I’d seen at a school assembly decades ago. The weight of the earth above me suddenly felt much heavier – this place was designed to withstand bombs. Which meant my chances of being able to escape unaided had gotten exponentially smaller in the last five minutes.

émilie tilted her head, studying me. The harsh light hollowed her cheeks and made the shadows under her eyes seem deeper than ever. Even wounded, she’d be stronger than me – drinking vampire blood would do that to a girl. But maybe if I found the right moment, the right weapon…

She watched me for a long while, a predatory look of anticipation on her face. Slowly, she slunk closer, resting her right hand heavily on my knees, pinning my legs in place.

“You’ve been struggling.”

I gave her the filthiest look I could muster, though I suspected the full force of my malice was lost amid the bruising on my face. My fingers flexed against the manacles.

One hand, Erin. That’s all you need.

“You’re wasting your time, you know. There’s no way out of here,” she added. “How long do you think we’ve been preparing for this?”

“My friends will be here. Give them time.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure they will, eventually.” Her quiet laugh bounced off the curved metal walls, coming back at me from all sides. “Probably Tommy boy first – yes, okay, you caught me – we don’t have him. But don’t worry, he won’t get to you. I’ve got special plans for him.” She waved her stump meaningfully. “Can’t let him get away with this, can I?

“And then there’s that creepy blonde you’ve begun associating with.” She squeezed my knee sharply with her fingernails. “What a strange, selfish attempt at humanity he is. I thought you had better taste. I mean, at least Murray and Wyatt are… legendary. What’s he ?”

I said nothing. I hadn’t learned enough about Adam to get into a battle of words with her – but I knew enough to know she was wrong about him. All I could focus on was my relief that Tom was safe.

“Now, shall we begin?” she asked delicately. “Alistair wants you to kill Murray, as you know – and I strongly support that plan. But that’s not for today.” She paused, waiting.

“I’ve thought a lot about what Murray did to Alistair. I mean, you’ve seen him – he may walk and talk, but he’s a mess ,” she whispered, as though confiding some secret.

I remained silent, watching her for a way in. Or through . She seemed to enjoy the sound of her own voice, and the longer she talked, the more she revealed. But there was something unhinged in her eyes that made my skin crawl way beyond the usual chills and shivers. A deeper, darker kind of cold.

“It seems only fair,” she continued, sliding her hand down my calf and gripping my still-bound ankles, “that Alistair’s suffering should be paid back in kind.” She nodded to herself, eyes blank in the lamplight.

“It’s difficult to make Murray suffer in the usual ways. He’s old, and he heals so quickly… it’s why we’ve had to get a little creative, you know? ”

“If you want him dead anyway—” I began.

“ They want him dead,” she snapped. “And so they should. I want him to hurt first,” she smiled to herself. “I want to watch the torment on his face when he sees what I’ve left of you – because for some reason you’re the only thing he sees.” She flashed a quick, vicious grin at me.

“Of course, I can’t do so much damage that you’re incapable of killing the wretch – don’t worry. We need you in good enough condition for that, at least. But—”

She yanked my ankles hard, forcing me flat against the icy wooden bench. The ceiling seemed to press lower, the walls closing in as she leaned in to whisper in my ear. “That still leaves plenty of soft, vulnerable hunter flesh to work with.”

I pulled my knees back up towards myself, scrabbling to get back into a seated position, but she wrenched my legs out again, sitting on my feet to hold me there. Reaching for the box she’d brought in with her, the lid swung back with a faint rattle, and she picked out a surgeon’s scalpel. Deftly, she turned it in the lamp’s light, examining the blade.

“You’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little clumsy.” She waved her stump at me. “I’m used to having both hands, but I’ll try my best. I’m dying to find out how much you can take.”

I glared at her, unable to move or act under her weight as she cut through my filthy vest to expose my torso.

“Soon Murray will come for you.” The words came out like a purr. “The daylight won’t stop him – not now. He’ll be weaker, though, exposed…” Her eyes gleamed, and she drew the tip of the blade from my sternum to the waistband of my jeans in a lo ng, shallow cut. “Alistair knows him too well.”

The scalpel’s path burned against my frozen skin. Blood trickled warmly down my side while my breath clouded in the frigid air. I bit down hard enough to taste copper, forcing back the sound rising in my throat. Every instinct screamed at me to fight back, break free, do something . But the manacles bit deeper as I tensed, and émilie’s weight pinned my legs uselessly to the bench. It’d been a long time since I’d felt this… defenceless.

“He won’t fall for it.” I spat through gritted teeth.

Her quiet laugh filled the small space. “He already has. The sun’s rising, and we know exactly where he is. That’s the problem with sharing blood…” She made another cut by the first, deeper than before. “Nicholas might be able to sense you now, if you shared enough. But Alistair? Even a tiny taste from years ago is enough for him to know when Nicholas is close.”

Unfazed by my lack of reaction, she made another long cut beside the first. “By the time we’re done, he’ll be here. And then…” She pushed the stump of her arm into my stomach to pull the skin taut. “Well, then the real fun begins.”

I tried not to flinch as she angled the blade, the cold flat side of it against my flesh. Unable to stop myself, I cried out as she drove it under the skin, peeling the surface cleanly away. The raw, exposed flesh bled heavily as my heart rate rose. But she wiped it clean, not even tempted. I dug my fingernails into my palms, swallowing my scream as she drew another line, and began again.

???

A fter Murray’s revelation, Tom was growing more concerned about Erin’s state by the second – though for the first time since they’d been at the empty house, he genuinely thought they might have a shot at finding her. The three immortals made their way down to the ground floor, leaving the faded old notebook on the dressing table.

He followed them downstairs, his mind spinning. Every time he looked at Nicholas now, he saw both the monster who might have got Erin killed and the prisoner who’d survived hell. And yeah, Erin could handle herself. She always had. But the idea that he was starting to see Nicholas as an actual fucking person… that was a whole new thing he didn’t have time to get his head around right now. Though maybe the mess of contradictions that was Murray was why Erin hadn’t talked to him about all this sooner – not that he’d exactly made himself available to discuss it.

“There are only so many places this Alistair could hide within a reasonable distance of the city and his feeding ground. Not all of those will match the information we have, so we need to narrow it down,” Adam said, continuing a conversation Tom hadn’t been listening to. The immortal placed a mug of coffee in front of him with a deliberate bang, drawing his thoughts back into the room as liquid sloshed over the rim. “It’s a process of elimination.”

“What?” Tom asked, coming back to himself as Isabel removed a vacuum flask from the fridge, the seal breaking with a soft hiss. The red liquid made a sick, viscous sound as she poured it into a highball glass. Tom’s throat closed up, acid burning at the back of his mouth as he fixed his gaze on the kitchen tiles, counting the squares to keep his coffee down.

“You’ve lived here your entire life, is that correct?” Adam asked, evidently trying not to roll his eyes.

“In the city? Yeah. But we’ve already gone over this – soil and metal, remember? I don’t know every inch of the city, no one does – and if you reckon we’re looking for a metal building, you’ve got no chance,” Tom answered, averting his eyes from Isabel. “This is Steel City.”

He thought about it. “We could maybe try the industrial district, near Solace’s place. Some of the warehouses and closed up workshops might fit the description, but Erin searched them when she was looking for Murray before – we know they’re abandoned.”

“I dinnae think a warehouse would leave such a scent,” Nicholas said, taking an identical glass from Isabel. “T'would have to be somewhere smaller, and iron – no the stainless steel used in modern structures.”

“Could you not ?” Tom protested, unable to restrain himself any longer.

Isabel arched a dark eyebrow at him, taking a delicate sip from her glass. “Would you have me hunt in the streets instead? I assure you, that would prove far less… palatable, to your sensibilities.”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “No, but you could at least wait until I’m not here to watch the show. An opaque cup wouldn’t hurt.”

“They have to keep feeding if they are to be at peak strength, Tom,” Adam reasoned. “And we need that strength.”

“We won’t need anything if we can’t figure out where the bastard is keeping her,” Tom fumed under his breath.

“Nick, I assume you didn’t find anything at the warehouses?” Isabel asked. “It seems to be our only plausible destination. And now, with more context?”

Tom and Adam shared a look of confusion.

“What’re you talking about?”

Nicholas sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I didnae mention it because we didnae learn anythin’ – but Erin and I went to see Solace.”

“We need to know everything , haven’t you figured that out yet?” Tom tried not to raise his voice, but he couldn’t help it. “Solace knows this city better than anyone. She must have had something to say?”

“She wasnae exactly in a position to. Her warehouse had been attacked – presumably by Alistair’s female accomplice, given the description she provided.” Nicholas’s voice dropped lower. “Solace didnae see much, but they’d fed on her people. Killed them. Vampire on vampire feedin’…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“But… it is taboo.”

Isabel made a sound of utter revulsion, turning away. The disgust on her face spoke volumes, and Tom could tell this wasn’t just murder to her, it was something far worse.

“What does this mean for us?” he asked.

Isabel sighed. “It means our enemy will be more formidable than we had previously anticipated. It also explains – to some extent – why Alistair’s accomplice has been moving about during the day, and perhaps even how Alistair survived such terrible experiments.” She raised her glass. “As such, this is more necessary than ever.”

“Delightful,” Adam said dryly, pushing a laptop across the counter towards Tom, who was busy suppressing the urge to vomit.

“What do you want me to do with that?” He asked once his stomach was under control again.

“Find Erin’s location.” Adam gave him a look that clearly implied Tom was being slow on purpose.

“Google it? Are you serious?” Tom snorted. “Because typing ‘ vampire kidnapping locations ’ into Maps is really going to help.”

“No. I want you to cross-reference the information we have with the additional facts Nick is about to share with us.” He gave a little laugh. “You are the most technologically inclined amongst us. I’ve never cared for the internet.”

Tom ignored him but carefully pulled the laptop closer, angling the screen away from the others. “What facts?”

Nicholas swept a hand through his already dishevelled hair, draining the last of his glass of blood. “There are many things as could be relevant…”

“So start at the beginning. You said you didn’t meet in Paris. Where did you meet?” Isabel was reliably matter-of-fact, and Tom was grateful she had no qualms about getting straight to the point where the others appeared to dawdle.

“He was workin’ at a fair on the outskirts with his mother; some fortune-telling trick for the tourists, I think. I found it mildly entertainin’. He was moving to the city, and I had the room available.” He rolled his shoulders, the gesture distinctly human for a vampire.

“Did he have a family? Was he already a vampire?” Isabel pushed.

“I dinnae ken! He wisnae a vampire, no. But he knew what I was,” he hesitated. “I cannae say if I made him, but I fed on him – an accident, and I didnae ken what I do now…” Nicholas paced the length of the kitchen.

“What about his character? What was he like, back then?” Adam urged.

“I barely remember, Adam. Twas such a short time, amidst all the memories.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, staring out of the window into the darkness beyond the glass. “He was canny. A scientific thinker, I suppose. And he enjoyed his tricks and games; I remember that much. Tis why I suspected he was connected; the flowers – the note.”

“‘ Checkmate ,’” Tom quoted.

“Aye. We would play chess together in the camp, with pebbles and a board drawn in the dirt. Twas our way of keepin’ sane, of focusing on somethin’ else. We’d share stories. Parts of our lives from before,” Nicholas explained, turning back to the counter and seating himself opposite Isabel.

“Were there any other games?” she asked.

“It wasnae merely games – it’s hard to explain. It was the winnin’ of the thing; the flair and drama – twas why he came to Paris. He loved the theatre and the arts. I suspect he’ll want to set the stage for me now, too. ”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s preparing dinner and a show?”

“I’d imagine… he’ll do anythin’ he thinks might hurt me as they hurt him. If he thinks I abandoned him, he’ll want to remind me of the suffering we endured. That he endured, because of me.” He rubbed his temples with a finger and thumb, his hair sticking up boyishly.

“He will want to remind you of the war?” Adam said, nodding.

“I should expect so,” Isabel agreed. “Though I doubt anyone could forget.”

“He already has been,” Nicholas murmured.

Adam frowned. “What on earth do you mean?”

Nicholas gazed at the floor tiles. “It wasnae til we were at Erin’s that I realised…” he hesitated. “Tom mentioned the water temperature at Maggie’s had been controlled. That someone was keepin’ Jonathan awake, starving him…”

“And?” Tom asked.

“There were experiments in water like that at the camp, to do with blood coagulation… And there were prisoners left tortured, forced to stand in the same spot. Even the woman left on your doorstep, Adam—” he looked to his friend. “She was arranged like the corpses of runaways used to be, out front.”

“So there have been clues all along, and you said nothing.” Adam’s tone barely contained his irritation. “Hints at every death.”

“No!” Nicholas shook his head. “I thought them familiar, that’s all. I didnae recognise the connection until later. Until it was too late.”

Tom’s hands clenched over the laptop. Every new detail made the knot in his chest tighter – if they were recreating wartime tortures with their other victims, fuck knows what they would do to Erin. But there was no way anyone else could have spotted the pattern – it was intended for Nicholas alone, not that the thought was much comfort. If he or Erin had somehow seen it earlier… This could have been over long ago. But it was too late now – and Erin was still gone. Finding her was the most important thing. He flexed his fingers and started typing.

“Do you think he might be keeping her somewhere that dates back to that time?”

The atmosphere shifted, Nicholas’s oversights not so much forgiven and forgotten, but set aside for now.

“There aren’t many buildings that survived,” Isabel said. “Sheffield was bombed heavily, given the steelworks.” She leaned over his shoulder to see the screen. “Yet it would have to be somewhere abandoned, isolated—”

Tom stared at the search results, but his mind was already somewhere else – trudging up muddy paths with Jon, who’d insist on exploring every abandoned building they passed. “Historical significance,” he’d always said. Tom had called it Jon’s death wish, back then. The irony made his chest tight. There were so many routes – so many abandoned places out in the middle of nowhere…

“Wait,” Tom paused with his fingers hovering over the keyboard, ignoring how uncomfortably close Isabel still was. Her breath was cool on his neck, the strange scent of lilacs in snow making him increasingly uncomfortable. “I might know where they are.”

“Impossible,” Adam protested. “We haven’t begun to—”

“Let me speak, will you?” Tom cut across him. “There’s an old farmhouse. It’s not technically in the city, but it’s somewhere near the moors.”

“I don’t see how this helps,” Adam stated, folding his arms.

“It’s not too far from the bridge where Erin crashed the car, which would fit – and it has an Anderson shelter around the back,” Tom spoke more quickly now, certain he was right.

“A bomb shelter?” Nicholas’s head snapped up.

“Yeah, one of those that’s half underground, with the sandbags and stuff. It’s mostly derelict, but it seems like the sort of place that’d bring back memories, right?” Tom kept his eyes on the laptop screen, pretending not to notice the way Murray’s fingers dug into the counter.

“Aye.” Nicholas’s voice had gone quiet. “We discussed the merits of the shelters once, practicality-wise. They didnae seem like they’d be much protection from a missile—” He broke off, his green eyes distant with memory. “He always said they were better for keepin’ people in than danger out.”

Tom pushed away from the counter without waiting to hear more.

“Where are you going?” Isabel called after him, as he hurried down the hallway.

“To get Erin! It makes sense – we know where she is!” Tom barely stopped himself from walking into her as she materialised in front of him. He yanked his coat from the hook, ignoring her glare. Her hand was outstretched as though she’d meant to pull him back but thought better of it.

“You are human. You cannot fight them. Let us go,” she said softly.

Tom scoffed. “Not a chance. It’s my fault they took her in the first place—”

“I dinnae disagree with ye, but Izzie’s right,” Nicholas grunted, following them into the hallway. “We need to assess the environment first. I winnae put it past Alistair to have prepared a trap.”

Tom struggled to keep his voice under control, since it would only work against him. “I’ve got no intention of fighting Alistair, and especially not his scary one-handed friend – I just want to get Erin out.”

“Tom, please. Think about this.” Adam placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

Tom shook him off and pulled away, reaching for the door handle. “Don’t start acting like any of you are actually my friends, alright? I needed your help, you needed mine – now maybe it’s time we dealt with this our own way.” He wrenched the door open, an icy wind blasting through into the hall.

“I can’t wait around anymore.” Tom’s voice cracked. “Do you realise she’s been gone for over twenty-four hours?” The words caught in his throat as the full weight of that time hit him. His hand shook as he gripped the door handle. “She’s my best friend. She’s practically my family. I can’t wait – even if it scares the hell out of me.”

“Then I shall go,” Adam said simply, pushing the door closed. “She’s my friend too, Tom. And I can’t die.”

Tom scowled but didn’t protest. It made strategic sense – and of the three immortals, Adam was the only one he halfway trusted. Being unkillable was a hell of an advantage. Still, didn’t mean he had to like it.

“We need to get close enough to see what we’re dealing with,” Adam said, already shrugging on his coat. “I can do that.”

Isabel’s face darkened and she exchanged a sharp look with Nicholas before turning back to Adam. “The sun will rise in three hours. You know we cannot help if something goes wrong.” The words hung in the air between them.

“Which is precisely why I should go alone,” Adam replied. “But if you don’t hear from me by first light…” He checked his phone. “I’ll share my location with you. Perhaps the storm will give you enough cloud cover to follow if you must.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Isabel’s voice was sharp.

“Then wait for proper cover. But no longer than that – we may not have much time.” Adam glanced at Tom. “You should keep him here.”

“And you? You can’t die, but you can get hurt, Adam,” she pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do not pretend you care, Izzie – falsehood is unflattering on you.”