Page 5

S tanding on the front doorstep, every surface glistened with a fragile frost in the moonlight. I took a slow breath and looked upward, past the stark white of the streetlights and the city, stamping my feet to get the blood flowing. A scattering of stars winked in and out of existence, barely visible despite the clear night. The air held the sharp, clean scent of ice, and I wondered whether we’d see snow soon as I set off along the shimmering pavement. Before I reached the end of the street, the fog of wine had begun to recede, replaced instead by a bone-deep cold.

Without much thought for where I was going, I headed toward a nearby park, casting my senses out into the night before me. It was a strange sensation, to pick up on points of light and warmth in some unknown part of my mind, but I’d long grown used to it. It was easy to tune the humdrum out – at least, at times like now, when there was no sign of anything more sinister. Other times I’d get a vibe about something kinky the neighbours were up to, and nothing on earth could help me shut that shit down, no matter how hard I tried .

I scanned the shadows as I strolled around the park’s fenced perimeter, my thoughts tugged back to a conversation I’d once had with Jon about dying. That same night, we’d written down our last wishes, sealing them into three envelopes for safekeeping. I’d never really believed we’d have to open them. At least, Jon’s or Tom’s.

I pulled my sleeves down over my fingers, tucking them into the wool. My breath condensed in a cloud of vapour before me, blurring my vision. The envelopes had been a precaution. I’d known the chances of my slip of paper seeing the light of day grew higher every night, but I’d thought my friends were safe. What could possibly happen from the safety of home, researching and training, never really fighting? I wouldn’t have gotten this far without them.

Tom resented it, I knew. He wanted to be out every night, with me – and I got it. To him, clearing out the vamps was a question of moral responsibility and goodness. He didn’t know I enjoyed it far too much for it to be good . The thrill of the fight, the rush of a kill. What was moral about that?

The park entrance was already locked when I reached it, but I vaulted the iron gate with ease. A lock had never kept me out of anywhere as a kid, and it wouldn’t keep out the determined ones now, either. Maybe moody teens were all I’d find tonight – but a newbie vamp or two would make a better dessert than Tom’s tiramisu had.

The sweeping lawns and gentle hills of the park stretched toward the horizon, their colour leeched away by the artificial light. In the day, the trees would be glorious: fireworks of orange and yellow leaves clinging to the last vestiges of autumn. Now, the dim lamps only illuminated the paths, forcing the life and colour of the day to retreat into shadow.

As I made my way between the odd, abandoned stone buildings that were placed at key locations around the park, I wondered what the original owners would think of the place now. I’d read it had once been the grounds of a mansion home until the aristocracy that lived there had gone bankrupt and were forced to auction off the land and property. The house itself had fallen into disrepair and been demolished decades ago, but the grounds had been bought by the local government and now belonged to the public. Which included my favourite place, and all that remained of the former stately home: overgrown walled gardens behind the old lodge.

My legs took me in that direction without much thought, and I pushed through the curtain of winter jasmine that hid the rotting wooden gate, breathing in its heady fragrance. A small pond ahead was green and overrun with lilies, the paths cracked and uneven underfoot, and ivy had overtaken a good portion of the place, crawling up every tree and pergola. But it was undeniably beautiful. There was something about walking under the trellises that felt like you were in on an ancient secret, and a peaceful silence lay over everything.

The old lodge loomed ahead, its stone walls weathered by decades of neglect. Empty windows gaped like a hollowed-out pumpkin in the moonlight, the shattered glazing long gone.

There was no light or sound from within, even when I turned my senses up to eleven. But once in a while, the lodge’s occupants would spot me coming from the upper storey and hide. I sighed, but I’d come this far. It was always worth double-checking.

Pushing aside the heavy door, I stepped into the room I thought of as the kitchen, a cracked porcelain sink in one corner the only piece of furniture. I cast my senses outward and upward, shuddering with effort, but no warmth or light echoed back.

The stone steps were worn smooth from centuries of footfall, but the gritstone held firm beneath my boots. Moonlight filtered through the empty windows, casting strange shadows across the stairwell. I’d been here enough times to know where it was safe to put my feet, but if I was honest, I knew they should tear the place down – for the sake of the local teens’ safety, if nothing else. The problem was, if that happened, people would realise the garden was here, and they would overrun my little place.

The first landing was as empty as I’d suspected, the internal walls and floor now almost entirely gone. Taking care with each step, I proceeded across the main beam that ran through the house. The joists on either side were heavy with rot, but I’d crossed this one plenty of times with no problem – and it was only way to get to the attic stairs at the other side of the building. I paused at the edge of the room and listened once more. Nothing looked out of place – the usual debris littered the remaining areas of floorboards, along with a fair number of discarded drinks cans and crisp packets. I shivered at a creak in the room above me. As silently as possible, I made my way up .

Teenagers didn’t normally make it this far in – it was fairly precarious without the added benefit of supernatural balance and speed. It had happened once or twice, but chances were, if there was something up here besides a pigeon or two, I’d have a fight on my hands.

At the top of the stairs, a gust of wind swept through the hollow building with an eerie howl, almost knocking me back a step. A small, furry creature scurried away into a dark shadowy corner across the room, but otherwise, everything seemed as abandoned as ever.

I waited, freezing in the cold wind. My usual approach of throwing out my senses said the place was empty, but deeper down, something didn’t feel… right. Maybe my aim was off, or the wine was still working its way out of my system. I had to be sure.

There were plenty of floorboards remaining up here, but none of them looked particularly safe. I scanned them, searching for the supporting joists beneath decades of dust and rubbish. The central beam seemed least damaged – but was farthest from the support of the walls. Typical.

Steeling myself, I took small steps onto the beam. Each movement sent tiny vibrations through the timber, my excellent balance the only thing between me and the shadows below. A few more steps and I was halfway. One more step… An ominous creak shuddered beneath my boots as my senses jangled, screaming at me to stop. I spun into a crouch without thinking.

If I hadn’t been so hyped up, the resounding crack as wood splintered beneath me would probably have happened in slow motion. But my senses were sharp, and instead, I was momentarily weightless as the beam split and the floor collapsed around me. With a cry, I threw out my arms, smashing into the next beam on the floor below. The fall forced the air from my lungs, and I gasped, winded, and tried to gather myself to crawl to the edge of the room. Before I could turn, the wood beneath me groaned and splintered, the sound echoing through the hollow building. I scrabbled for a handhold, my fingers slipping through the dirt and debris, but everything around me was falling too.

My muscles reacted faster than my mind, and I twisted in on myself to avoid cracking my head as I landed, throwing out my left arm to cushion my skull. My ankle, hip and ribs jarred on impact with the bare stone, the shock reverberating through my body. Icy, stagnant water saturated my clothes as my eyes drifted closed.

When I became aware of the room again, the dust from above was still settling around me like powdery snow. Winded as I was, I struggled to breathe through it – but adrenaline pounded through my system, forcing me to keep pulling in air. Bit by bit, my heart rate slowed, and my panic subsided as oxygen flooded back into my lungs. I let out a low groan. What the actual fuck was that?

Pain pulsed down one side of my body, where I’d taken the force of the fall. My head told me to get up and out of the unstable building, but it was all I could do to close my eyes against the ringing that vibrated through my skull. I breathed deeply, willing it to stop .

It’s the middle of the bloody night, Erin. Nobody knows you’re here. Move your arse.

With an effort, I pulled myself into a sitting position. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” I swore through my teeth.

My left elbow throbbed – the most noticeable of my injuries – and I struggled to focus on much else until a voice spoke behind me.

“Easy there, lass. Best stay still a moment while we make sure you’re in one piece.” The words had a soft cadence, but I still jumped at the sound. It wasn’t often anyone sneaked up on me.

In the moonlight that fell through the fractured ceiling, my heart caught in my throat. The voice belonged to a figure in the doorway – an all too familiar ghost. As he stepped into the light, I found myself staring at his finely drawn features.

A wariness entered his expression as his eyes travelled across my filthy, soaked form. “Are you okay?”

I knew he’d asked a question, but I couldn’t answer. Green, almond-shaped eyes flecked with gold peered at me in utter confusion, and that nagging sense of familiarity tugged at me again – though Jon’s eyes had been hazel, and he definitely wasn’t Jon. This stranger was striking in his own right – high, wide cheekbones, a firm jaw and a full mouth currently pulled into an expression of worry. His long coat and loose scarf gave him an air of easy elegance, even as he crouched in the rubble beside me, arms resting on his knees.

I shook my head, instantly regretting it when the night spun around me. “My elbow’s hurt. And my ankle and hip. And, you know, my pride.”

Fuck, he looks like him. But it isn’t. Look. Listen. He’s gone.

“Ah.” One side of his mouth twitched up into a half-smile. “Well, tis to be expected, I should think.” His chuckle was warm and smooth, like caramel. “The bleeding seems to have stopped already, though—” He reached out toward my face and hesitated, withdrawing his hand as he straightened and stood.

I touched my fingers to my forehead, and they came away black and sticky in the darkness. Passing an assessing hand over the rest of my features, I caught several splinters embedded in my cheek and hissed at the sting. At least it was nothing Tom couldn’t fix with a couple of butterfly stitches.

Wiping the blood onto my already filthy jeans, and attempting to brush some of the dust from my shoulders and hair, I peeked at the stranger, who was looking back at me with equal curiosity.

“May I—?” His touch was light as he stepped behind me and assessed my injuries, his fingers trailing along my spine with a practised precision that was both clinical and intimate. I held my breath, hyperaware of every point of contact even through the heavy knit of my jumper, but nothing seemed to be damaged.

“Where did you come from?” I asked, pushing myself up on my uninjured arm. He held out a hand to help, stepping back as soon as I was upright.

“I saw you disappear into the gardens, afore. I didnae ken they were here and found myself intrigued,” he shrugged. “I’m sorry I wisnae following more closely. I could’ve helped. ”

His story was believable enough, but I forced myself to look away. The light from above put the kitchen of the old lodge on full display, highlighting the disrepair. What had I been thinking, going out on that beam?

“It’s alright,” I told him. “Unless you were planning on catching me, it wouldn’t have made a difference.” I tried a few steps and found my ankle didn’t want to bear my weight. The stranger held out an arm for me to lean on. “Thanks,” I said, taking it without thinking.

“Still…” He cast a brief look at my hand where it rested on his arm, and to my face. “I’m Cole. And despite the circumstances, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gave me a rueful smile and tilted his head to assess me, his eyes lingering on my mouth. “I must admit, I’m fair amazed you’re conscious . Is that an impolite thing to say?” I placed his Scottish brogue now, much stronger than Jim’s had been.

I laughed and winced when the pain from my ankle pulsed up my leg. “Oh, I blacked out for a moment there. Don’t doubt it.”

With Cole’s hold firm on my arm, he guided me out of the lodge, positioning himself between me and the unstable structure. The paths, with their cracks and overgrown foliage, were now more dangerous than before. Usually, having a stranger so close would make me uneasy, but without him, getting home seemed nigh on impossible.

“Are you a doctor?” I asked, remembering his quick, competent analysis as he adjusted his stride to match my shorter steps, creating a shield against the bitter wind .

He gave me a roguish grin. “That depends on who’s asking, lass.”

We’d reached the garden’s edge, and as I gazed up at him under the pale glow of the streetlamps, I noticed the smile lines around his eyes and mouth as he looked at me, bemused. I’d guess late twenties, early thirties, maybe a little older than me, and remarkably easy on the eyes. Dark waves of hair fell in a careless tumble past his ears, constantly threatening to obscure those striking eyes. A lock fell across his forehead as I watched, and he absently pushed it back, only for it to escape again moments later. The warm mahogany tones complemented his refined features well, and fuck , was that rakish little move distracting. I shook my head, as I realised he’d been scrutinising me just as closely.

“I can probably manage from here,” I said, pulling my eyes away. It was true, but my ankle was as good an excuse as any to prolong the conversation. I was leaning into him despite myself, though my clothes were still drenched and icy. Maybe I was concussed.

“Ah, but what kind of gentleman would I be, leaving a lady to brave these treacherous paths alone? Another ruin might fall on ye. Or mayhap a tree.” He grinned down at me, eyes crinkling. “I dinnae need the worry of a strange, pretty lass on my conscience. Bold as the moon you may be, climbing in the rafters – but soft as stardust and prone to breaking.”

I blushed hard, but I was pleased. “Are you always this poetic about potential concussions?”

“Only the bonnie ones,” he smiled.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but notice how his height and frame carried an effortless kind of strength. At least six foot four, maybe six five, his height gave him an agile grace that made my stumbling seem more awkward than ever. The thick navy jumper he wore beneath his coat pulled taut across his chest and shoulders, and there was something quietly devastating about the artistry of his face and the firm steadiness of his hands as he supported me. The cut of his coat had hidden it at first, but this close, I was intensely aware of the solid strength of his body against mine.

I wanted to keep him close, and it was more than the need for physical support. It was hard to explain, but Cole felt… safe.

“Do you mind if I ask what you were doing in the lodge?” He asked. “Seems a wee bit dreich to be out so late.”

“I needed to clear my head,” I lied. “Exploring sometimes helps.”

Cole nodded. “Aye, I ken the feeling. When your head’s so full…” he paused. “How is your head?”

“Fuzzy, but not too bad.” I touched my temple again, conscious of the streaks of dirt and blood on my face. “My arm took the brunt of it.”

He came to a stop and seemed to be appraising my outfit. “Are you cold? You must be soaked through.”

I grimaced, comparing my dirty jumper to his smart coat, which hung around him in perfect, tailored lines.

“I’ll be fine,” I clenched my teeth together to hide my shivering, but he wasn’t fooled. Barely letting go of my arm, he removed his coat in a singular smooth motion and draped it over my shoulders. I felt warmer immediately, but had to resist the urge to bury my nose in the collar, surrounded by his woodsy, pine-like scent.

For a few minutes, we made silent, steady progress along tidier paths. My ankle throbbed with each step, but it wasn’t enough to distract from my curiosity about Cole now that my teeth had stopped chattering. I tried not to steal glances at him as we walked, but several times I caught him looking back at me. Each time our eyes met, my stomach did a little flip. His half-smiles were doing dangerous things to my ability to focus on walking straight, injured ankle or not. Play it cool, Erin.

We stopped as we reached the edge of the park, and I gawked up at the fence I’d leapt so confidently before. Cole’s mouth quirked up into a grin – clearly, I wasn’t great at hiding my emotions from this guy.

“It was open when I arrived, I swear.” He held up a hand in mock solemnity. “We’ll find another way out. You cannae climb over a fence like that in this state.”

I had to agree with him. “I think there’s a wall nearby where the fence is lower. I might be able to make it there,” I suggested.

“A true midnight wanderer,” he replied, tightening his grip on my arm. “You must spend a lot of time here.”

I didn’t answer. It was safer not to.

We soon found the right place, where the railings had been cut down and their metal taken for munitions during the Second World War. The stumps left in the stone were rusted over, but Cole helped to hoist me onto the top without difficulty. His hold never faltered as I clambered one leg at a time through the narrow gap. His hands were steady at my waist, and I tried not to focus on how easily he lifted me, or how my skin tingled where we touched.

“Not exactly my most graceful display,” I commented.

Amusement played around his lips in a crooked smile as he climbed after me, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely. “Words couldnae describe it.”

As we walked along the empty streets, the wind began to pick up, whipping my hair around my face. I tried to place the odd expression I’d seen, but the pain in my elbow and ankle was growing distracting, and I struggled to think straight.

“This is me,” I said as we reached the steps leading up to my front door. I pulled away from the comfort and support of his arm to rest on the wall.

Cole looked up at the house. The lamp I’d left on in the living room window cast a warm glow into the dark street, highlighting those remarkable cheekbones and the way his too-long hair fell across his forehead.

“How’s your head, now?” he asked, his voice somewhere between concern and amusement. “You mightn’t want to fall asleep yet, in case of concussion and such.”

I bit back a laugh – he seemed genuinely worried. And of course, he was right.

“Honestly, I’ve had worse,” I said, hauling myself up the three steps to the door. I fumbled through my keys at the top, my fingers numb with cold.

“Worse falls or worse head injuries?” He raised an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in his eyes. Before I could protest, he’d swiftly taken my keys and straightened them out with the same calm efficiency he’d shown while examining my back. I gaped at him, and the already familiar expression returned, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. Remembering his coat, I shrugged it off and handed it over. He took it with a nod, and in a slow deliberate gesture, reached for the uninjured side of my face, drawing his hand down my cheekbone with an impossible gentleness that made me shiver. I closed my eyes for a second, wondering, and when I opened them, he was at the bottom of the steps.

“I’d usually prefer dinner and dancing to moonlit adventures in ruins. But I have to admit, this has been far more… memorable,” he pushed his hands deeply into his pockets as he spoke. “Still, if ye’d promise not to go exploring another derelict building any time soon, I’d sleep easier, lass. For my peace of mind, eh?” He dipped his head, reminding me of an actor from an old black-and-white film. And without waiting for an answer, walked away.

I admired his retreating silhouette for a few seconds, marvelling at the strangeness of a stranger and already missing his presence – but it was too cold to dawdle, and I hurried into the warmth of the house. Resting on the table in the hallway, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, dropping into a quick, semi-meditative state to assess the damage. The pain of every injury seemed poignant and sharp, but I had to take stock of how bad it was.

The brunt of the fall had messed up most of my left side, and besides my sprained ankle, my elbow had begun to swell. Fan-fucking-tastic . It didn’t feel like a proper break, but it was probably fractured. My ribs were sore, too, and I reckoned a couple were cracked, but that was par for the course. I’d heal in a week or so.

I looked blankly at the dark hallway and considered a hot bath before bed. A glance at my phone – mercifully undamaged – told me it was later than I’d planned to be home, but a long soak seemed like a good idea. Cole had been right about staying awake.

The trip upstairs was a Herculean task, and some idle part of my brain contemplated what might have happened if I’d invited Cole in to help a little longer. Still, I couldn’t get around the weird expression I’d seen on his face before, when I’d climbed the fence. It was familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.

As the bath ran, I rummaged around in the cabinet under the sink for the strongest painkillers I had, mulling it over. It wasn’t until I sank into the hot water and the scent of spearmint cleared my mind that I worked it out. But it made no sense.

Disbelief , I thought. Utter disbelief.