Page 4 of The Midnight Order (The Thorngray Vampires Duet #1)

Silver

Following the contractor around the yard, I sip my coffee as he gives me all the good news about the house.

At this point, I wonder if leveling it and starting fresh would be a good idea.

“The foundation is solid, but termites are eating the porch, as you likely suspected, when your foot went through it. They’ll be in the walls probably, too.”

“So, add tenting to the list of expenses,” I muse.

He nods, looking at me over the brim of his thin-framed, square glasses. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll do that first, as we’ll want to assess the damage once the place is rid of the little beggars.”

I smirk and sip more of my coffee. I hate that I notice how drab it tastes compared to a latte from Spellbinding Coffee.

I make a mental note to make a trip for some later, tuning out the contractor as he groans on and on about things needing to be done.

“So, these papers are for you, and then…” Something shifts off in the woods behind him.

We’re behind the house, and the forest is thick and overgrown back here, but I don’t miss a streak of white when it moves.

Looking over the contractor’s shoulder, I focus as I swear I see a man in a mask looking back at me.

However, as fast as my brain catches up to what I’m looking at, he’s gone.

“Ma’am? Are you alright? I know it’s a lot of work, but we can do it a little at a time if you need to; there’s no need to get overwhelmed about it,” he says, attempting to soothe me.

I swallow over a growing lump in my throat. “Did you see something in the woods back there? Never mind, you were turned toward me; how could you have… I’m sorry. I had a long night, and I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

I give him my best smirk as he slowly turns, scanning the tree line, homed in like a hawk, before turning back toward me.

I notice all the color is gone from his face as he removes his glasses and hangs them on the collar of his shirt. “You know, you should get cameras and security installed while you’re at it, being how close you are to?—”

God, not him, too!

“Close to what? Please tell me. Everyone’s mentioned how close this house is to something god awful, but they never tell me what the hell it is.”

He looks at me with a look of concern. “Well, we rarely tell outsiders because they think we’re nuts, but being that you’re going to be living here and so close to it…

” He sighs, looking around as if to shield us from prying ears when we’re the only two on my property.

“Thorngray Manor is just across the woods from you, and you’re probably the closest property to it, to be honest. I told your aunt many times to give up this place and move into town, but she wouldn’t listen. ”

“Dormund women aren’t afraid of anything,” I mutter. I’ve heard her say it a million times before.

He nods, a sad smile playing on his lips. “She was a character. God rest her soul.” He crosses himself, and the show of open faith sends a tickle up my spine. “It was her demise, I’m sure of it.”

My brows tug together. “You think someone from the manor killed her?”

He stiffens, likely because of the bold way I’m speaking about my aunt’s death.

“One can never tell.”

“Did the police investigate that avenue?” I ask him, and he shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

“No one’s going to investigate anything that goes on in this town, honey,” he mutters, leaning closer. “And you’d best not make waves while you’re here. Trust me, the best way to survive Blackmoore is to keep your head down and your opinions to yourself.”

I’d usually scoff, but the way he said it sent fear skidding up my spine like a sack of snakes set loose.

Instantly, the imagery of the bird eating the snake, and how the bird looked at me on my way into town that first day, became vivid in my mind all over again.

“Anyhow,” he says, his tone back to kind and chipper, “I’ll be getting out of your hair. Here are your copies of the estimates, and I’ll call you and let you know when I can get the termite tenting on the books.”

“Thank you,” I say absently, reeling as he wanders off, whistling like the last ten minutes and the eeriest conversation of my life never happened.

City life is feeling worlds away the longer I’m here, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.

“Ms. Dormund!” Karen calls out as she shoves my coffee across the counter.

Smiling brighter than I have in a long time, I sidle up and grab it, letting the warmth seep through my hands.

It’s rainy outside today, and that, along with the temperature, has me chilled to the bone.

“Thank you!” I tell her.

“Most welcome. I’m making a regular out of you yet.”

“You’ve honestly ruined me for other coffee. Just this morning, my usual favorite blend tasted like trash.”

She laughs, and something haunting flutters through her eyes. For a moment, it looks as if she’s sad. Reluctant, even.

But my judge of character is shit lately, and I’m not sleeping well, so I push the idea from my head.

“Is the diner the only restaurant in town where you can get a decent meal?” I ask her, hoping I’m not keeping her from anything pressing, but she’s the only person I know in town.

“No, there are plenty of places to get a bite to eat at. What are you hungry for?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Well, my favorite is Howie’s over on Plum Street. It’s an eclectic menu, so there’s no one thing he’s known for, but anything you try won’t disappoint.”

My ears perk as I nod. “And Plum Street, is which direction?”

She smirks. “Sorry, I’m used to everyone being local. Take a left on Main and then turn right at the light. You’ll see Howie’s down on the left. It’s got a tacky sign out front.”

“Thanks, Karen! I’ll see you around.”

“See you tomorrow,” she says, and I find it odd. However, with the way her coffee tastes, she likely will, so I brush off the comment and brave the weather to get back to the Tahoe.

I follow Karen’s instructions until I find Howie’s. It has a bright red sign out front with chicken-scratch writing on it, as well as the daily specials and the restaurant’s name.

It’s nothing to look at. It sits in a strip of businesses right in the middle. If you weren’t looking for it specifically, you’d miss it.

Usually, those kinds of places in the city have the best food, so my stomach grumbles in anticipation.

Chugging the last of my coffee, I grab my purse and hop out of the Tahoe.

The first thing that strikes me is the server. Her hair is purple, and upwards of five piercings are littered across her face.

She spots me and rushes over, grabbing a menu.

The place is light and open. The only color is the red bar, where a few people are sitting with their food.

“Just one?” she asks.

I nod. “Yup. You can sit me at the bar if you’d like. I’ll be taking my food to go.”

“Introvert. I can dig it,” she replies, dropping my menu down a few seats away from an older gentleman who eyes me like I’m the coming of the Devil to Blackmoore.

“I’m not introverted as much as this town is spooky. The people are weird, and I don’t know anyone.”

She rounds the bar, pulling out her order pad and slapping it down on the counter in front of me. “Tell me about it. I grew up here.”

“Like, what’s his name down at Radio Hut?” I whisper, leaning in as I feel like she’s a kindred spirit.

“Oh, Ed?! I know! Don’t even get me going on the weirdo who owns the nail salon.”

“Hmm, I haven’t been there yet.” I look down at my chipping manicure apprehensively.

“Hah! Look at you. You’re so worried. I was kidding!”

A laugh bubbles out of me, making everyone at the counter look at me as if I’m becoming a problem.

“Sorry,” I lament.

“Don’t apologize to them. They’re old and stuck in their ways. Everyone in this town gets so fucking weird when outsiders blow through.”

“I had gotten that impression, actually.”

“Palpable, huh?”

“Just a touch. Alright, tell me what’s good here.”

“Just about everything. I don’t know how Howie does it, but the menu is fucking amazing.”

The older man scoffs, and the longer we talk, the more annoyed he gets. Finally having had enough of our shit, he stands and tosses cash down on the counter, eyeing us narrowly as he leaves.

The door slams behind him from the wind, and I jump, a wince blanching my face.

“So, that’s Stan. He’s a rip-roaring good time.”

I laugh again, and all the tension I usually have while in town melts.

I haven’t had a good girlfriend in… God; it feels like ages.

Part of me thinks getting excited about having a friend in town is useless because once I flip Aunt Soliel’s house, I’ll be headed back to the city and the firm I left behind.

The other half of me thinks having her to help pass the time might be nice.

“Well, I think I’ll have the Philly cheesesteak wrap,” I announce, and she nods as she writes it down.

“Alright, coming right up.”

I hold my hand before she gets her pad back fully in her apron. “Silver.”

She smirks. “Quite the name, Silver. I’m Nova.”

My chest flutters as I shake her hand, knowing I’m not the only one with an odd name in town.

Pulling into my drive nearly twenty minutes later with my food in tow, I get all my things and balance a root beer in my arm as I dig for the key in the outer pocket of my purse, coming up empty.

Once I get on the porch, I place my food on a weathered side table near the door, next to the rocking chair.

The overhead light flickers, and I look up at it.

Dark had fallen while I waited for my food at Howie’s, and my stomach coils as I dig for the key faster.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. Not now.”

The contractor’s words about the manor across the woods and whoever lives there being above the law are digging at my brain as panic spreads through me.

My heart pounds faster as something rustles in the tree line across the lawn.

Fuck!

“I swear, if I die here…” I whine to myself as my hand brushes the key, finally, as a receipt moves out of the way.

Looking up as I turn to put the key in the lock, I’m struck still, and my eyes land on the same thing I thought I saw earlier.

A man stands among the trees.

He’s eerily still and has a white, partial mask on his face.

He cocks his head at me, likely to see if I’ll give him a reaction, and I turn away.

Quickly, I get the key in the lock, open the door, and leave my food on the porch as I slam the door and lock it.

Rushing for the kitchen phone, I call Officer Hottie up and beg him to check the perimeter of my house.

This time, I’m certain I saw someone.

And now that someone knows that I saw them.