Page 52 of The Vampire Debt

That was my mistake.

I trip over a thick tree root protruding out of the ground and go sprawling. The impact steals my breath and my dagger flies from my hand, just out of reach. At least I didn’t lose it in the debris.

A twig snaps above my head and I push myself to my knees. A man looks down at me, my dagger next to his foot. He’s dressed in traditional hunting dress. Polished hunting boots, clean trousers, a fashionable jacket, and gloves. Though he seems to be missing his cap.

Light brown eyes that appear almost amber in color smile down on me. The man’s auburn hair is shaggy and the splattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks give him a youthful appearance.

He squats down so he’s eye level with me and removes his leather gloves. He holds out a hand and grins widely. “Hello, little one, what are you doing out here by yourself? Night is falling.”

I don’t take his hand, having seen no evidence of the horse that should be at his side. He is ridiculously handsome, but if good looks meant someone was trustworthy, I would already be the best of friends with Alaric.

I lunge forward and grab my dagger at his feet and point it at his neck.

“I don’t bite,” he says, ignoring the sharp end and gesturing again for me to take his hand. His smile widens so much that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

We remain in a standoff, then eventually he nods and stands, taking a few steps back holding both hands up.

“I mean you no harm, little one.”

“What do you want?” I ask, well aware that every second I spend dealing with him is a moment lost. The sun is setting far too quickly.

My gaze darts around for his horse. If I could take it… then I could get out of this forest before night and escape Mr. Devereaux.

“It’s all right.” He lists his head to the side. “I am Oliver Wolverick, you may call me Oliver, or Oli if you wish. What might yours be?”

“Clara.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Clara Valmont.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Valmont.”

I snort at being called a lady. One look at me is all it takes for anyone to know that.

He ignores the sound and continues, “I suppose you are looking at me because I’m dressed like a gentleman but I’m out in the middle of the woods at sundown?”

I nod. “For all I know, you are a murderer.”

“I could say the same thing about you. How do I know you won’t slit my pretty throat with that dagger of yours the first chance you get?”

I ignore his question. “Where’s your horse.”

“I don’t need one. I live nearby—what’s your excuse?”

A thought occurs to me—“You’re not a vampire are you?”

He laughs, not a quiet chuckle but a boisterous guffaw. “Demons and saints, no!” he laughs. “I could not be the furthest thing from it.”

I relax slightly at his seeming distaste for it.

The howling from earlier picks up once more, closer now.

“We should go,” I say. “It’s not safe.”

Oliver steps up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t realize I lowered my dagger until just now.

“You need not fear the wolves.” He leans closer and sniffs once as if he’s scenting the air.

I stare dumbly at him. Of course... the howling, his sudden appearance—he’s a shifter. There are none anywhere near my village, so it hadn’t even occurred to me.

“I didn’t realize there were any of your kind this far from the north,” I say.