Page 10

Chapter 9

Adeline

S he woke, gasping for air and drenched in sweat, and her hands flew to her face. But as she gingerly felt the skin underneath her eyes, her fingertips came away dry. Thankful that her weaknesses were still locked up tight, she felt her shoulders relax.

Adeline hadn’t dreamed of her mother and sister in ages, but, oddly enough, it was the same old dream from when she had been turned: The face her sister had when she shoved her away. The tingling feeling in her arms and legs as she sank into the mud in the center of the stone circle, and how odd the world looked. The hooded figure who followed them to the stones. The sound of rock blasting apart. The sound of her mother screaming her name.

Her hand drifted to her neck, to a phantom throbbing where sharp teeth had punctured her skin for the first time. She took a deep breath, willing the emotions back down until she finally remembered where she was.

Awash in the warm glow of the fire, the cabin felt almost peaceful, and languid shadows filled the nooks and crannies. A thin curtain separated her from the rest of the room, allowing her a modest amount of privacy. The furs scratched at her skin, and she inhaled, the scent of woodsmoke and juniper filling her lungs. She stretched, wishing the ache in her limbs would leave. It felt like it took an eternity for the food to work its way through her system. Her stomach rumbled, and she yearned to feel the warmth of untainted blood running down her throat. But she was in no hurry to repeat the effects from the night before.

The crackle and pop of a log aflame snapped her back into the present. Her head swiveled to the bastard sitting on the chair by the fire. He whittled away at a new piece of wood.

“You,” she snarled and pointed her finger at him. Her nails elongated into sharp, black claws. It took every bit of her willpower not to lunge at him and tear into his neck. She would still be too weak, but damn if it wouldn’t feel good to have him at her mercy. Return the favor, so to speak.

“Good evening,” he said, as calm as ever. It boiled her blood. Gods, she was so tired of being at the behest of males .

Adeline threw the sheets off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You put juniper into that rabbit’s food. For that, I should…”

“Should what?” he asked and tilted his head, exposing the length of his neck. “Bite me?”

Adeline narrowed her eyes. The vein in his neck pulsed, and a shiver coursed down her spine. She may be weak, but not so much that she would do something stupid. What would his blood taste like as she drained the life out of him? Would he fight her? Would he scream? Would his eyes roll in the back of his head from the pleasure or the pain?

He’d had the foresight to feed himself juniper as well as that rabbit. Which meant that he would have eaten more potent quantities, too, no doubt. If she acted on her anger now and sank her teeth into his soft neck, who knows what would happen if she were unable to finish the job?

Damned either way and dependent entirely upon his hospitality, she didn’t move. Adeline curled her fingers into fists, her nails digging into her palms. A drop of blood landed on her calf and trailed down her leg.

His eyes flicked to the red liquid that crept toward her ankle. And then his gaze traveled back up her legs, catching on the hem of her chemise, the laces of her corset, finally tearing his eyes away before it got to her bust. She stifled a self-satisfied smile.

He pointed at her with his whittling knife. “You’re going to stain my floor.”

The blood stopped a hairsbreadth from the wood beneath her feet. Adeline stared daggers at him, refusing to move.

“Apologies,” she hissed. “But I’m not feeling very obedient at the moment.”

He simply pointed at the blood trailing down her leg.

She rolled her eyes and unfurled her fingers to reveal completely healed palms. Adeline stuck her finger in her mouth and wet it. She swiped at the droplet of blood—leaving a deep red stain down her leg. Fully aware of the man’s eyes on her, she straightened. “Better?”

“Thank you. Yes,” he said and focused his eyes back on the stick in his hands. She wanted to reach over there and slap the wood out of his grip, feeling even saltier since he hadn’t answered her question.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to ruin your palatial estate,” she muttered and looked around the simplistic cabin. She took in all of the tiny details she had missed when she was awake. Though sparsely furnished, she had to admit it was fairly comfortable.

What kind of a man would choose to live out here alone? Especially a man that looked like him .

The bed was of high quality, and the bed frame looked hand-carved, as did everything else in his home. She scoffed internally. If she was going to spend most of her time asleep in this man’s presence, she might as well be comfortable. A few herbs were drying above the fire. Ski shoes and woven wicker snowshoes hung on the wall near the front door, to the left of the fireplace, the accompanying poles crossing in the center. A thin rug splayed across the center of the room. It had a few burn holes near the fire from where sparks had landed on it. The fabric was stretched out and lumpy, unraveling in certain areas. It almost reminded her of her home growing up.

Her eyes then traveled back to the enigma of a man in the center of the cabin. The stranger’s mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. Even underneath the thick beard, she could make out a dimple on his left cheek. He had said that she would regret being here in a few days. Who was he to feel like he had to drug her and also warn her?

“Palatial estate? This is one of the nicer places I’ve ever lived,” he said. “Small and humble—nothing like the grandiose castles of vampires and courtiers. But, then again, it’s not like I need much.”

“I think I prefer a place small and humble,” she said, partially to herself.

He gave her an odd look.

“What?” she asked. “I tire of the extravagance. The pomp.”

He grunted in response as if he didn’t believe a single word coming out of her mouth.

Other vampires would have laughed in her face, but the truth was, she loathed high society. The restrictive clothing, the rules, the careful way she had to form her sentences, and even the way she had to stand. Erik had loved it, craved it, wanted to be a part of that world forever. But she never felt like she fit in. Sure, she could hold her own and put on the greatest act, as if she were born and bred from noble blood herself. But she wasn’t, and the only time she had ever felt like she belonged was when she was with Colin.

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

She blinked and was in the past, in a dingy room filled with the dawn’s soft, dappled light. The smell of freshly baked bread filtered through the open windows, as did the shouting of the vendors opening their shops and cafés in the street below. Sheets tangled in their limbs, and Colin’s large hand resting on the dip of her waist. They smelled of sex, and she languished in the strong curve of the body enveloping her before she fell asleep with the sunrise.

Adeline shook her head, pushing the flood of memories away. She didn’t need the distraction of Colin right now, she needed to find the were-shifter and get the hell out of here. She walked to where her leather boots rested by the wardrobe. They shone from the care he had taken to clean them while she slept. Adeline’s clothing lay folded in the open wardrobe with militaristic precision. Her hands fondled the clean wool and the creases in the fabric. What kind of person would clean a vampire’s clothing after drugging them?

“Thank you for…your hospitality?” she said, surprised at how genuine her gratitude sounded. The anger in her chest grew smaller as she looked over her shoulder at the man more intently. What a curious person he was. Feeding her contaminated blood but then polishing her boots and cleaning her clothing while she slept.

“It’s not in my nature to deny anyone, no matter their story, a safe place to rest, to the best of my ability.” The chair squeaked as he shifted to give her privacy to dress. “But I couldn’t let a ravenous vampire into my home without taking certain precautions.”

Adeline nodded, turning back to the wardrobe. If that was the closest she would get to an apology, she’d take it. She tugged the riding pants up her thick thighs, and the wool chafed her skin. As warm as these were, nothing would compare to being properly fueled. She would need a good supply of blood, and soon, if she was to make it down the mountain without succumbing to the elements. Vampires, though notoriously hard to kill, had to be careful about putting themselves in vulnerable positions; freezing like she did before was one of them. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Probably for the best,” she muttered as she buttoned up her trousers. But her hands stalled as she tried to unravel how many days she had lost trapped in the cabin with this woodsman.

“Two nights, three days,” he said over his shoulder. “And the snow hasn’t let up yet. We’re under about five feet already.”

It’s almost as if he can ? —

“And, no, I can’t read your mind, but I figured you’d want to know, seeing as how you threatened having an entire entourage concerned about your whereabouts.”

She tried her hardest not to balk at the man. He certainly read body language well. This was the second time he knew what she was going to say before the words had even formed in her head. There was certainly more to him than he let on, and she still didn’t even know his name.

If she offered up a little morsel more, would he bite?

“Thank you,” Adeline said, reaching for her blouse. She threaded her arms through it and added, “They’re quite used to me being gone. I would be surprised if they came searching at all.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his back still turned toward her. She couldn’t see his face, but something in his tone, the tiny inflection at the end of his question, implied he was nervous.

“Mm,” she hummed. Her fingers buttoned up her collar, fingering the lace at her neck. It was crisp, as if he had starched it, too. Countless questions gnawed away at her resolve, and she found the words leaving her lips before she could stop them. “If you are so afraid of what I am, why go to the trouble to clean my clothes?”

She knew she would pay the price for being so forthright. But instead of a biting remark, her question earned her a chuckle.

And what a sound. Rich and deep, like melted chocolate. It washed over the room and knocked into her chest. She rocked backward on her heels from the shock because she hadn’t said anything particularly amusing.

And still…

She wanted to hear it again. The way the sound caressed her spine, turning her stomach with a flutter—when was the last time she had heard someone laugh like that?

It had been a century ago, back in the small room she had rented, with his arms around her. Her head rested on his shoulder. She had mentioned something offhand, sardonic, but he had laughed like she was the cleverest creature he had ever been with. He even said as much. She knew right then that she would love him until the end of his mortal days, and it broke her heart.

Later that evening, when she woke, he was gone. And her life had never been the same since.

It can’t be, she thought.

Adeline took a few steps, fingering her shirt cuffs, and leaned forward. The closer she got to him, the more her pulse quickened. She inhaled his scent again. It was muskier now but still there, hidden beneath layers of fresh-cut pine and woodsmoke.

Oud and tobacco, worn leather and parchment. It was a combination she would never forget, and it was woven into the furthest cavity of her cold, dead heart. The one time she had genuinely thought she could leave her past behind, turn over a new leaf, and live among mortals had been because of her love for a human.

Colin.

The scent of him was locked so deep within the sealed-off parts of her soul that even thinking his name made her hands tremble.

Can it be?

As if moved by a specter, her hand reached out and touched the stranger on his shoulder. Before she could get the words out of her mouth, he had her pinned against the wall by her neck. She grappled with his large wrists, but something kept her from fighting back. Though she should have been scared, his astonishing deftness did the exact opposite. As did his show of strength. Her feet weren’t touching the ground, but he held her aloft as if she were as light as a feather.

His face mere inches from hers, he growled at her, “What’re you doing, vampire?”

“I—” she choked out, and his hand relaxed slightly. Though she was still weak, she knew she could get free if she wanted to. She also knew that he would most likely dismember her before she had the chance to do any real harm. Because he was something more than just human. It was in the way his eyes pierced her soul. But she had to know. She watched his face closely for any signs as she asked in a raspy whisper, “Colin?”

A flicker of a shadow crossed his face, so subtle, so fast that she could have dreamt it. But then his forearm twitched.

Perhaps it was the lack of blood going to her head, so she asked it once more.

“Colin?” She refused to look away, hope soaring in her blood for the first time in centuries.

He loosened his grip, but her hands were still latched onto his forearm, and though they were cold, her palms felt like they were burning wherever she touched him.

“My name is Rolf,” he replied. “I know no man by the name of Colin.”

Her entire body sagged, and he let her go. She slid to the floor, her head slumping onto her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Adeline waved her hands limply around the cabin. “You reminded me so much of someone I used to know.”

He sat down across from her, but there was no flicker of recognition in his eyes. How long had she been searching for answers, following dead ends, only to end up here in this cabin, drowning under the snow and the pressure of being trapped here with this alluring and frustrating stranger?

“That juniper must have been stronger than I realized,” he said, grimacing.

At first, she practically kicked herself for thinking he was Colin. There was something so familiar about him, and if her body had been better fueled and rested, maybe she could pinpoint what it was that confused her so.

But she knew, deep down, that no matter how well-fed she was or how rested, she had thought he was Colin because her heart had felt empty for so long. She had longed to find him, and here was someone who vaguely reminded her of the lover she had a century ago. But that would be impossible. Colin was human, and he would have died some twenty or thirty years ago.

No, he was long gone. And she had to be okay with it.

After a century of hope and pushing off the inevitable, she had to let the fantasy of Colin go. The invisible thread that had tried to sew up the gaping wound in her heart began to tug, and Adeline didn’t fight it this time, each stitch feeding into her resolve that not only had she not found Colin, she had not found the were-shifter, either.

Her fate was now entirely out of her hands, and she almost sagged with the relief. Soon, she would no longer feel the ache of missing someone so much that she had to cut him out of her heart to survive the next day.

Now, with her fate in her maker’s hands, maybe she could finally give in to everything she had fought so hard to keep alive for so long. Maybe, given time, what she had with Colin would seem like a fever dream. Just like the memories of her sister, Leda, and her mother, from before she was turned, his face would also become a fuzzy image that she could transpose onto anyone when she felt nostalgic.

The thread snagged, and in her head, she tried to pull the needle through, desperate to put an end to her folly, but it stuck on a familiar emotion—a tiny spark of hope that refused to be snuffed out. Her hand moved to her chest as she tried to rub the ache away. She should have accepted his disappearance long ago.

Instead, she had offered to hunt the were-shifters as a ploy for her to find out what had happened to Colin. And now, what did she have to show for it?

Nothing , you foolhardy ninny.

Her head fell back against the wall, and she groaned, the needle refusing to budge as the urge to talk about him overcame her.

“I have been searching for answers to his disappearance for over a century. He and I had…We had defied all odds just to be together. After the war, we spent a few blissful years together in Salonen. He was injured where I was interning as a nurse?—”

Rolf towered over her, his arms crossed on his chest. He raised a brow and scoffed, cutting her off.

Adeline frowned up at him, not liking the interruption. “It’s not like I was hungry and looking for a constant supply source. I was trying to learn the ways of more modern medicine.”

“And what did you learn? Bloodletting with leeches?” Rolf asked. “You could have just offered up your teeth instead.”

She bared those teeth at him and glared. He quirked a tight smile and held his hands up in surrender.

“I jest,” he said. Rolf squatted in front of her, his eyes lingering on the curve of her neck. They trailed a path along her collarbone, and she watched his face intently. His tone was softer when he said, “Please, continue.”

“I met him as he recovered from his wounds.” Adeline stared into the distance, keenly aware that his gaze was locked on her. “He had this scar that always resembled a spiderweb to me, the way it had knit together as it healed.”

“He was a soldier?” Rolf’s eyes flickered to the wardrobe to her right, staring at the bottom drawers.

Adeline nodded. It didn’t matter to her who or what he was, just that he was hers and she was his. Foolishly, as one does in new love, she thought they could withstand the restraints of immortality, that she would be able to leave all of her killing behind and start over.

What a fool I still am.

Adeline knew better than to so willingly divulge precious information—especially information that could be used against her. Something about this man’s eyes, though, pulled everything out of her. The way his face so openly watched her.

If she didn’t get this out, didn’t share the last of her memories about Colin, the thread would sew her heart up for good. Maybe that’s why she was being so open with Rolf. She was the keeper of Colin, the last one to know him, to cherish him.

“The stairs used to be so painful for him, and despite my size, I am uncannily strong.” She laughed despite the unshed tears that welled in her eyes. Who would remember him once she was gone? She didn’t want Colin’s memory to fade into the ether when her coven came to return her to Erik. “He would insist that he could climb them himself, and so I’d let him, knowing that he’d make it up the first three and then get frustrated. He would pretend he had forgotten something back in the infirmary and turn around. All so he wouldn’t be seen as weak before me.”

“He sounds stubborn,” Rolf said quietly.

Adeline nodded. “That was one of the things I loved about him. We would bicker about the smallest things, inconsequential tidbits that ultimately meant nothing, but he knew how to bait me.”

The vein in Rolf’s neck pulsed at double time, and a few beads of sweat lined his forehead. His fingers fiddled with his skin under the collar, and his face had gone pale.

“Are you well?” she asked, reaching for him.

She touched his forearm, and his eyes locked on hers. He swallowed a few times, the muscles in his neck flexing as his throat bobbed up and down, up and down. She stared at the vein, willing herself to stop being so weak. That rabbit he fed her wouldn’t last for much longer. Eventually, she would be forced to go for his neck. And, consequences be damned, she’d have to stomach the effects of the juniper, too.

“Yes,” Rolf rasped. He swallowed thickly and stood abruptly—his face ashen, as if he had seen a specter. “I think I just need some fresh air.”

A rush of cold air blew the hair from her face when he opened the door and stepped through. It carried that unmistakable scent—she closed her eyes and inhaled, but her senses were still so muddled from the rabbit she could barely make out that there was something underneath Rolf’s woodsy sweat and oud. Something else she couldn’t put her finger on.

This is no ordinary man .

He stepped onto the porch, and Adeline’s jaw dropped at the wall of white stacked up outside. Only a few inches left between the bottom of the roof and the top of the falling snow—closer to seven feet had fallen in three days, and still more fell from the sky.

She knew from her searches in libraries across the continent that storms like this were rare, sometimes only occurring every five hundred years. It was unheard of, however, for them to happen at such an alarming rate.

Unheard of, but not impossible.

Immortality was never without its surprises, and there wasn’t much left to shock her anymore.

Except for what had transpired over the last few days.

The coincidences were too uncanny for her liking: her horse dying on the pass as she made her way to the last known location of a were-shifter. The only shelter she had found was with a stranger who lived alone. He also knew the secret lore of her kind.

And then there was her coven.

Adeline knew that even if the snow was deeper than a full-grown man outside, they would still come. Erik would do whatever was within his ability to make sure she paid for her insolence and upheld her end of the bargain. And as the time of the hunter’s moon came closer, her time was running out.

The walls felt like they were closing in. It was all a bit too much, even for her. It was becoming clearer with each log that burned down in the fireplace that the longer she was stuck here, the worse her situation—and Rolf’s—would become.

She closed her eyes, fighting against the urge to pounce on him and tear into his pulsing veins as soon as he walked through that door.

I’m getting desperate.

Even after his so-called hospitality, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. A small part of her wanted to leave his cabin peacefully and not add another dead body to her never-ending list.

Get a grip, Adeline.

Resolved to quench her thirst without him, she stood to look for some wine. It was the only thing she could even stand to drink besides blood, and might help clear out the rest of the juniper and garlic she had consumed. She opened the few cupboards near the sink, but there were only dry goods and some root vegetables. The cabin was so sparsely furnished that there was only one other place for her to look.

Her eyes flicked to the wardrobe, then the door, then back to the wardrobe. Maybe he stored wine in there and kept it hidden from her, wanting her to be weak and under his control. After all, he had fed her tainted blood and immobilized her.

He had given her the juniper and garlic-infused blood. But he had cleaned her clothing and polished her boots. He put her paralyzed body in his bed. But he hadn’t tried anything.

Everything he had done was out of a sense of self-preservation, and she admired that. But something was off.

Her eyes flicked to the door Rolf had exited through again, and she licked her lips once more. The wine would only hold her cravings off for a short while. And then she would need blood. Because whether she wanted them to or not, her coven would show up. The deepening snow wouldn’t stop them. Neither could Rolf. Besides, he didn’t deserve to be wrapped up in vampire politics. Even if she tried to convince them he wasn’t worth it, they would delight in spilling his blood. Slowly. Most likely in front of her.

Her stomach twisted at the thought. Why was this man any different?

She stood in front of the wardrobe, intent on the two drawers that Rolf had briefly looked at during their conversation. Instead, she withdrew one of his clean, folded shirts and inhaled the scent at the collar. Her eyes grew wide, and her fangs came in as she drifted down to the drawers he had glanced at earlier. Her hands touched the brass handle, fingernails elongating to trace the burnished filigree.

He’s hiding something and you know it…

And she was determined to find out what.