Page 5

Chapter 4

Rolf

R olf blew on the embers, and the fire roared to life with each breath. The flames crackled and leaped in front of his face, and he sniffled a few times as his nose thawed.

The woman was lying. Never had he ever met a worse liar. Not even the highwaymen were this transparent.

The only part he knew to be true was that she had walked for days. Why she was walking, he’d ask her later. But until then, where else was she supposed to go? She would freeze lest he provide her some reprieve. Besides, if what she said had any inkling of truth and the vagrants were back, despite how hard he’d worked to keep them away from his woods—yes, his woods—then he didn’t want anyone out there in this storm with a chance of running into them. But something told him the highwaymen should be the ones afraid of running into her.

And she should be afraid of me.

She emanated a wariness that his baser senses felt, and as the storm raged outside, he knew the chances of her getting out of here, down the mountains, and to the village before the snow got too thick for anyone to move lessened by the hour. It was one of the reasons he had ended up here, in these mountains, in these woods. He’d fled into the most unforgiving part of the country, where ancient fae used to roam, wishing he could fade into the folklore instead of being hunted down wherever he went.

Fuck.

He didn’t want anyone here; it was the whole reason why he chose to live here in the first place. But if she was going to be stuck here, he figured he should know who he was sharing his shelter with.

The woman cleared her throat, and it shook him from his thoughts.

“I thought, perhaps, that I could weather the storm here?” she asked, impatiently tapping her foot.The floor creaked beneath her shifting weight, and he wondered how long he could draw this out. Would she break down and tell him what he needed to hear if he pretended not to listen to her?

Rolf shoved another log onto the fire, watching as the bark sparked and the flames licked the wood’s crevices, and then stood up slowly.Grunting, he turned to the beautiful stranger.

“I don’t see that there’s much of a choice.” He jerked his chin toward the window. Despite the sun rising on the horizon, the storm clouds kept the world blanketed within their depths.

She nodded, swaying slightly. Her eyes fluttered, trying to close despite her efforts to focus on him. Rolf stepped forward and grabbed her arms to help her balance. Her hair came undone with the jerky motions of her body, and the scent of amber and petrichor enveloped him. A part growl, part hum started deep in his chest as he inhaled her scent once more. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and then he was lost within the icy blue of her stare, tumbling deep into the cool depths of her gaze.

Danger! Danger! the voice in the back of his head screamed. He wanted to ignore it and stare at her for the rest of the evening. When was the last time he had met a woman so captivating and dangerous and secretive and…

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that’s when he finally saw the tops of her ears.

His breath hitched, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. Vampire.

He had been right; she wasn’t human, but the lack of sharp points at the tips of her ears indicated she was a subset of the fae. One of the powerful undead who fed off others’ blood. The sun would rise soon, and she was still standing, albeit almost delirious, and perhaps that was why she needed a place to rest so desperately.

“You’re freezing,” he rasped, hoping his shock at the revelation of what she was would stay hidden. How in the hell did a vampire find his cabin? He steeled his emotions, locking them up tight. The last thing he needed was a vampire asking him questions—about anything. “Here.”

Ever the gentleman, Rolf guided her to a small chair, placed it near the fire, and helped her sit in it.His code of honor told him that, even though he had a vampire under his roof, she was still a woman in need of shelter, and who was he to force her back outside in these conditions?

“You may stay the night,” he said, reluctance weighing on his shoulders like a bad decision. “But after you are rested, you must leave.”

“Thank you,” she sighed. She sagged into the seat, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Her hands fumbled with the laces of her shoes, but her fingers were stiff. “Do you mind?”

Rolf nodded and knelt to help her untie the boots. He swallowed nervously and tried to calm his heart so she could not tell he was worried about being so near her.

This was the closest he had gotten to one of her kind since he had beheaded two of them with his axe over a decade ago. He had found the pair slowly draining a helpless halfling fae. It had been easy to behead them as they were distracted; otherwise, he would have been dead within moments. Vampires were unnaturally fast and strong, able to use a magic that other fae did not have. He had been so blind with rage, so intent on making sure their heads were wholly separated from their bodies, that he forgot to see where the halfling had gone and if it needed any medical attention. It took him the rest of the day to track down the poor fellow, and by the time he got there, the halfling’s wounds had been so severe that he eventually succumbed to death.

The woman’s fingers grazed his, and her skin was so cold to the touch that he worked even faster to get her feet free. With a tug, the boots slid off, and he placed them near the fire to dry. As he turned around, he saw the woman had slumped against the back of the chair, asleep. Or unconscious. Either way, he was relieved she wasn’t awake anymore.

Mumbling under his breath to the sleeping figure, he said, “I hope you don’t mind, miss. I’m not about to let you freeze. But I can’t let a killer such as yourself be in my home without some form of protection.”

She slumped forward onto his shoulder with a sigh as he scooped her into his arms. He strode to the back corner of his cabin, where a curtain hung from the ceiling. Pushing it aside, he laid her on his bed. Her outer garments were soaked, so he carefully removed her riding pants and jacket, taking care to keep his gaze on the more modest parts of her body.

After all, he was a gentleman, and certain things would not be proper. Even if she were a deadly creature, and could sink her teeth into his neck.

He stood up, and his hand wrapped around his throat as he wondered if the bite of a vampire was painful.

She moaned and curled in on herself, her toes purple. A few thick woolen blankets were hanging off the edge of the bed, so he tucked them around the rest of her body, making sure the thin cotton shift and half corset she still wore weren’t as wet as the other items.

As he stood there, watching her relax under the weight of the blankets, he wondered how long vampires needed to sleep to get their strength back up. And when she woke, would she be strong enough to overtake him? He was unsure how long a vampire needed to sleep, and he had no idea how strong she would be. She was short, to be sure, but the way she had held herself, even delirious and hypothermic, gave him pause.

She’s used to being in charge. He ran his hands through his hair and pulled, wishing he could shake the feeling of regret that he had made the wrong decision. He should have thrown her back out into the snow like the trash her kind was.

Rolf had a few silver chains stashed away under his bed. Quietly, he got down on his knees and swept his arm underneath until he felt the burlap sack graze his fingers. Dragging it out slowly, careful not to make the chains clink, he unwound them and wrapped one strand around the base of the bed and then her ankles. Each time he lifted her foot or the chains clanged, he cringed and froze, watching to see if she woke. But she slept soundly.

Like the dead. He chuckled to himself darkly, but he was relieved that it appeared she was such a sound sleeper.

He slid the remaining chain over her midsection, slipping the fire poker between two links to connect them, and hoped it would hold so he could get some sleep.

Then Rolf pulled the curtain back, grabbed his axe and the large bear fur from the wall, and settled in near the hearth.

* * *

He woke every hour to keep the fire roaring with fresh wood. Each time the vampire sighed in her sleep, he would sit up, his heart pounding in his chest, his hand instinctively reaching for his axe.

After he had settled down on this mountain, he spent decades chasing out the vampires who entered these sacred woods. After a while, they stopped coming, and his life was one of relative peace. It was yet another reason in his long list why he chose to stay here. He was unbothered and enjoyed being alone—no one to hurt, no way to be found.

The muted midday sun cast an otherworldly glow through the storm that raged outside. It still hadn’t stopped, and he guessed there was easily two feet of snow on the ground now. His stomach rumbled, and he chided himself for not filling up his pantry before yesterday. He glanced at his kitchen, curious about what kind of food the woman would eat.

But then his hand drifted to the back of his neck.

Of course.

He would need to get provisions before the door to the root cellar was completely buried. Besides, having a vampire within these walls meant he would need to keep up his strength. He checked the links of the chain around her one last time before he slipped outside.

The root cellar was in an old mine shaft, leftover from when the dwarves ruled these mountains. Toward the end of the tunnel, it had caved in, and the fallen rock shone with remnants of ancient pick strikes. The dwarves were rumored to have been extinct for centuries, but occasionally, when he had a long day in the forest and was trudging home, exhaustion filling his bones, he would see shadows out of the corners of his eye. Rolf liked to think that they fled farther into the mountains, happy to be reclusive and to fade into history as part of the folklore.

He brushed off several feet of snow and yanked the cellar door open, the scent of earth assaulting his nose. His stomach grumbled again, and he eagerly filled a sack with some dried garlic greens, potatoes, carrots, onions, a heel of hard cheese, a handful of dried fruit, and some cured sausage. Stepping back out into the swirling white, he saw that several more inches of snow had almost covered his tracks.

An old rabbit skittered by, his back leg broken. The animal struggled to leap in the snow drifts, seeming almost resigned to its fate. His fur was coated in balls of snow, and he could barely keep his blue eyes open. The snow hare gave one long, lingering look at Rolf, as if begging for mercy.

Just like another blue-eyed creature had, hours before. Rolf took a few lumbering steps and scooped up the exhausted creature, tucking it under his arm.

Rolf reached his cabin and pressed his ear to the door, hoping she was still asleep. He knew going back inside would be futile if she was awake and the restraints had failed. When he was satisfied that she was still asleep, he pushed the door open. The vampire still slept, the chains held, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

After assessing the break in its leg, he put the old rabbit into a makeshift cage and went to work chopping the vegetables. The rabbit thumped and whimpered a few times but calmed as soon as Rolf put a few scraps of food in the cage. Then he proceeded to make a quick pot of stew over the fire. He sliced off some sausage and cheese, careful not to eat it all yet, because only the gods knew how long they would be trapped here.

The woman mewled in her sleep, shaking Rolf from his thoughts. Slowly, he undid the chains and tucked them back under his bed. Then he dragged his chair over to where she slept, wondering what troubled her to make her sleep so restlessly while he whittled a shaft of wood into a sharp point.