Then the thought of my throat being torn open sent a rattle through my body. Swallowing, I decided to answer, because if there were a way to survive this, I would.
“No relation,” I told him.
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.” The threat went unspoken.
Is there a mole at the Bureau? I paused, reconsidering my approach. I had no way of knowing what he knew, and it was clearly far more than he should’ve.
“He’s my uncle,” I admitted.
His eyes grabbed mine again, and they looked darker suddenly, with shades of indigo tingeing the wintry swirls. He cocked his head. Another knot tied itself in my stomach; my armor suddenly felt much thinner.
The vampire sighed. Strange, gray ripples curled under his skin, then vanished, reappearing under his eyes. His shoulders shifted, like a massive weight bore down on them.
He looked dimmer, drained. Almost… worn.
His voice carried across the wind. “In that case, I definitely need your help.”
Chapter 5
“Help?”
My mind frantically weighed which option was worse: being held hostage for God knows how long by a vampire—or having my blood drained all over the cliff and my body thrown into the raging ocean below.
The vampire nodded at the redbill, and a low rumble came from the monster’s closed beak.
“We need to move first,” the vampire announced.
I immediately retightened my fists, preparing to lash out. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’d rather starve to death in the wilderness?” He swung me through the air before I could strike him, and then I was staring at the redbill’s wings again. My stomach hadn’t forgotten the last ride on this monster, and it churned in protest. The vampire leapt onto the bill and sat behind me.
The giant bird shifted its weight, and I grabbed fistfuls of long, rough feathers, my ears already ringing. This wasn’t good: I wouldn’t be able to attempt to fight him and stay balanced on the bird at the same time.
“A pitstop is in order, if you don’t mind,” the vampire murmured, in a tone that made it clear that he didn’t care whether I minded or not.
The redbill stretched the tips of its wings straight out and stepped forward toward the edge of the cliff. I held my breath, bracing myself for the drop.
My back collided with the vampire’s chest when the redbill dove over the cliff, dropping, plunging almost straight down.
Then the bird extended its wings and caught a gust of wind, the drop stopping so suddenly that my stomach lurched in a different direction. We flew forward, the roaring speed blinding me. I leaned into the redbill’s back, bracing myself. Snippets of whitecaps darted by below. Clouds dampened my cheeks.
The vampire’s arm around my waist felt like a tree trunk. Strands of my hair blew loose and whipped the sides of my neck. Even if I’d been able to think, I wouldn’t have been able to hear myself.
I squeezed my eyes closed, my muscles rigid. I tried to breathe.
And then it was over.
The air swirled around us when we landed. The beast’s wings stretched, then calmly returned to its ribcage, covering my legs. I released a clump of feathers, wiping the tears streaming across my face from the whipping wind with one hand.
My head still spun, but I searched the location. Now we were in a thickly wooded area. Heavy storm clouds hung above us still, like the ones I’d seen over the cliff. A gravel road cut through the trees ahead. No cars, no people, but I thought I heard a very faint hum of a highway in the distance.
The vampire appeared on the ground to my right. I hadn’t felt or heard him dismount. He pulled his hood over his head and adjusted the sleeves of his tattered white linen shirt. The shadows under his skin rippled up his neck and toward his cheekbones, now almost as dark as the clouds.
“Do not move,” he said. His eyes cut through me. “I’ll be back momentarily.”
He strode down the gravel path, which led to a sagging old motel partially obscured by trees. Orange paint peeled from the few room doors I could make out through the branches. There was a logo on the glass of a window: “Woodland Lodge.” A flickering neon sign hung below the words. Vacancy.
I glanced back to where he’d been, but the vampire had vanished. Silence sank in around me… and the redbill.
The bird seemed entirely unaware of my presence. It preened its chest, grumbling slightly. I looked down. My left hand was still buried in its feathers. I slowly released them, holding my breath. The last thing I needed was to piss off a bloodsucking demon stork.
A cricket chirped. I glanced around. Um… okay. Just… hanging out with a redbill.
I spotted the vampire again. He’d already reached the motel, which seemed too far away for that to be possible. He walked through one of the orange doors and immediately closed it behind him.
Run. This is your chance. He couldn’t possibly hear and see me from where I was. I can get to the highway.
I slowly pulled my right leg up, my eyes glued to the back of the redbill’s head. Easy. Easy.
Just as I’d almost gotten my right foot over the bird’s spine, its head jolted up toward my leg, its broadsword of a beak releasing a rasping groan. Its eye caught mine for the first time: a massive black pupil encircled by a deep crimson iris. It did not blink.
I froze. Our staring contest held as my heartbeat hammered in my ears. The monster clacked its beak. I could see that the inner edge was serrated, like the world’s biggest carving knife.
It was almost like I could… feel… the vampire’s voice echoing inside me. Do not move.
I released a breath but held my right leg still, refusing to fully remount the beast.
Then the bird growled, tossed its wings, and snapped its beak twice, just inches from my left leg. My heart pounded, but I still refused to lower my right leg.
Wait for it to get distracted again and slide off its back… just a few moments. Then roll into the bushes and—
A faint scream sounded from the motel. My head snapped in that direction, searching for movement, and I caught sight of the vampire’s cloaked shape slipping through a tall, open window. He stalked toward us, wiping his chin with the back of his pale hand. He carried a large sack over his shoulder. His eyes never strayed from where the redbill stood.
At first, I noticed that the sack over his shoulder was denim, and then I saw a leather belt wrapped around it. There were shoes dangling from the ends. It wasn’t a sack. It was a person.
The rippling shadows under the vampire’s flesh were now the color of dark smoke. When he reached me, he tossed the body off his shoulder, its weight hitting the soil with a sickening thump. He nudged it with his foot, turning it over, and I saw a man’s face.
Blood covered the man’s shirt from a gaping crevice in his throat. I saw muscle. Then the man twitched violently, and a spurt of blood shot out from the hole, then another—his heart was still beating.
My breath caught in my throat. My God. The smell of iron filled the air.
The redbill leaned down and jabbed the tip of its beak into the mess of the man’s neck. Blood speckled the grass. I heard the bird sucking the blood up through its beak, its throat gurgling as it swallowed.
Vomit threatened the back of my throat, but I forced it back down. My nausea turned to white-hot anger inside my chest. I glared at the vampire. Adrenaline pulsed through my arms. Murderer.
His arm crossed his stomach, his hand pressed against his temple, his eyebrows furrowed. I squinted, confused.
The redbill’s suckling sounds began to slow.
“It’s okay. It’ll pass,” he muttered. I wasn’t sure if it was to himself or me. He turned to the side, facing a tree trunk. He rubbed the nape of his neck as if he’d pulled a muscle. He flinched.
What’s wrong with him? The vampire’s eyes were clenched shut in a wince. He gave a strained exhalation.
After a long moment, his glacial eyes turned to me again. The body on the ground
was stone still. Congealing blood caked the man’s neck and pooled in the surrounding grass.
“You shouldn’t fret over him,” the vampire said finally. His voice was coarse. “Raped three women. Including his sister. Was planning to murder two others.”
I stared. My lip curled from his accusation. I shook my head slowly, eyes burning. “I don’t believe you.”
He sucked in a breath, eyeing me.
Another yell sounded from the motel, this one followed by the shuffling of loud footsteps. More shouting. A door slammed.
The vampire pulled his hood over his forehead. “Time to go.”
I flinched as he wrapped his arm around me, but before I could struggle, the redbill tossed its beak to the side, a squawk caught in its throat. With one immense lunge, we rose over the treetops, the redbill’s wings thundering rhythmically.
The clouds had grown even darker. Lightning broke through the air in the distance. The trees dwindled in size, hundreds of feet below us. The altitude stifled my breathing.
With only the slightest of pauses, the redbill pointed into the storm—and then the roaring wind and speed blinded me again.
Chapter 6
We swooped over a red rockface. Beneath us, the landscape was covered in sand, rocks, and brush. Sharp mountaintops lined the horizon. I had lost sense of time during the flight; it felt like it could’ve been seconds or hours. The clouds were gone, and the sun glared down on the desert below us.
The redbill tossed its wings back to land. I covered my eyes as a burst of sand blew over us from the backdraft, biting my face.
Thud.
The bird screeched, and the piercing sound echoed back from towering rock formations. As I tried to wipe the sand from my eyes and lips, the vampire appeared beside the redbill, patting its neck feathers. Harsh sunlight reflected on the rocks, hurting my eyes as I squinted around. I unclenched my fists and pulled two feathers from between my fingers.
This nightmare just wouldn’t end.
I blinked, and all I could see on the back of my eyelids was that dead man, his gaping throat. The gurgling, suckling sounds filled my head again… and the vampire’s indifference.
“Where are we?” My rasping voice escaped my lips.
“Canyonlands. Utah,” the vampire replied. He held out his palm—an offer to help me down.
My nose filled with the smell of iron again, remembering that man’s blood glistening on the grass.
Don’t let him touch you.
I looked at the vampire’s outstretched hand, then met his leaden, icy gaze. The last thing I wanted was to be any closer to this murderous animal. I stared, unmoving. I wasn’t going to let him tear my throat out.
The vampire didn’t move, either.
Would you rather… sit on a redbill that obeys a vampire, or stand on open terrain next to a redbill and a vampire?
There was no way I could outrun either of them.
“Back up,” I demanded.
He blinked back at me, unmoving.
“Back up,” I snapped.
He pursed his lips and took three short strides backward.
I pulled a leg over and slid down, angling so that my back never turned to him. Our eyes remained locked as my feet hit the sand. My muscles protested, stiff and sore from clinging to the redbill’s back, but I held steady. I didn’t want him to see me stumble.
I stepped to the side to put more space between us, and exhaled.
The vampire continued to stare, stone-faced. My lips parted as I reached for the list of questions that had built up in my head over the journey, but he spoke first.
“I’ll explain everything, I promise.”
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.
He went on, his voice clipped. “We need a place where we won’t be disturbed for a while. Follow me.” He broke our gaze to scan the rocks around us, reminding me of a lion surveying his grassland. He turned toward the tall, thin rocks ahead.
“Keep your head down,” he grunted over his shoulder.
From the corner of my eye I saw something floating through the sky, black against the bright blue. It had a huge wingspan—and a massive beak. Another redbill?
My eyes glanced back to the vampire. He was already making his way up a small incline, his cloak brushing the rocks as he passed. His redbill groaned in its throat, one of its beady eyes locked on me. I flinched, then followed the vampire. The redbill remained where it had landed, scratching its claws under some brush.
I wonder if this is how Stockholm syndrome starts.
We approached a tall line of standing rocks, and I spotted a vertical crevice in the stone. The opening was narrow, a sharp, toothy slice through the rock barely wide enough for the vampire’s shoulders. He slid inside with ease, but I paused when I caught sight of the jagged rock lining the walls of the gap. I released a shaky breath, tucked my arms, and followed him, pivoting around the jutting stone. Just keep going. He would’ve killed you already if he’d wanted to. Just keep an eye on him until you find out what he wants.
I carefully stepped over an exposed root, only taking my eyes off the back of the vampire’s head for a moment. We continued through the passage in silence. Then he turned to his right, and his arms and back tensed. I heard rock crunching against rock, and then he vanished into the stone wall.
I reached the spot and found a small entryway carved into the rock, opening into a totally unlit space. Cool air seeped through the doorway. Bracing myself, I stepped into the dark.
Stone ground on stone behind me—the vampire pushing a rock against the opening. One sliver of light shone on my boots from behind, then disappeared. I froze in the sudden darkness.
And… I’ve just locked myself in a cave with a vampire. I spun around, straining to locate his figure in the blackness, my fists balled and guarding my neck.
“Take my arm.” His voice came from directly in front of me, muffled somewhat by the stone.
“No.” I stepped back.
He sighed. “Fine.” After a pause, I felt cloth brush against my right hand. “Just hold that, then.”
It was the corner of his cloak. I gripped the fabric. It tugged, and I stepped forward through the pitch black. My toe caught on a rock, and I felt the vampire pause as I regained my footing. I still couldn’t see him, but somehow, my mind felt where he was.
I must be delirious.
As we continued—how far, I had no idea—the cooling air calmed me somewhat. Our steps became consistent, rhythmic. My muscles were still rigid from the flight, but the quiet of the cave slowed my racing thoughts. I assumed exhaustion was taking its toll.
My eyes bounced around, but I couldn’t orient myself. With nothing to focus on, I started seeing spots. Don’t faint.
It slowly dawned on me that the spots were actually patches of flickering light—real light. The light slowly intensified, until I could make out stone walls, illuminated by an orange glow.
When my feet became visible, I dropped the vampire’s cloak. I walked a few paces behind him, the ceilings of the passageway growing taller as the light grew brighter.
The ceiling and narrow walls of the passage opened. An expanding cavern spread before our feet, more torches lining the sprawling space. Shadows lurked around the perimeter, but there was enough light for me to make out a group of figures.
Vampires.
My breath caught in my throat. I immediately started counting them, wondering how far I could make it on foot back through the black passageway.
Several were small. Children? Child vampires? Their heads drooped. A female—a mother?—held a small girl with matted hair. A little boy stood beside them. His arm was bound in white cloth, like a cast.
As the creatures saw me, they began murmuring to each other. The mother clutched the little girl to her chest and backed away, urging the boy closer. Two other young vampires gaped at me in the dim light. One covered her little mouth with her hands. The other’s face was heavily bruised. They scuttled away toward
a group of mothers and children. There were at least thirty vampires.
The vaulted stone ceiling heightened their voices and resounded with echoes. A baby started crying. My palms dampened.
“What the hell are you doing?!” A male voice rang out, and several adult vampires separated from the group, advancing on us. The only thing standing between me and their teeth was the vampire who’d just murdered a man in cold blood.
My “guide” held up a hand, but it did nothing to quiet the group.
“Why did you bring that here?” one of the male vampires snapped. His eyes were an icy blue, much like my guide’s.
Behind them, one of the vampire mothers called out. “How could you think this was a good idea, Dorian?”
I finally had a name for him.
I slowly retreated a few paces, my eyes darting over the group. If Dorian couldn’t protect me from this horde he’d dragged me into, I had no chance against so many vampires.
Another pair of vampires appeared, a man and a woman in their early twenties, their eyes dark with worry.
Dorian raised both of his hands now. “She’s not dangerous.”
Excuse you?
Another male vampire, tall and sinewy, tried to brush past Dorian. “Like hell she isn’t,” he growled.
“I need you to trust me, Kane,” Dorian said.
“You would pull something like this.”
Dorian blocked the vampire’s shoulder with his own, his hand gripping the other’s bicep. Their eyes locked, muscles straining as Kane tried to push through—and failed. Instead, he shoved Dorian’s hand away, backing up a step.
“You’re being reckless and selfish. Step aside and I’ll fix your mistake.” Kane’s fangs grew sharper and longer as he spoke, shining in the torchlight, his eyes now fixed on my throat. Ice coursed through my veins. My muscles tensed. I wouldn’t go down without a fight… but I knew how it would end.
“Kane. Enough.” Dorian moved, using his body to block me from Kane’s sight.
He’d found the one circumstance that made me feel almost grateful to have him near me. Almost.
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