by Tanith Frost
Daniel steps past me to the edge of a rocky cliff and stands silhouetted against that murky glow. “Do you know where we are?”
“Somewhere on the Niagara Escarpment, I guess. I don’t know. They never told me.”
He wrings water from his shirt and looks down. “There’s a lake down there. Or maybe an inlet of a larger one. That’s where the tunnel would end if we’d followed it.”
“Then that’s where they’ll be looking for us. We’d better head the other way.”
We walk through the woods in silence, descending toward a string of streetlights that cuts through the trees. Though I’m close enough to touch, Daniel keeps his arms wrapped around himself, his hands tucked under them.
“Daniel, if there’s anything you want to—”
“We need a car,” he says.
“Right, yeah.”
Neither of us can boost a vehicle, so though I feel like an asshole doing it, I can’t pass up the opportunity when we find that someone has left a rust-spotted Honda running outside of a solitary, poorly lit gas station.
I slip into the driver’s seat, and Daniel collapses into the passenger side. He’s barely got his door shut before I’m pulling out of the parking lot. The heater’s already blasting, as is the radio.
Daniel turns the music off and rests his head against the window. “Morning’s coming.”
“I know.” That means the vampires will have to halt their search, but it also means we can’t keep running much longer. We have to find somewhere to hole up.
“Hang on,” I tell him, and crank the wheel hard to the left. I almost passed the side road with its little sign marked The Hutchinson’s. I’m not about to judge them for the unfortunate punctuation. Not when we may have found privately owned property on a snow-covered road untouched by tires since the last snowfall.
The little cabin at the end of the long driveway sits perched on the edge of a steep drop-off over the water. No lights on, no signs of life. Probably a vacation home. Even if the power’s shut off for the season, it will be better than nothing. Leaving the car here is a risk but no more than it would be to find somewhere else to leave it, especially when we’d then have to walk back. At least we’re well away from the road. I park it, shut the engine off, and turn to Daniel.
“Good enough?”
Daniel takes a long breath and squeezes his eyes closed. He looks like I felt when I was trying to make myself jump without him. “I stabbed him through the heart, Aviva.” The unexpected words come out hard and sharp, but his voice remains flat. “With a broken bone from his dead leg. There was a massive, open wound there. He was practically falling apart.”
“God, Daniel.” I don’t know what else to say.
He stares out through the windshield. “Did you hear what he said to me before you left us?”
I think back. “He? Ack? I couldn’t make it out.”
He shakes his head. “He was saying, leave. Again. No.” The next breath catches in his throat. “He was saying that I was trying to abandon him again. Like I did before.”
I want to interrupt but can’t think of anything to say that would help. He’s talking, though. That’s something.
“I didn’t want to leave him with them, but I couldn’t let him win. So I tried to finish him, but there wasn’t any wood available. When his leg cracked…” He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “It didn’t work. He passed out but was physically still there when I left him. Again.”
His hand twitches as I rest mine on top of it. “None of this was your fault. This was Tempest.”
“They were my crew. My responsibility.” His jaw muscles flex tight as a tear slips from his eye.
“You can let it out,” I say, speaking slowly and cautiously. I am, after all, running the risk of insulting a creature who does a hell of a job of presenting himself to the world as cold and emotionless. I once thought of him that way, myself. “I won’t think less of you. How many times during training did you sit with me through problems that were completely insignificant compared to this?”
He pulls his hand away from mine and opens his door. “We should take a look inside.”
It’s not hard to break in through a kitchen window on the near side of the building. This level is small—just the kitchen and a seating area with linoleum floor and a wood stove. No curtains. But stairs split into a two-storey section of the building, the lower extending down the face of the rocky cliff, the upper over it, both probably offering lovely views of the water.
“I’ll go up and see what the bedroom situation is,” I say. “You take a look downstairs, make sure we’re really alone and aren’t going to run into anything unexpected.”
Things look promising upstairs. Master bedroom, big bed. I haven’t seen a phone anywhere. These people probably don’t bother because they have their cell phones. I guess being able to just call Miranda would have been too easy. I turn the faucet in the bathroom, and the water warms quickly. I splash a little over my face before I turn it off, thankful that our luck is holding, at least for now. Hot water means electricity, which means these people might come out here in the winter. That might mean coats, warm clothes—
The sound of shattering glass downstairs interrupts my investigation and sends me flying back down the stairs, whipping around the corner at top speed and racing down the other flight.
It’s dark down here. If the heavy curtains were open before, Daniel’s already pulled them closed. There’s no one else around. We haven’t been found yet. But the air smells of blood.
There’s a light on in the next room. I find Daniel there, standing next to a table that reminds me too much of the one in Lachlan’s room, covered in cut glass drinkware and an opened bottle of rum. One of the glasses lies shattered over its surface, glittering in the light of the dim lamp on the table. Daniel leans over it, head hung low, apparently oblivious to his bleeding fingers. He rests both hands on the table, holding himself up. His shoulders are shaking.
I’ve never seen him cry openly like this. Didn’t know he still could. A low moan rises from his chest, carrying the pain of his failures and regrets.
The pain of a broken heart that I once thought incapable of cracking.
He knows I’m here. He’s letting me see this. Letting me in. Showing me what he can’t tell me.
I approach slowly, turn out the light, and pick up a dish towel from the shelf next to the little bar. He lets me wrap it around his injured hand. There’s an overstuffed leather sofa just a few steps away. I lead him to it, wrap my arms around his shoulders, and hold him as everything he’s been denying consumes him.
There’s a lot to release. Sunrise is approaching before the storm calms.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“Don’t be.” I pull my fingers through his filthy hair. We both smell like bat shit and pond gunk. “This is how it works. Maybe you’re my weakness. Maybe I’m yours, and you were right when you said I was a bomb that was going to blow up the walls of your fortress. But the thing is, I’m also the person who’s going to be here to help you build them back up afterward, better and stronger. I’ll be here to fight beside you, to face whatever ghosts show up to haunt you.” I lean back against the arm of the couch, pulling him down with me, shifting until we’re resting comfortably with his head on my shoulder, and I tug the blanket from the back of the couch down to cover us. “If I’ve learned anything since I died, it’s that vampires aren’t always right. Strength isn’t just about being able to stand alone. It’s about being able to face reality, about knowing our vulnerabilities and finding the resources we need to get by.”
He sighs. “I really hate that idea.”
“I know. But could you have got out of there alone?”
“No.”
“And neither could I. And whatever’s ahead for us as we try to get the hell out of Tempest’s territory and stop their attack, I know I’m better off with you on my team. If loving you also makes me vulnerable, that’s a trade-off
I’m willing to accept.” I kiss his forehead. “I could go on without you. I just don’t want to. And I don’t only mean that when you’re at your strongest. I want this, too. I want to be here when you need a rescuer or a safety net or a lighthouse to get you back to shore. Understood?”
He nods. “Got it. And thank you.”
A clock ticks somewhere upstairs, measuring out seconds of silence as I fight off sleep. We’re almost safe for the day, but not yet.
“About the glass…” I say.
He shifts, wrapping one arm more tightly around me. “I’d forgotten how to grieve. Nothing would come until I let my anger out. Then it wouldn’t stop. I don’t feel like it ever will.”
“We’re vampires,” I remind him. “We heal quickly. We survive.”
We can scar, though, from our deepest wounds. I don’t need to tell him that. He knows. Only time will tell what will happen here.
A loon calls somewhere in the distance, haunting and lonesome until the cry is picked up by a second. I snuggle deeper into the couch cushions. We didn’t need a bed, anyway.
My fire warms me against the chill of the cabin, moving through my body, combining with the void to heal and soothe me. I feel a little like a werewolf right now, watching over my packmate as he sleeps, tending his wounds, ensuring the safety of all by caring for one.
It may not be natural for a vampire, but it is undeniably who I am now.
And I have no regrets.
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The End
The Immortal Soulless series concludes with Salvation, available now!
Author’s Note
Hello, reader!
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Thank you again for coming along on Aviva’s journey with me. We’re nearly at the end now.
To keep up to date with news on Salvation’s release date, future projects, freebies, sales, and more, visit www.tanithfrost.com and sign up for my newsletter. It’s the best way to keep in touch, and I always love getting replies from readers.
Okay. Brace yourself. We’re almost there.
-Tanith Frost
Acknowledgments
So many people to thank, so little page space…
First, I owe so much gratitude to the readers who read my stories before publication, bringing keen eyes and sharp questions that help make these books the best they can be. Shannon Andrews, Krista Walsh, Laura Fischer, and Kristina Sprague, thank you for braving the pre-edit mess and keeping me on the right path. Your encouragement means so much to me. And thank you to Kathy Dunlavey and Trisha Poole, who were the first to look this one over post-edits and helped me polish it to its current shine.
To my editor, Maggie Morris… I’m still blown away by how well you understand these characters and the story I’m telling. Having you on board means the story that gets published is the one I wanted to tell in its clearest, shiniest form, and I’m so glad to have you on my team. And to Krista Walsh (again!), thank you for your eagle eyes at the proofreading stage. Professional help is always appreciated, and I couldn’t ask for better.
A good story can’t show its face in public without a great cover, and Jessica Allain has done another fantastic job. Thank you!
Thank you to my family for supporting me through the days when depression and anxiety have made it hard for me to keep going, for believing in me, and for encouraging me to pursue this work. You guys are amazing.
About the Author
Tanith Frost drinks too much coffee, plays too much Assassin’s Creed, and spends far too much time looking for papers, her phone, and other items she’s misplaced. In spite of these flaws, she has managed to write some books. This fact frequently surprises her.
You can find her on Facebook and Instagram… sometimes. She’s working on it.
Also by Tanith Frost
The Immortal Soulless Series
Resurrection
Sanctuary
Atonement
Covenant
Temptation
Revelation
Salvation
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for information visit www.tanithfrost.com