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“It won’t matter.” He sounds absolutely confident.
“Fine, but you still need to know so you aren’t walking in blind. I’m not a vampire, but my grandfather Vlad is. So are the rest of my family, so you’re whole,” I wave a hand, “Famine thing shouldn’t be a problem. They don’t get hungry or eat food.”
“But never forget the most important rule.” I wave a finger in his face. “Never let him bite you or accept an offer of a blood oath from him.”
He nods, not looking a bit phased. “Got it. Vampires. Don’t accept blood oaths. Anything else I should know?”
“I’m serious. No blood oaths. Even if he tries to phrase it in friendly terms, like it’s just an easy exchange. He’ll try to trap you so he can enslave you forever.”
He nods again. “No oaths or promises of any kind.”
I breathe out. “Vlad and all of my uncles are serious dicks. Don’t trust any of them or tell them where you come from.”
He nods, and again, I’m a little taken aback at how easily he’s taking in all this information. I’ve spent my whole life terrified to open up to anyone or bring them into my dangerous life, but to this guy, it feels like it’s just another walk in the park on a sunny afternoon.
His confidence and lack of fear make me feel a little less terrified as Sabra pulls onto the long stretch of driveway leading into Vlad’s estate.
I ran away, and I’ve never known Vlad to be lenient when somebody breaks his rules. He was born in the Middle Ages. His namesake, the historic Vlad Dracul Tepes, got his reputation from spearing his enemy’s bodies on spikes while they were still alive so they died gruesome deaths and drenched the fields in the blood of the armies he conquered.
“Let’s go around back,” I tell Sabra, my chest tight with tension as we come up to the front gate.
Sabra nods, but as she starts to turn, the front gate opens, and Vlad is standing right there waiting for us.
“Shit,” I hiss out.
Layden reaches forward from the back seat and squeezes my shoulder. “He cannot hurt you. I am here.”
His gentle assurance makes my chest squeeze for an entirely different reason. I never should have brought him to this shark pool. He’s too kind. Too good.
But I’m not. I’m bad and selfish, and I always have been. I reach out for what feels good in the moment and don’t think about consequences until it’s far too late.
I spin around, wanting to shove Layden out the back door and tell him to run, but Sabra’s already pulling to a stop in front of Vlad.
Layden reaches for his door but fumbles around, not knowing where the handle is. I take the opportunity to jump out of the car so I can try to calm Vlad’s temper before he explodes and takes it out on the stranger who’s appeared at his gate.
Sabra steps out with me and walks around to help Layden out while I brace myself in front of my grandfather. I want to turn around and tell her to stop. To wait.
But to my surprise, Vlad smiles at me and holds out his arms. “The prodigal granddaughter has returned. I trust you enjoyed sowing your wild oats, child?”
“I—Uh, I—” I stutter, not knowing what to make of this reception.
He pulls me in for an embrace. “And who is this you’ve brought back to me? Two little mice run away, and three come back?” His voice sends a chill down my spine.
Sabra opens the door for Layden, and I watch Vlad’s hungry eyes fall on him. His nostrils flare as he inhales, and a crease appears on his forehead. Can he smell that Layden isn’t human? Does he know what he is? Has he run into Layden’s kind before?
Nothing else shows on Vlad’s face as he shoots a welcoming, only slightly creepy grin Layden’s way. “And who might we have the honor of welcoming into our home? My sweet granddaughter does not bring home strays often.”
I’m suddenly very glad that Layden is wearing the farmer’s bulky jacket, even though I see Vlad eyeing his wardrobe distastefully. Vlad once told me you can tell everything about a person’s wealth in the first five seconds of meeting them—from the tailoring of their clothes and how worn their shoes are to the cut of their hair and the scent of their cologne.
Layden might look like a peasant relation, but I’m just glad his wing stumps only bulge slightly and might be seen as merely an odd lay of the jacket’s construction. I make a note to buy him a lot of bulky outerwear. At least it’s winter. But what about summer? What will we do to hide his stumps, then?
Then I realize how presumptuous it is to imagine that he’ll still be here in summer.
“I’m happy to be here, sir,” Layden says, eyeing Vlad warily. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“How did you and my dear Phoenix come to know one another? Sabra told me some, but I love to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”
My gaze shoots to Sabra, but she’s busy thumbing through something on her phone. I frown. Just how much did she tell him about what she found when she got to the cabin? I feel guilty the moment I second-guess her intentions. She would never sell me out. She’s been my best friend forever and the only person I trust in the world… At the same time, I don’t think I’m going to share any more of what Layden’s told me about where he’s from if I can help it. She just knows he’s cursed. She and I might love one another like sisters, but he’s nothing to her.
