“We can probably break it!” Salma moves forward like she’s going to do it. “What are you afraid of—?”
“NO!”
Trevor’s shout makes us all jump. He’s still holding the green book, and his eyes are wide with actual fear.
“Okay, let’s calm down,” says Zach, his voice tight. “It’s probably empty.”
I move closer to Salma. I want to get her out of here before the adrenaline recedes and leaves sadness in its wake. I also really need to use the bathroom and change my pad. “It’s late,” I say, speaking only to her. “Why don’t we—?”
Athumpsound cuts me off, and Zach leaps back, knocking into me. I fall to the floor, scraping my palm on the stone hard enough to draw blood.
“Did that thing just move?” whispers Tiffany as Salma pulls me to my feet.
Zach says, “Let’s just—”
Then the metal lock goes flying as the coffin’s lid blasts open.
Our screams pierce the air as werun.
We’re forced to funnel single file into the tunnel, and Trevor makes it there first, followed by Salma, Zach, and Tiffany. I plunge into the darkness after them, but I feel a sharp tug on my hoodie, like the fabric snagged on something.
I glance back to see where it’s caught—and horror hardens my blood to ice.
I part my lips to scream, but a chilly hand covers my mouth, and I’m dragged back to the basement, then slammed into the wall.
Pain burns in the back of my skull, and as my blurry vision clears, a face swims before me.
The guy is as pale as a corpse. He’s tall, with a mane of black hair that’s wild and unkempt, and he’s dressed in some ridiculous vintage costume. Yet something about his blade-sharp features looks familiar, and my eyes widen—
The teen guy from the portrait.
His hand is a vise across my lips, and I can’t speak. Yet he’s not looking at my face. His gaze is tipped down, transfixed on my bloody hand.
His mouth starts to widen in what looks like a smile…
Until a pair of pointy fangs slides out.
CHAPTER 4william
Blood.
William’s eyes fly open.
Blackness surrounds him.
A hunger like he has never known overwhelms him, as if every atom of his being were writhing in agony. He tries moving his arm, but his elbow collides against something hard.
He is in a box.
Voices go silent, and he realizes there are others out there. Who are they? What do they want?
Starvation makes it hard to think. He sucks in air to study their scents—
Blood.
Its nearness overrides all caution, and William throws open the lid of the box, consequences be damned.
The screaming and clattering reveal he has nothing to fear. He targets the smallest of them—after all, it was her blood that awoke him.
