Page 24 of Level Up for Love

“Soon,” Antoni interrupts. His expression softens as he glances at Vera before returning his gaze to Moss and Sindra. “Once we make it to Zaska—if we make it to Zaska—we’ll determine how much is safe for you to know. Until then, no more.” Antoni turns on his heel and continues down the rough dirt road.

Their winding journey through the mountains grows so difficult that the party becomes too focused on catching their breath to make idle conversation. From time to time, Antoni pauses to consult his map, and Sindra considers asking him when they’ll finally stop to rest. Even in Moros’s state of constant twilight, it’s obvious when true evening begins to settle in. The shadows cast by the skeletal trees lengthen and darken, and it becomes difficult for Sindra to keep sight of the path ahead. Howls echo eerily through the mountains, and it’s impossible to tell how close they might be. Vera and Lord Gullet, who have been scouting ahead, seemingly materialize from out of the darkness with identical grim expressions creasing their features.

“It’s gone,” she reports.

“Gone? It was here just last week,” Antoni says.

“Come see.”

Sindra follows the others through the trees until she sees it. The charred remains of a wooden hut lie in a crumpled pile against a rock face. The thick smell of smoke fills Sindra’s nose, and Moss swipes her thumb through the ash on one of the broken beams.

“This was very recent,” Moss observes.

Mortimer’s face has gone pale, and he stands very, very still. “Oh gods. Oh Hells—what will we do?” He casts his gaze around the space, as if another shelter will materialize through the trees.

“That’s all right,” Sindra teases good-naturedly, trying for humor. “Moss and I are used to roughing it.” Understatement, really. Since she joined the enclave six years ago, she can count the number of times she’s slept under a roof on one hand.

But she’s met with the tight, worried faces of the Morosians. Tough crowd.

“That’s not the concern,” Antoni says through clenched teeth.

Vera turns a pitying glance on Moss and Sindra. “Surely you’ve heard the tales, right? Vampires can’t enter a residence without an invitation.”

Moss looks stunned. “That actually—that actually works?”

Vera nods. “We’ve identified several safe houses across Moros that we use when we’re traveling, but their numbers are dwindling. This is not the first one we’ve found like this.”

Silence settles around them, interrupted by another high-pitched howl in the distance.

“Well,” Sindra says. “How close is the next shelter?”

Antoni shakes his head. “We’d have to travel through the night, but there’s no guarantee we won’t find it in the same state as this one. And the things that emerge to prowl in the dark—the wolves, the undead hordes…” He shrugs out of his traveling pack and drops it to the ground with a heavy thunk. “Better to take our chances here with a strict watch than try to face the woods at midnight.”

As everyone begins unfurling their bedrolls, Sindra feels Moss’s eyes on her, wide and round with worry. What a day, Sindra thinks, resigned. What a shitty first day. But she’s still eager to prove herself, still eager to gain everyone’s trust enough that they let her help, so she can get the fuck back home. Head resting on her pack, she reaches forward to pat Moss’s shoulder consolingly.

“Don’t worry,” she whispers. “We’ve slept under the stars a million times, Moss.”

Never mind that, even now, the clouds hang too thickly for them to see any twinkling lights. They had determined a fire was too dangerous, too obvious. Darkness smothers them.

“Sleep,” Antoni commands quietly. “I’ll take first watch.”