Page 20 of Blood Lovers

Calculating how many days ago I was in Vegas—two—to tell us how long it will take him to track me here—less than four hours—is based on a formula that the Guild uses to estimate his tracking abilities and private transportation options. It also takes into account that whatever he’s using to track me strengthens as my grandma ages—or slips into death, as it may be—and she loses her power.

I nod. “OK. Then one hour should be fine.”

“What if…” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes skyward. Like she’s asking the God who hates me for a favor.

I finish that thought for her, so she doesn’t have to. “What if she’s not dead in an hour?”

Zusi nods reluctantly. “Will you leave?”

My pause is too long.

“Syrsee?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“One. Hour.” She shoots me a stern look. “I’ll be outside.”

When she’s gone, the room is frigid so I go back to my grandma’s bed and sit down, then gently push her long, gray hair out of her eyes. Letting myself imagine her life when she was my age. What she was doing and how she was doing it.

The Guild did not protect her. I am the first Black witch they’ve taken on. I am so, so lucky. I’ve been safe my whole life. But it wasn’t the Guild who kept me from being drained of blood and eaten like food. Not at first. It was my grandma. And I’m not leaving here if she’s still alive. I’m not. I owe her this.

I settle in next to her frail and chilled body, letting out a long, tired sigh, thinking about what will happen next.

I don’t know. I have no idea where I will end up after this. The only thing I do know is that I will probably never see the Guild library again.

“She’s going to give you away, Syrsee.”

My grandma’s weak and croaky voice startles me so bad, I nearly scream as I sit straight up. “Grandma? Grandma, are you awake?”

“Syrsee.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m here, Grandma.” I give her hand a squeeze. “I’m here.”

“She’s going to give you away.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The old feeder. She never liked me. And when I got away, she just grew mean. She haunted me in the dreamwalk. Just like she’s haunting him right now.”

“Him? The vampire?”

“Paul.” My grandma says his name like she knows him intimately. And she does. Or at least she did. “Once upon a time he drank from me.”

I grimace, picturing this.

“He’s so gentle when he drinks. He caresses my face like a lover.”

Oh, God. That’s just gross. “Grandma, I think you’re maybe… delusional. He’s a vampire, remember? He hunts us.”

“Oh, he is.” She nearly moans these words. “Come, granddaughter. Come with me and watch him.”

And then the dreamwalk is back. Three fucking times in one night!

But I don’t have time to think about that, because I’m standing in a new room. A very… prison-like room. And there is a beautiful man sitting on a bed, holding a small girl in his arms.

My grandma whispers in my ear, like she’s afraid he might hear us. “This is Paul.”

Well… her infatuation makes a little bit of sense. Because he is beautiful. There is nothing demon about him. No wings, certainly. Just a very handsome man holding an equally beautiful child in his arms as he sucks on her neck.