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Whatever the cause, she’s slower than I expected, giving me plenty of time to reach the Exit sign and smash my hands into the bar in the center. The heavy steel swings wide beneath the pressure, letting in a shaft of sunlight that makes me squint and shield my eyes with my hand as I race up the flight of old stone steps in front of me.
They’re clearly ancient—cracked and sprouting grass and a few baby trees from their fault lines—but they’re solid beneath my feet. I reach the top in seconds and spin to search behind me, but the door has already swung shut.
I stand with my hands on my hips, sucking wind, staring at the portal until I’m positive it’s going to stay closed. Finally, I feel safe listening to the voice in my head, the one assuring me that Janet can’t emerge into the light and that I’m safe.
For now.
But she’s dangerous and clearly has it out for me and Darcy, and maybe Annie and the rest of my family, too. Something is going to have to be done about that woman, something more than casting her out of her clan lands or forbidding her to feed on humans.
Thankfully, my sister’s fiancé is the sheriff. Colin will know what next steps should be taken to ensure Janet doesn’t cause any more trouble for me or the Blackmores. I’ll have to come clean about breaking into the library to tell him what happened, but that’s all right. If he needs to fine me or throw me in a jail cell for a few days as punishment, I’ll gladly take my just desserts in the name of eliminating Janet as a threat.
I’m wondering if they even have a jail around here—the police station is tiny and Colin seems to do most of his work from his office inside the Blackmore estate—when a soft growl cuts through the air behind me.
Every hair on my body lifts and a shiver ripples across my skin as I turn to find a massive lion with a scraggly mane, its ribs showing through its dull coat, watching me with hungry eyes. Behind him, I see faded tents and shabby campers parked in a clearing at the center of a circle of elm trees and realize I must have emerged near the campground I was warned to stay the hell away from. The one that’s supposed to be dangerous for everyone, but especially women who smell like a plateful of bacon with a side of gourmet hot chocolate.
As if confirming that I am indeed delicious, the lion’s jaw drops and a thick, viscous string of drool dribbles from its muzzle.
This time I don’t stop to think or talk things through with my latest potential threat. I turn and sprint toward town as fast as I can, hoping that lion is as exhausted and out of shape as he looks.
If not, there’s no chance I’ll be making it to lunch with Annie.
I’ll be lunch instead.
Chapter Nineteen
Darcy
I bolt upright in bed at ten minutes past noon, dread sucking at my stomach like I’ve swallowed a black hole. Instantly, I know something’s wrong.
What’s more, I know something’s wrong with…her.
Blaire. She’s in trouble.
I try to tell myself the dread dumping into my blood as I toss off the heavy covers and swing my feet to the floor is ridiculous, that I’m only thinking of her because I was just dreaming about her—more cock-punishing dreams that have left me rock hard and fucking annoyed with myself for it—but the feeling lingers after the last of the dream cobwebs have faded away.
Pacing the thick carpet beside my bed, I snatch my cell from the bedside table and shoot off a text to Blaire—Good morning. We should meet and talk strategy for tonight. What’s a good time for you?
I continue to stalk the length of my darkened bedroom, gaining enough speed that I wake Punky, who’s napping at the foot of the bed. Her slitted eyes glitter ominously into mine, demanding to know what the hell I’m up to at such an ungodly hour.
“It’s Blaire. I’m worried,” I murmur, pausing to scratch her between the ears, summoning a husky meow from the sleepy cat. “I wish I could understand you. I bet you’re telling me to relax. She’s under our protection, tucked away in the east wing. Nothing has happened. She probably has her text notifications turned off or is still asleep.”
Punky cocks her head and lets out a more concerned-sounding cat noise that does nothing to ease my fears.
“Right. We’ll try Annie,” I say, thumbs tapping urgently. Hello, Annie. I’m looking for Blaire. Is she with you?
Instantly bubbles appear on the screen and then the last thing I wanted to read, No, she’s not with me. She’s twenty minutes late to meet for lunch and isn’t responding to my texts or calls. I know twenty minutes isn’t really that long, but I’m worried. I have this awful feeling that something bad has happened.
Resuming my pacing, I reply, Same. Where are you? I’ll send a bodyguard team to help you look for her.
Annie gives me the name of the local pub and then asks, Will you text Colin for me? Let him know what’s happening and that I’m going to call Lyle, the deputy on duty at the police station, as soon as we’re done texting?
I promise I will and assure her that Colin and I will both be in touch and down the mountain to meet her as soon as the sun sets in five hours.
Thank you, she replies, but hopefully Blaire and I will be home safe by then.
Right, I agree, even as the star-devouring hole in my stomach assures me that Blaire is in serious trouble, the kind that isn’t wiggled out of in half a day.
I text Colin, dress, and head upstairs, grabbing a bottle of cold blood from the fridge and popping it into the warmer beside the sink. I pace the kitchen, enraged by my inability to step into the daylight in a way I haven’t been in decades.
