A few days later Rik was poring over the instructions for the loculum recro and Ben was getting ready for his first chaperone assignment. Ben and Rik had spent time getting the coffin shop ready in town, well, it had mainly been Rik. He’d met with the relevant contractors to get the place spruced up and he’d hired a carpenter to run the place. Ben had only turned up when somebody needed mesmerising.

Ben was getting dressed into a plain black suit for Grace’s date and was reading the instructions for the loculum recro as he did so. Rik had photographed the pages of the grimoire and then compiled the information into a simple list of directions.

“This is absurd!” Ben complained, staring at the list on Rik’s phone.

He’d never seen a more ridiculous set of instructions. He had to construct the coffin with his own hands and nobody was allowed to help him, he then had to dig the dirt himself and shovel it into the coffin — no help from a digger was allowed. Next, he had to bury clear quartz and malachite in the dirt. All of that seemed troublesome enough, but after finding a magic-wielder, as the instructions called them, to spell the contraption, Ben then had to be buried alive in the coffin for one night and day. Only then would the regeneration coffin be ready for use.

“I’m not going to be buried alive,” he fumed, tossing Rik’s phone back to him.

“It’s not as though being buried alive would actually bring about your expiration. Even if you remained down there for weeks you’d just shrivel up and have a little siesta until you were fed a bit of blood,” Rik said, completely unhelpfully.

“A few weeks?” Ben retorted.

“Obviously, I’m merely presenting the worst-case scenario,” Rik said.

“How long will it take me to suffocate down there?”

Rik said as though he were dealing with a petulant child. “You won’t. The coffin is designed to keep you alive it’s hardly going to be able to achieve that by killing you. Regardless of your feelings, those instructions present the only known way to create the loculum recro, so either you cease complaining and get on with it, or you abandon the plan altogether.”

Ben crossed the room to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whiskey. He didn’t even want a whiskey but it was there.“I want that coffin,” he said quietly, watching the copper-coloured liquid fall into the glass. With a potential threat on every new horizon, he would feel a lot more secure if he had a lifeline to fall back on.

“Then you’ll have to follow the instructions and trust that I’ll watch over you and dig you up after the twenty-four hours,” said Rik. “Trussst in meeee,” he sang, doing his best impression of the snake from The Jungle Book.

And therein lay the problem; Ben did not trust Rik. Not that much anyway. He trusted the warlock to whip up or a protection spell or help him fight off an adversary, but letting him bury him six feet beneath the earth was another matter entirely. There was only one person who he trusted with his life and that was Izzy. This situation was a little out of her depth; he needed somebody supernatural to keep vigil and at present Rik was the only option.

Ben came to the conclusion that he didn’t need to worry about that aspect of the process just yet. He didn’t even know how to build a coffin let alone worry about getting buried alive in it. He had more immediate things to think about—Grace.

“We’ll figure this out later. I want to see the carpenter tomorrow evening so make sure he stays late.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled about that. Have a nice date,” Rik said with a wink as Ben sallied out of the room.

Grace took her time coming out of the house. Ben wondered if she was deliberately making him wait to exert some kind of power over him. When she emerged she didn’t even offer him a smile. She approached his car and stared at him through the window. It was over a minute before Ben realised that she was waiting for him to climb out and open the door for her. He got out with a huff and walked around to play chauffeur for her.

“Thank you,” Grace said as she climbed into the vehicle.

“No problem, princess,” Ben said loudly, wanting to be sure that she heard him. He pushed the door closed a little harder than was necessary; it was a combination of not knowing his own strength and his annoyance seeping out. He’d agreed to watch her not act as her servant.

“Your car’s not bad,” she said, her eyes surveying the interior. She seemed to have a way of making compliments sound like insults.

“I’m glad you approve.” Ben had only just got off the driveway and he was already wishing for an end to the night.

“I don’t want it making me look bad,” she added. Not that Ben had asked her for an explanation. He just wanted to get the evening out of the way so he could get back to more important matters, like making himself even more immortal. “Nice to see you put on a half-decent suit as well.”

He glanced over at her to her assess her outfit since she’d already delivered her verdict on his. She’d gone for a pair of striped, wide-leg trousers and a square neck crop top that showed off enough breast to more than titillate her date. Her outfit was casual enough that Ben’s Mercedes was more than sufficient for her.

“If anything you’re making my car look bad,” he said and then chuckled.

Grace was not amused. She spared him a sideways glare and tutted.

“I was just joking about your outfit, don’t get so upset, it’s not like I said I wanted to bang your mother,” he said. His words only made her mood worse.

She pursed her lips and turned her attention to outside the car. After a few seconds, she could no longer resist the urge to say something back. “I was going to say she’s about twice your age but then I remembered you’re a vampire so you're probably pretty ancient.” Her words alone were merely factual, but the tone she coupled them with added a tinge of insult. If only she hadn’t been so wrong he might actually have been offended.

“I’m twenty-six. I was turned a few weeks ago,” he informed her.

Her jaw dropped and she turned back to him. “So, I’m being protected by a baby?”

“Yep,” he said gleefully, enjoying the horror that shadowed her features. “Like your mum said, I probably won’t need to protect you at all. I’m just a precaution. Then again, she is forcing you to marry some guy you’ve never met so maybe she doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

The sour look that oozed through Grace’s gaze was enough to shut Ben up. He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead and wished he hadn’t spoken. When Grace replied her voice was clipped and quiet with just a hint of petulance added in.

“My mum would never force me to do anything. The choice is mine. I only have to meet Kieron and then I get to decide if I want to marry him.”

“Fair enough,” Ben said. “Don’t you think the whole idea of marrying somebody to bring two factions together is a bit outdated though?” It was more than a bit outdated, it was an ancient practice that should’ve been well and truly extinct, but Ben was trying to be more diplomatic with his word choice. He’d caused enough offence it seemed.

Grace shrugged as if it didn’t bother her either way. “Probably, but it’s for my family so I’ll do it. Family is everything.” She finished with an affirming little nod.

“Family is everything,” Ben repeated, thinking about the only family he had left sitting in a care home with barely an idea who his son was. He hadn’t bothered to visit his dad in months. What was the point when his dad hadn’t said anything intelligible for years?

“You don’t agree?” she asked, waspishness threatening to re-invade her voice.

Ben shook his head quickly to dispel any mounting animosity. “I didn’t say that, but this is for your coven, not your family.”

“Covens are tight-knit. I grew up in the Coven. It is family.”

Rik obviously didn’t feel the same way and judging from the way they’d tried to put him on trial and had settled for a simple shunning, Ben couldn’t say that he disagreed with Rik. But he said none of that since the evening with Grace had already gotten off to a bad start. Instead, he said, “If the Coven is your family what does that make David?”

Grace took a moment to consider the question. “The annoying uncle that nobody invites to things,” she said, bursting into giggles. Ben took a moment to appreciate her laughter since it was the first time he’d seen it and then he chuckled along too.

The chosen venue for the date was Frederic’s, a quaint French restaurant in the centre of town. Despite being smack bang in the middle of town, the road it was on was one of the quieter ones which helped maintain the romantic ambience of the place. The cobbled stones outside and the huge arched windows made Ben think of those places in the movies where old people in straw hats sat outside to enjoy a morning coffee.

A dark-haired maitre d greeted them at the door. “Good evening, do you have a reservation?” he asked, looking between the pair and trying to deduce which one of them was going to do the speaking.

“Yes, table for two under the name Mendax,” Grace said. Ben was just wondering where he was supposed to sit at the table for two when Grace answered his silent question. “You can stay at the bar. It won’t be much of a date with a third wheel at the table.”

“Charming,” Ben muttered.

“Kieron can’t know you’re here to protect me either. If the Ringles know that we’re treating them with suspicion it will ruin the whole deal. Mum will be mad and she’ll take it out on Rik.”

“The table will be ready shortly. If you will come with me, I will show you to the bar until the table is ready,” the man said in a noticeably British accent. If Ben had owned an authentic French restaurant, he would have had a French guy on the door at least.

They walked through the busy venue, passing the many diners, as they made their way to the bar that stood on the far side. The bar area was quiet and only two people, a man and woman, were sitting at one end, both of them looking over a pile of papers and talking together. From the way they were being completely left alone by the staff, Ben assumed that they were the owners.

Grace dropped her clutch bag on the bar and hopped up onto a bar stool. “Purple Strongbow please,” she told the barmaid, puzzling both the woman and Ben in the process.

“Do you mean dark fruit flavour?” the barmaid asked, brow creasing in confusion.

Grace flashed her a ridiculous smile and nodded. “Yes. Sorry, that’s what me and my friends always call it.”

The barmaid laughed politely before turning to Ben. “Just a JD and coke please,” he said, keeping it simple.

“You can pay,” Grace told him without even reaching for her bag.

“I’m not even your date,” Ben grumbled, pulling his phone out nonetheless. He tapped the device to the payment machine and the barmaid went off to make the drinks.

“Sit down, you’re making me uneasy,” said Grace. She patted the stool next to her as though she were inviting a dog to jump on the sofa. Still, Ben took the seat without a word of protest. Soon her date would arrive and he’d be left alone at the bar in peace.

“Mother above this place is bigger than last time I was here,” said Grace. She was looking around at all the tables around the restaurant.

“Mother above?” Ben repeated. It was not a saying he was familiar with.

“The Goddess. Mother,” she said as if that cleared everything up.

“Is she some sort of witch goddess? I’ve never heard of her.”

“Yeah, of course. The Mother is the goddess of witches. She gives life to everything.”

“So, you’ve got your own religion?”

Grace took a gulp of her cider before answering. “Since all the other religions have a history of persecuting witches we could hardly believe in them, could we?”

“True,” Ben said with a chuckle.

“Not that we really believe in the Mother and all that.”

“You don’t believe it but you still reference the Mother?”

“Do you say for god’s sake and stuff like that?”

Ben nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Are you a Christian?”

“All right, good point.”

“We were all raised on these stories so they’re ingrained in our minds now even if we don’t believe them. I do believe in something. Just not the whole Mother Goddess thing. Most of my coven don’t believe it, but other witches do. I believe something is responsible for everything that exists, just not the Mother. We still do all the sabbats. Mum says it’s only to uphold the tradition but I know that she believes in something and that’s why we really do all the rituals and that.”

“Like Ostara?” Christine had said that was where the alliance between the two covens would be confirmed.

Grace nodded. “Ostara is a big one. It’s supposed to be the time of year when the Mother wakes up from her Winter slumber and breathes new life into the world.”

“So what is the story of the witch religion then?” Ben asked. He wasn’t just making conversation, he was genuinely interested. If there was one thing he could not resist it was a good story, and whether he believed it or not, the Bible made for one hell of a story. Hopefully, the witch story would be just as good.

Grace took a quick glance at her phone to check for notifications before putting it face back down on the bar. “Okay, so there’s the Goddess and the God, but the Goddess is much more powerful. The Goddess is the Mother of all life and she created all life. Then there’s the God who is Death and he works for her. Every Winter she has a long nap and while she’s napping she sends Death out to harvest life so it can be recycled. Then in Spring she wakes up, puts Death back on his leash, and breathes new life into the world again. The cycle goes round and round and round.”

“That sounds pretty straightforward,” Ben said. “No commandments or Sunday service or anything?”

Grace shook her head quickly and the lights above her made her golden hair shine vibrantly. “Well, we do have the eight sabbats throughout the year. They’re all about honouring the Mother and protecting ourselves from Death. But that’s it. Other than that we can do what we want.”

“What about an afterlife?”

“Same as everything else. Good people get rewarded, bad people get punished.” Grace’s attention had been snared by the owners at the other end of the bar who now seemed to be arguing.

“All I’m saying, “ the woman said hotly. “Is that a stained glass window would throw all kinds of colour over this part of the room. Imagine how that would look at our next Summer wine weekend.”

“And all I’m saying is that the plain window is a third of the price. Not to mention it will match all the other windows we have,” said the man.

As the argument progressed Ben did find himself getting sucked into a completely inconsequential dilemma. By the time the maitre d returned to announce the table was ready, he was eager to find out which window they were going to choose. Luckily, he wasn’t going anywhere, only Grace was.

“Let me know what they decide,” she said cheerily as she was led away to her table.

Ben kept his eyes on her. Her table was only a few feet away so he had a perfect view of her. She sat down facing him and gave him a wave from the table. It took him a few moments to realise that she was not waving but shooing him away. A text came through on his phone. It was from Grace.

Don’t be so obvious. The whole restaurant can see you staring at me.

He looked away in annoyance. She really was an aggravating woman. He wished Kieron all the luck in the world with her, he was going to need it.

What was infinitely more annoying was that the managers left without finalising a window choice which meant Ben was left in the dark as to what style would replace the current one.

Ben finished off his drink and ordered another one immediately. By the time his new drink was poured Kieron had arrived. Kieron did not look at all like Ben had been expecting. Knowing that Kieron was a witch, Ben had been expecting somebody who looked a bit more like a hippy, like Rik with his long hair, baggy clothes, and skinny physique. Kieron was broad with a physique that he clearly worked on, his hair was short and parted to one side neatly. He walked with a modest swagger—humble but secure. Ben smirked at the short-sleeved shirt that was decorated with vibrant palm trees. He personally would not have been caught dead in such a garment, but Kieron somehow pulled it off without looking stupid.

Grace did not stand up to greet him. She simply waved as he arrived. “Hi,” she said simply. Ben might have imagined it but Grace sounded a tad nervous.

“Nice to meet you,” Kieron said politely, smiling warmly and waving back. A thin band of silver encircled his wrist and Ben wondered if it was magical, or perhaps a precaution against vampires.

Kieron sat down and the tedious chit-chat got underway. They spoke about the menu, how their days had been, and then they moved on to a boring review of their drinks—considering he was drinking a Peroni and she had a Strongbow the conversation was doomed to dwindle.

Ben was dismayed to learn that they were having a full three-course meal which meant his evening was going to be far duller than it needed to be. By the time the pair were tucking into their starters he was already bored of them. He considered taking out his phone but then he'd be too distracted to keep an eye on the witches.

“Could I get you something to eat, sir?” a waiter said as he passed by.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, feeling like somebody had just pulled him back from the brink of sleep.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Ben grinned for reasons that the waiter could not possibly understand. “That’s an offer you’d regret making,” Ben told him.

“I’m sorry?” the waiter said, clearly alarmed.

“No, thank you. Dodgy stomach. It’d be a right mess,” Ben said giving his stomach a little pat.

The waiter hurried away quickly, obviously regretting speaking to Ben in the first place.

When Ben turned his attention back to the chatting couple he found that the conversation had moved on to the inevitable “What do you do for a living?”

“Well, I work in my mum’s shop,” Grace said, gesturing ebulliently as she spoke. “It’s like a herbal remedy shop, but obviously it’s all magic. I don’t have to work but I like to earn my own money. I don’t want Mum holding it over me, you know?”

Kieron nodded and smiled as though she’d told him the most riveting thing in the world. “Yeah, I get it. If you take somebody else’s money they can cut you off.”

“Exactly. Not that she ever would. Mumma loves me like a princess.” She smiled sweetly, sticking her tongue between her teeth in a way that was weirdly endearing.

“Ha, ha, it’s easy to see why, you’re sweet,” said Kieron. His cheeks blushed a little.

“Oh, Mother save me,” Ben muttered to himself. He motioned for the bartender to pour him another drink.

“What about you?”

“I’m a chef. My family is pretty poor so I’ve had to work since I was old enough.”

Once again, Ben lost interest in the discussion and turned his attention to the rest of the restaurant. There were so many other diners filling the room that he didn’t really think he needed to be there at all. Nobody would try any funny business in such a crowded venue.

“Why did the menu imply that the monkfish was the main ingredient when clearly it is the sausage and bean stew?” one man was demanding of his wife as if she might know the answer. She just nodded in agreement and carried on picking at her own dinner.

Another man was having an equally unpleasant experience. “I cannot believe that we have to pour our own wine. I shouldn’t have to touch the bottle let alone keep filling up my own glass!”

“I have to say this is the best Camembert I’ve ever had,” said a woman who was enjoying her starter so much that she hadn’t noticed the cheese that was dripping from her bread and landing all over her lap.

Shadows crept over the bar area and snatched Ben’s attention away from the diners. It was like darkness was creeping in around him. A tingle shot down his spine as the little hairs on his arms stood up. Ben looked up at the light overhead but it had returned to its normal brightness and the shadows had cleared. His evening must have been duller than he’d realised if a dimming light had offered him a hint of excitement.

Grace and Kieron were finally onto their main course now which meant the end of the evening was surely only an hour or so away. Unless they decided to go to a bar for drinks after. Ben considered praying to the Mother that didn’t happen.

“It looks like I’ve finally caught you on your own.”

Ben jumped and turned to find that Gideon had sidled up on the stool next to him without him even noticing.

“How the bloody hell did you do that?” Ben demanded, trying to mask his shock. He was supposed to be a fearless vampire, not somebody who jumped when strangers sat next to him.

“I wouldn’t be much of a hunter if I couldn’t creep up on my prey, would I?” Gideon flagged the barmaid and ordered a neat vodka.

“Is that what I am to you, prey?”

Gideon shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure that out. Now that you don’t have your friends around you perhaps we can have a more productive conversation. I find these things are always easier without an audience.”

“I would love to have a chat with you and get you off my back, but now is a terrible time.” He could hardly keep an eye on Grace and have a conversation with Gideon at simultaneously.

Gideon was unmoved. “The world does not wait for the timing to be convenient.” He took a gulp of vodka and relished the feeling as it went down his throat. If Ben had tried that it would have come straight back up. Drinking neat vodka was like tipping back paint-thinner.

“Maybe not, but you’re not the world, are you?” Ben shot back.

“We’re not getting off to a good start. I’ve been more than patient with you, vampire.” He put his drink down and turned his steely eyes on Ben. “But my patience is wearing thin. I want to know what happened here.”

His desire to argue with Gideon was overridden by his need to get the hunter off his back and out of town. Izzy’s advice again came to mind, cooperate.

“If I tell you, you’ll leave?”

“That depends on what you tell me. Convince me that you’re not blood-sucking scum and I’ll vanish like a genie after granting the third wish.”

Nothing would have pleased Ben more to see Gideon getting sucked back into a tiny lamp.

“Okay,” Ben nodded and began telling an edited version of the story. Erin and Aiden had gone on the run to protect him from Darius, the least he could do was protect them from Gideon by not mentioning them whatsoever. “So the vampire responsible for the deaths at the hospital was a guy called Theo. Theodric.”

“Theodric,” Gideon said slowly, committing the name to memory.

“I caught him in the act one night and he attacked me and turned me into a vampire.” Gideon’s eyebrows dipped but he didn’t interrupt. “He forced me to do everything he told me. He was stronger than me and he said even if I did manage to escape he’d come after me with all the force of the Black Veil. Apparently, they’re in charge of all vampires.”

“I know all about the Black Veil,” Gideon said. “Why was he killing all those people in such an obvious way?”

Ben chose his lies carefully. He needed to stick as close to the truth as possible otherwise he’d end up getting caught in the web of his own lies. “He wanted to lure another vampire to town. I don’t know who, just somebody else from the Veil. Somebody older and more powerful than he was.”

“Why?” Gideon hadn’t touched his drink, he was watching Ben and listening intently, totally engrossed in the story.

“He wanted to steal their power for himself.”

“And how the hell was he going to do that?” Gideon said loudly enough to turn several heads. Grace looked over and Ben gave her a quick headshake to assure her that everything was fine.

“He blackmailed Rik into writing and performing a ritual for him.”

“Your warlock friend?’

“Yes.”

Gideon raised a hand to stop Ben from continuing with the story. “Aside from the fact that this ritual sounds preposterous, I don’t understand why he bothered to turn you.”

Ben laughed drily and reached for his drink to buy himself a few seconds in which to think. “I was a backup plan. If anything went wrong he was going to blame the whole thing on me.”

Gideon’s disbelief only grew. “I don’t know who he thought that was going to fool.” He reached for his drink. “Carry on then.”

“Since he was going to kill me and Rik as soon as he had what he wanted, we teamed up and killed him.”

Gideon threw up a hand to silence Ben. He seemed to have difficulty swallowing his drink and it went down with a loud gulp. “You’re telling me that you and that curly-haired warlock managed to take out a Black Veil vampire?”

“We had help.”

“What help?”

“A police officer named Trevor Castling had been hunting Theo for years. He turned up shooting silver and gave us the opportunity we needed. The silver took Theo down and we used an axe to take off his head.” Ben shrugged as if it had been no small feat and not a scenario that had nearly cost him his life.

“This all took place in that house that burned down. That’s where they found the dead cops and more people besides.”

Ben nodded. “Theo had taken over the house. He killed the owners, Castling, and the two cops that were with him. There was another girl Theo had as a prisoner too. We burned the house down to cover any evidence of vampires.”

Gideon rested his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped up on the bar. His face was contorted in consideration and his eyes were fixed on Ben. “This is all very interesting. You’ve given me plenty to think about.”

“The only person I killed was Theo and that was only to stop him from killing me,” Ben said, hoping that his testimony was enough to get Gideon to clear off for good.

“Okay.” Gideon downed the remainder of his drink before hopping off the stool and heading for the door.

“Is that it? Are you going to leave me alone now?” Ben called after him.

“I haven’t decided,” Gideon replied without looking back. The hunter pulled open the door and slipped outside vanishing into the darkness beyond the streetlights.

Ben wondered what would have happened if he’d just tried mesmerising the old man. He assumed that the best hunters in the world would have some kind of defence against mind control.

He turned back to the happy daters to see if they were still having a merry old time only to find that they were both gone.

Ben went into full panic mode. Heat rose up inside him as he stood dumbly staring at the table the pair had previously been sitting at. Their plates remained with just a few scraps of food left on them. Their glasses were empty. If anything odd had happened somebody would have noticed and yet the rest of the diners were going about their evenings like normal. Wherever Grace was, she had gone there willingly.

Her bag had been left behind. It was placed on her chair like it was holding her place until she returned. Ben scanned the restaurant but there was no other sign of her.

Ben strode up to the neighbouring table where a pair of women were comparing their wines. “Where did the woman who was sitting here go?” he demanded, staring right into her eyes and adding a touch of power to force an answer from her.

“That way,” she said pointing to the back of the restaurant. A staff-only door stood ominously behind a tall potted plant. Kieron must have smuggled her out the back door. But how did he get her to go quietly?

“Did he force her to go with him?” Ben asked.

“No. She went first.”

“That doesn’t make sense, why would she…” Ben’s words dwindled to a mumble as the penny dropped and it started to make sense.

He looked over at the back of the room again. The staff door wasn’t the only one there. Right next to it were the doors to the toilets.

The panic and urgency faded as he made his way to the toilets. Instead, a sense of foolishness took hold of him. Most of the diners in the restaurant probably thought he was a nutter now. Not that it mattered.

Ignoring the querying look a nearby diner gave him, Ben eased open the door to the women’s toilets and stepped inside. He immediately heard small breathless moans emitting from the only occupied cubicle in the bathroom. His cheeks flushed with secondhand embarrassment. He could smell the familiar muskiness of the deed that was being performed before he saw the further evidence. The gap beneath the door revealed a set of legs with a pair of jeans crumpled around the ankles. And on the ground nearby was a discarded pair of striped trousers with a crumpled pink thong inside them.

Ben shook his head and returned to the bar as the moans of pleasure rose in volume.

🦇 🦇 🦇

The only thing on Erin’s mind was pain. Constant and unending pain. All day she was left in the hateful rays of the sun, and all night she was tortured with silver. Her torturer fed her blood to stop her from desiccating, but the blood was tainted with silver to keep her weak. Nights ago she’d been stripped of her clothing so the sun had full access to every inch of her flesh. Mia insisted that no part of her should go untouched.

They didn’t even bother keeping her chained up anymore. They knew she was too weak to stand for long enough to escape. She’d tried it two nights ago. She’d managed just two steps before her body gave out on her and she crashed down to the floor. Mia had laughed at her before going back to bed. Mia was especially vicious in her treatment of Erin, anybody would have thought that Erin had personally wronged her.

She lay on the floor of the penthouse enjoying the cool glow of the moonlight. She knew she didn’t have long until her nightly torture resumed. Just until the bedroom door opened and Mia came out.

Darius never took part. He simply sat in the chair and watched. He threw out the occasional question or comment, but he never laid a hand on her. Not since the night he’d first dragged her from her car and brought her back here. Still, Erin knew he was enjoying it. She could see the pleasure behind his eyes. In some ways that made him more dangerous than Mia; at least Erin knew what Mia was capable of, Darius was a complete mystery to her.

Erin stared across the room at Aiden jealously. His catatonic state protected him from physical harm. He stared vacantly ahead and lived entirely in his own little world. How Erin longed to go and join him there, free from the constant physical abuse Mia inflicted on her. Aiden got fed well too.

Darius thought that enough blood might eventually revive him so that they could get more information out of him. Aiden got the good stuff, the pure blood, no tainted blood for him.

A surge of anger shot through Erin. Aiden had given her name up. He was the reason she was here. And yet he was getting the untainted blood and she was poisoned on a nightly basis.

Darius had already fed Aiden tonight. He’d let Aiden finish off his own victim whilst Erin could do nothing but watch hungrily from across the room.

“You’ll have to wait until Mia gets up for your meal, Erin,” Darius had said with a nasty little grin before he headed out. Where he was going she did not know. She probably didn’t want to know either.

“Aiden! Aiden!” Erin whispered as soon as Darius was gone. She got the same reaction as every other night. None whatsoever.

The bedroom door opened and Mia appeared. She leaned on the doorframe wearing nothing but a short, black bathrobe. Her eyes glittered with malice when she looked at Erin.

“There’s no point talking to him. I think his mind has snapped for good,” Mia said. She walked into the room slowly, gazing emotionlessly at Aiden as she passed him. Erin wondered which of Mia’s acts had been the one to finally send Aiden over the edge. “Darius will give up soon and send him on his way.”

Erin lifted her head from the floor, the minor act took more effort than she could afford to use. “I take it you don’t mean he’ll let him go?”

“Aiden confessed to murdering a representative of the Black Veil. His life is over,” said Mia. She grabbed the high-backed chair that Darius usually took for his own and lowered herself into it. She crossed one leg over the other and repositioned the bathrobe over her knees. “I don’t want to continue this game we’ve been playing. I don’t enjoy hurting you, Erin, but I need answers.”

Erin snorted. “You could’ve fooled me.” From the receiving end, it looked an awful lot like Mia was in her element when she was torturing Erin. “Is my life over too? If so then just kill me.”

Mia flicked her head, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be over. Aiden admitted that he killed Theo. Maybe you had a good reason for being involved. Maybe you were coerced.” Mia’s tone was far too soft, far too gentle. Far too false. “I just need to know what happened that night at the house that burned down.”

Erin chuckled and the air passing up her dry throat caused her to cough. “The good cop routine would be more believable if you hadn’t been playing the bad cop for the last three nights.”

Mia’s gaze darkened and the malice returned. “I don’t give a shit about Theo, okay? My father was one of the people who died in Maidstone. His burned body was found in the rubble. I want to know who killed him and why. Tell me that and I’ll convince Darius to go easy on you.”

“Your father?” Erin said. And then the realisation hit her like a bird flying into a window. “Trevor Castling,” she said, unintentionally speaking the words out loud.

“You knew him?” Mia leaned forwards in the chair, no longer carefully refined, she was caught up in the moment, eager for more information.

Erin knew she’d slipped up and she couldn’t just close up now. Now that Mia knew she had information her tactics would only worsen to get it out of her. Erin had inadvertently increased Mia’s determination tenfold.

“He’d been out for revenge ever since you vanished,” Erin told her. A stab of sadness pierced Mia’s eyes. “He absorbed all your research. He was searching for Theo.”

Mia climbed off the chair and fell to her knees in front of Erin. “Tell me what happened. How did he die?”

“Why didn’t you get in touch with him? Why didn’t you tell him where you were? You could have seemed him years of pain.”

Mia grabbed Erin’s head, her grip tight on her hair. “What happened to him?” she said more firmly.

“Promise to let me go and I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” Erin said. She wasn’t a canary, if Mia wanted her to sing then she needed to offer her something first.

Mia shoved Erin’s head away from her with an angry huff. Standing up she looked down at Erin with a dark promise in her gaze. “I’m going to have a shower.” She undid her bathrobe and shrugged it off revealing her unashamed nakedness beneath. Another power play; a tactic to remind Erin who was in control. “When I get back I’ll ask you what happened again. If you don’t tell me I’ll get the toys out.”

Without waiting for a response, Mia walked across the room with deliberate slowness and vanished back into the bedroom.

Erin waited. She waited until she heard the sound of the shower before she moved. Weak as she was, this was her one chance to escape, and she had to take it before Darius got back. She pressed her palms into the floor and dragged herself across the tiles. The marble was smooth beneath her skin but her body ached from torture and blood deprivation. She was spurred on by determination alone. Determination not to end up like Aiden. Her will was strong and she knew that she could endure the torture for decades, centuries maybe, but sooner or later she would snap. It was inevitable.

Finally, after what seemed like an entire nighttime, Erin reached Aiden. If he knew she was there he did not show it. He just stared blankly on. A flicker of guilt arose for what she was about to do, but she dispelled it by reminding herself that Aiden was the reason she was here. He had given up her name. He had subjected her to this treatment.

She took hold of the arm that hung limply at his side and drove her fangs into his flesh. It was the first untainted blood she’d tasted for almost a week and the sensation on her tongue was nothing short of heavenly. Vampire blood was nowhere as good as human blood, so Erin would have to take more to regain the strength she would need to get away. It wasn’t like Aiden really needed it.

Darius had made a terrible mistake in feeding Aiden the good stuff. He’d likely regret that mistake soon enough. All Erin had to do was make sure she didn’t get caught again. She didn’t even want to think about what Mia would do to her after this.

She didn’t stop until she’d drained every drop from Aiden’s veins. When she withdrew his limp body sagged and fell sideways to the ground. His skin was already starting to tighten as the desiccation set in. Desiccation was better than being catatonic.

Erin rose to her feet, enjoying the feeling of strength once again. She wouldn’t be at full power until she got her lips around a human, but it would do for now.

She snatched up Mia’s abandoned bathrobe and wrapped it around her. It was the best alternative to leaving the penthouse naked since she was not going to risk venturing into the bedroom to get clothes.

Then she noticed that the sound of water spraying from the shower had stopped. It had stopped some time ago but she’d been lost in her meal and hadn’t noticed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mia asked. She was back from the bedroom, fully dressed now.

“Leaving, don’t worry, I won’t give your hospitality a bad review on Trip Advisor,” Erin replied, some of her old attitude returning to her. Now she knew who Mia was she knew that she had nothing to fear. Mia was less than half her age and now that the playing field was more levelled, the advantage belonged to Erin.

Erin shot forwards using all the speed she could muster. Mia tried to launch a counter-attack but she wasn’t fast enough. Erin grabbed the younger vampire’s head and twisted it around until she heard the crack of her neck breaking. She wasn’t stupid enough to murder Darius’ lover, but a temporary death would allow her time to escape.

Without waiting around, Erin tore open the door and charged out of the penthouse. The elevator would be too slow so she didn’t even humour that as an escape route. She went straight for the stairwell. She was three floors down when she saw another person. A man in a dark leather jacket was just standing around on the stairs. He could be a random guest or her could be a sentry of Darius’. Either way, she couldn’t risk getting caught. Human or vampire, he had to die.

She lunged at him, trying to catch him off guard. She slammed into him and they both went flying down the stairs. She’d been reaching for his throat but he’d moved at the last minute and she’d been unable to stop the scream from flying out of his mouth.

Doors below opened and a man shouted up. Erin stayed silent and still. The vampire beneath her sported a snapped neck and could say nothing. She heard footsteps making their way up the stairs.

Shit.

She got up and hurried to the nearest door. She pulled it open silently and slipped inside, easing it shut soundlessly behind her. She turned in time to see the elevator doors sliding open. Two vampires stood within, given away by their enlarged pupils.

“What are you doing here?” one of them demanded.

Erin ran without replying. There was another stairwell, she just had to reach it. The vampires came after her. Fingers brushed her hair and snatched at the collar of her bathrobe. The silk tore and she slipped out of it, ignoring the fact that she was now totally naked running through the hotel. The momentary shame was nothing compared to what would happen if she let them catch her.

She pulled open the door only to see three more vampires approaching from the floor below. She’d have to go back up.

Except that wouldn’t work either since even more vampires were coming down. Darius had not been lying when he’d said there were more vampires on the lower floors. He’d brought a militia with him.

Erin backed into the corridor where the two vampires from the elevator had been joined by an entire gang of cohorts. Within seconds she was surrounded by about twenty leering vampires, and none of them looked like they had pleasant intentions.

“Well, well,” Mia said, as the gang parted to let her through. “That was stupid, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not going to stay up there like a pet!” Erin shouted back at her. Anger was the only thing she could wield now. The only slither of power she had left.

A hideous smile snaked onto Mia’s face as her eyes roved over Erin’s body. “You ruined my bathrobe,” she said accusingly. The torn fabric was on the ground nearby. “Darius warned you what would happen if you tried to escape.”

Dread fell over Erin like a black cloud as she remembered Darius’ warning.

“Killing is off the table,” she told the surrounding vampires. “Other than that, hurt her however you like.” With that Mia turned and strutted back to the elevator. “Deliver her back to the penthouse when you’re done.”

The gang of vampires closed in en masse.