The leather tunic encases my torso, its weight on my shoulders feels like a shield surrounding me. A morning breeze catches my long hair, bringing the familiar smell of cabbage and chard from the farmhouse garden. Frances's porch is elevated on a hill, providing Rahlan and I with a view over the grassy fields all the way up to the forest's edge.

Frances points to the dense woodland. "Last I saw Colin, he went that way, sir- I mean lord- sir- lord."

I suppose I was also that nervous when I first met Rahlan. With his sickle sword and black cape, he doesn't present himself as a particularly friendly individual.

Rahlan picks a couple thatch stalks out of the roof. Without a word, he begins down the hill, and I follow at his side.

"Thank you, lord and lady," Frances calls after us.

Rahlan doesn't need my assistance to track down a farmer – I can personally attest to that. I would've preferred to stay in the castle and used his absence as an opportunity to probe for weak spots and plan my route out.

"Why did I have to come with?" I ask. "Wouldn't Julke have been more useful?"

"Traveling through the wilderness without my cute whiny human just wouldn't be the same," he says.

"I don't whine." I fold my arms. "And don't call me cute."

He spins the thatch stalks between his fingers as he walks. "Threading an orchid through your hair is a bizarre choice for someone who wishes to appear coarse."

I fidget with the white flower just above my ear. It was on our path here, and it was too beautiful to ignore.

The grass thins out. Rahlan crouches to inspect the soil. I peer over him. There's a shoeprint.

He snaps the stalks into pieces and plants one at the edge of the print. Taking thoughtful steps onto the soil, he marks the next print with another stalk. I watch from the grass, concerned I may accidentally contaminate the tracks with my own. Soon there's a short piece of thatch at the heel of each of the seven shoeprints.

I scan the soil for anything he may have missed. The man who fled doesn't know about the ravagers. The sooner we find him, the better.

"There's another one here," I say.

Rahlan takes careful steps around the tracks and kneels by the mark I found.

"'Tis not him," he says.

I crouch beside him. "How do you know?"

He points to the edge of the print. "Cracks. 'Tis days old."

He returns to the tracks he marked and places a long piece of thatch between the planted stalks. Snapping the thatch to match the length of Colin's gait, he threads it in his belt for safe keeping.

We stop again at the edge of the forest, and he scans the tree line. His expression sharpens as something grabs his attention.

"What did you find?" I ask.

He steps closer to the bush without taking his eyes off it. "An overlay." Reaching out, he nudges a stalk. It shoots upright – back to its original position. Someone went through here.

He enters the forest, and I follow. We weave our way through the thick brush as he traces the little disturbances in the vegetation. I stay a few steps behind him as to not accidentally disturb the trail.

A pink tack tack flower catches my eye. They get their name from their tendency to stick to both clothes and sheep, making them extra cute.

My eyes jump back to the caped vampire ahead of me. I know who could do with appearing a little less threatening.

He kneels to measure the shoe prints with his piece of thatch. I take the opportunity to attach the tack tack to a loose part of his cape. It needs nothing more than a gentle touch. The cape pulls straight as he stands, and it sticks. He continues forward, oblivious to my scheme.

After a couple hours of tracking through the forest, his cape has been decorated with two lines of pink tack tacks. I think it's beautiful, a nice contrast to his scary fangs and red eyes.

A stick snaps beneath my feet.

"Follow my steps," Rahlan grunts, annoyed at the noise.

The ravagers are only a threat at night, and we're tracking a farmer's son, not a soldier. "Why sneak up on him?" I whisper.

"To subdue him without a scuffle."

"Or we could talk-"

His hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me down to crouch beside him. His serious expression leaves me with no doubt that we've encountered something.

I wait, listening to the sounds of the forest – birds chirping, insects buzzing, and leaves crunching under a boot. Someone is walking nearby, but the brush obscures my vision.

Rahlan points to the ground, signaling for me to stay put before he creeps off through the bushes.

I remain hidden in the vegetation. Another crunch grabs my attention. I finally spot him - a tall man with curly brown hair. It's Colin, just as Francis described him, no more than a few years older than me.

Rahlan's out of my sight, but I have no doubt that he's about to ambush Colin. This is silly. Colin has no sword or bow. He's just a farmer, not a bandit ready to kill anything that moves.

I stand straight, pushing the brittle branches and rustling leaves aside. Dry stalks crack beneath my boots, and I snap twigs to guarantee that Colin notices, hoping to make him think he saw me first. I'm just a farmhand wandering through the forest – the last thing he'd perceive as a threat.

He spins around to face me, drawing a dagger from his belt.

Tearing a bundle of leaves out of my hair, I stumble out the bush. He may have a weapon, but I doubt he'll attack an unarmed woman a head shorter than him. I may not be from his village, but I'm a farmer too, and bloodthirsty men find other occupations.

"Hey," I wave, ignoring his dagger. "I'm Julia."

He relaxes his stance, probably pleased to see the noise didn't come from a vampire.

There's a shift in the shrubs behind him. I need to wrap this up quickly.

"Sweet old man Francis sent me to search for his son in these woods. Have you seen him?" I ask. There's no doubt it's him, but knowing that I've identified him may cause unnecessary agitation.

His eyes narrow, and he keeps his blade drawn. "You tracked me?" His eyes run up and down my frame, reminding me of my vampire leather armor. "Who are you?"

The vampire in the bushes behind him did the tracking, but he doesn't need to know about that right now.

"I traveled to your village with the new vampire Lord," I say, "Everyone is safe at home, and your father is worried about you. Come back with me."

"You're with them!?" He steps back.

Rahlan pounces from behind, grabbing Colin's arm and tackling him to the ground. Colin cries out as Rahlan's fingers dig into his arm, forcing him to release the dagger.

I hurry beside them and quickly pick it up before one of them gets stabbed.

Colin screams again. It must be from fear because Rahlan doesn't appear to be inflicting any injuries.

Rahlan straddles Colin's waist, twisting his arms behind his back and pressing his cheek against the leaves.

"Get off me!" Colin shouts, kicking his legs into the dirt like a child.

"I had this," I say to Rahlan.

Rahlan adjusts his grip on Colin's arms. "Yes, panicked shouting typically precedes abandoning weapons."

Colin's gaze lands on me. "You're one of them!" He shouts as if I have somehow betrayed him. I was trying to avoid this.

The dagger fits perfectly in the small slot on my belt. Maybe Rahlan has become indifferent to me carrying a weapon – inadvertently bringing me one step closer to escaping.

I dig through Colin's bag while he struggles under Rahlan. Colin twists and stretches, turning his head back to try get a view of the vampire pinning him down. The breadsticks in his bag will serve as a pleasant lunch. I take a bite of the garlic flavored treat. It doesn't belong to me, but he's the reason I'm hungry in the forest, and he won't be needing them anymore now that his journey has been cut short.

Colin writhes for a while longer before finally laying still.

"Are you finished?" Rahlan asks.

Colin remains silent, glaring at the dirt.

I take another breadstick. "Do not fear," I say, enjoying my meal, "He only drinks from me." Usually I'd be hesitant to admit that my role is to provide blood, but I'm not the one pinned on the ground this time, and I don't mind sacrificing some pride if it means we can head back sooner.

"Just agree to cooperate and we can be home by sunset," I say, taking another bite. If he keeps wasting time, I'll have eaten all of his delicious breadsticks.

"Okay," he grumbles.

"Try flee, and I won't be so gentle," Rahlan warns.

Colin's arms are released, and Rahlan steps off him.

Colin wobbles to his feet, and Rahlan shoves his arms over his head without giving him a chance to get his bearings. Clamping his fingers around Colin's shirt cuffs, Rahlan's hands press down his long sleeves. With a grunt, Colin keeps his arms up as Rahlan compresses either side of his torso. Pausing at the stomach, Rahlan reaches into Colin's tunic pocket and picks out a small kitchen knife.

Confiscating the knife earns Rahlan another glare from Colin. Using the same pressing motion, he checks Colin's legs and shoes, but there aren't any more weapons.

I take one more breadstick before passing Colin his bag.

Rahlan holds his hand out to me, expecting something.

I offer him the breadstick, but he shakes his head.

With a sigh, I pass him the dagger that I'd mounted to my belt. It would have been useful when on the run.

Rahlan's gaze returns to Colin, and he points in the direction we came. "Move."

Colin hurries forward, and Rahlan and I follow closely behind him. If Colin found me threatening enough to keep his dagger drawn, I doubt he has the fighting capacity to ward off a ravager.

Though I can't blame him for running at the news that a vampire Lord was coming to rule them. At least now he'll be safe in the village with the vampire guard.

Rahlan's battle against three ravagers was hardly a victory – a stalemate may be a more apt description. If a horde attack the village, how could one soldier stop them all?

"Is a single soldier in the village really enough to fight off the ravagers?" I ask.

"A ravager will not pose a threat," Rahlan says.

"But what if there's more than one?"

"They are solitary creatures. Our encounter of three was merely misfortune."

I hope he's right.

The sun hovers above the trees. It's afternoon. We're moving faster now that Rahlan isn't pausing to analyze tracks, hopefully fast enough that we'll be home before sundown.

"What's a ravager?" Colin asks without looking back.

I glance at Rahlan. He doesn't seem interested in answering a human's questions, so I take the opportunity myself. "They're diseased vampires that want more than just our blood." More specifically, they feed on bone marrow, but I think Colin would prefer if I kept that detail to myself.

Colin glances back at me through the corner of his eye. He's either worried or has labeled me as mad.

After a couple more hours of walking with Rahlan's occasional directing, we emerge from the forest. The sunset lights our way back to the farmhouse.

Francis runs out to meet us. Colin perks up at the sight of his father. He probably expected a horde of thirsty vampires, not believing me when I told him that his father was the one who wanted him home.

Francis engulfs him in a hug, holding him tight. "Thank goodness. Thank goodness you're safe." He kisses his son on the forehead. That poor man has a son who fled without him. I couldn't imagine abandoning my family to vampires.

Rahlan continues to the village center, the pattern of pink flowers still decorating his cape. I can't believe he hasn't noticed them yet.

"Thank you, my lord! And thank you, Lady Julia!" Francis shouts after us with his hands together like he's praying.

I smile. It's tempting to scold Colin for assuming I was lying, but I've been walking the whole day and wouldn't mind returning to the castle.

Rahlan helps me up onto Mittens. The cold air creeps in as the sun falls below the horizon over our short trip back to the castle.

Julke spots us from the castle wall, and he calls for the Maksan twins to open the heavy doors for us.

Obscured by shadow, a figure watches from the tower with his arms crossed. It's Keld, seemingly disinterested in our return. That suits me fine. I hope he stays up there.

Stopping at the stable, we climb off Mittens, and Rahlan passes his newly acquired dagger to Julke.

"Sporting a new look, my lord?" Julke smirks.

Rahlan glances at his cape and then at me.

"I think it looks pretty," I say.

"I had the same thought about the glittering trails from the snail I placed on your back," he says.

The what? I spin around and claw at the back of my tunic. It's impossible to see without taking it off, and I can't do that in front of Rahlan's soldiers. I'm forced to resort to rubbing my back against the wooden post supporting the stable's thatch roof.

Rahlan chuckles. "You could be an itchy bear."

I brush off my shoulders just to be sure it's gone. "And you could be a forest fairy."

The guards close the door and return to the tower. Rahlan collects some wood from the pile under the stable, and we head up to the castle keep. This is the last stretch of steps before I can relax.

The moment we get inside, I kick off my boots and collapse across the couch. Lying on my stomach, I turn my head to watch Rahlan pack the fire.

I pick the flower out of my hair and stretch to place it on the small table beside the couch. Maybe tomorrow I'll find a vase somewhere around the keep.

Soon the fire is lit, and Rahlan has hung up his cape and coat.

He stands over me. "Move aside."

"I was here first," I say. The couch is soft, and my muscles aren't in the mood for any more work.

A weight presses on the back of my legs, squashing them into the couch. He decided to sit anyway.

He watches the flames. I fold my arms by my head and close my eyes. It's been a long day.

* * * * * * * *

I'm nudged awake as my body is lifted in a pair of arms. Tucking in my limbs helps retain the heat.

Rahlan carries me to the bedroom and places me on the soft cushions. I curl up into a ball on my side, and the smooth fabric bunches up around me, hugging my frame.

A hand gently nudges me to lay on my back, but I keep the fabric balled up in my fists.

"Arm's up," he says. He moves my arms above my head. The cold air irritates my stomach as he pulls the tunic off. My body wants nothing more than to drift back to sleep. I'm so tired that I could've just slept the whole night on that couch.

I pull the sheet over my chest to keep warm. He straightens my legs and tugs off my stiff leather pants.

The bed sinks under his weight, drawing me up against him. His skin is cool at first, but it slowly warms, allowing me to float back to sleep.

* * * * * * * *

A loud bang wakes me up, and the bed shifts beneath me as Rahlan gets out. I can't see much in the soft moonlight.

The banging returns, and I jump to sit up. Someone is knocking on the door – our bedroom door. Someone is in our living room in the middle of the night.

Rahlan heads to answer it.

"Rahlan?" I whisper. Why is someone else inside the keep at night? Rahlan's sword sits on the desk, far out of his reach if whoever's at the door decides to lunge at him. Wouldn't it be better if that door stayed between it and us?

He glances at me, interpreting the look on my face. "Intruders don't knock."

He opens the door, and candlelight fills the room. A vampire clad in dark wool with a sword at his hip waits by the door – Julke. His gaze jumps to me before quickly returning to Rahlan.

The light reveals that Rahlan didn't bother to change, dressed in only his underwear. I'm in nothing but my underwear. I yank the covers up to my nose. He shouldn't even be in here.

"Lord," Julke begins, "A servant of King Groel has brought an urgent message. He awaits your presence at the gate."

My heart flips. King Groel knows about Rahlan's quest to kill Ivan, and Rahlan left him with the impression that Ivan was dead. With King Groel's connections, he'd be the first to know of a Huntsmen attack – the first to know that Ivan is alive. I'll be forced to follow Rahlan as he hunts my last remaining family – the last connection I have to putting my life back together.

This can't be happening so soon. I'm not ready. We've been here less than a week. I haven't even had time to find a map to Fekby yet.

"What is the message?" Rahlan asks.

I take a deep breath. This is still King Groel's land, and Rahlan's here to act as his hand. This could be a message about anything – a command to ship supplies or tighten defenses. There's no need to panic.

"He claims that he is not to give it to anyone but you, lord," Julke says, "'Tis personal."