Page 5 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

But not until I have answers.

“You follow all of Arion’s orders?” I take a step to the left, so I can face the fae.

“Only the orders I cannot deny.”

I’m starting to catch on to what he’s not saying—he was ordered to dump me, but he’s not necessarily loyal to Arion.

Could be another trap. But at least I’m not drunk this time, though that throbbing in the back of my head might also be from a hangover.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“Do you feel it?” he answers instead, his gaze going to the sky. But I don’t think he means the fucking clouds.

I turn my senses inward and find a vibrating energy at the back of my neck.

A feeling I haven’t had in a very long time, one I never put thought to until it was absent.

Fae magic.

The gate is already open.

“Where is she?” I repeat and test the boundary of the sun only to get a searing shot of pain up my arm. It’s bright today. Blinding. And the hangover might be making me more vulnerable.

I’m trapped in the fucking sunlight with no way to get to Mouse.

Do not come undone. I can practically hear Damian’s voice in my ears. There is time to fall apart later. Now, you must act.

“Arion wanted the gate opened and your girl was his key,” the fae answers. He grabs the pack and steps out of the canopy of leaves and into a pool of light. His blond hair glitters. He’s even more pale in direct UV, like pure ice held to the sun. Is he Winter Court? Not high ranking. If he was, he’d already be dead. But perhaps just close enough that he may still hold some allegiance to the idea of the court.

“If your only job was to drop me here,” I say, “then why stay?”

“We might be able to help one another.” He tosses me the pack. It drops at my feet. It’s light and lumpy like it’s full of something soft.

I don’t smell gunpowder or metal, so likely not a bomb or some other explosive that would send wooden shrapnel through my body. And the fae may be lacking in power these days, but they aren’t dumb. If they wanted me dead, they could have staked me already instead of making a spectacle in the park in the middle of the day.

Crouching beside the bag, careful of the sunlight just beyond, I pull the zipper back and find a thick black tarp folded inside. I quickly yank it out, unfurl it, pulling it over my head to block out some of the UV light stealing through the tree branches.

Some of the stinging eases.

The fae holds up my cell phone. “Catch,” he says and tosses it to me.

I snatch it from the air and when I activate the screen, I find everything as it should be.

“I’d call someone to come get you. The noon sun fast approaches.” He goes back to his tree and waits.

My options are limited on who to call for help. Can’t call Jimmy. I’m tired of calling the Alpha. I decide on the witch. Bianca picks up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” she asks.

Excellent question.

“Long story. The fae have Jessie and they dumped me in Bramwell Park.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Witch,” I say. “Did you hear me? I need a ride. Now.”

“Bran?”

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