Page 183 of The Vampire's Bride

He nods, and his expression turns serious again. “Are you ready?”

I cover my face with the hood of my cloak, and he grabs my arm to guide me.

He pushes the door open and pulls me outside. Blindly, I follow until he stops abruptly. “We’re at the carriage. Lift your foot for the step.”

Quickly, I rush inside and he seals the door shut. Pushing my hood back, I sag forward in the seat, breathing out a sigh of relief. Less than a minute later, the carriage begins to move, and I hear the sound of the horses clopping their hooves along the cobblestone roadway as we make our way through town.

It’s risky to travel during daylight, but I don’t care. We need to catch up to Juliet. Wherever she’s going, I want to make sure she gets there safely. She may not remember our life together, but I do.

I gave her money so she could live however she chooses, but I never anticipated she would leave so quickly to begin her newlife. She wanted me to leave, and I had planned to keep my distance, but I am not prepared to completely abandon her.

Even if she doesn’t want me, it matters not. I want to make sure she is safe. I love her, and I will allow no harm to come to her. Not as long as I draw breath.

It feels like we’ve been traveling for hours when the carriage stops again.

“Val?” Eben says in a low voice. “There’s some trouble up ahead.”

“What is it?” I speak soft enough that hopefully only he can hear me. “What do you see?”

“An abandoned carriage. It looks like it was robbed.”

Worry tightens my chest. “Is it Juliet’s?”

“No, but the damage looks recent.”

My nostrils flare as the smell of fresh blood threads through the air, along with a hint of bitter smelling cologne.

“Looks like bandits killed four people, including the driver,” he says grimly.

Juliet’s scent carries on the wind. She came this way and she cannot be much further ahead. Dread ripples through me. I only hope she is far enough away that she has avoided the trouble these poor souls encountered.

“How long until nightfall?” I ask.

“At least an hour.”

I clench my hands into fists at my sides as panic and anger rush through me. “We must hurry. We need to catch up to Juliet before—”

The reins crack and the carriage lurches forward at high speed.

It feels like an eternity until the carriage finally slows to a stop once more. Eben taps on top of the carriage. “It’s dark enough now, you should be able to come out.”

After having been confined all day, it’s a welcome reprieve to open the door and step out into the cool evening air. Only the barest hint of light is visible to the west as the sun descends beneath the horizon.

Sitting on the bench beside Eben, he snaps the reins and we start forward again. It isn’t long before we see an inn up ahead, at a crossroads. “There.” Eben points. “That’s Juliet’s carriage.”

I tip my head up, inhaling deeply to draw more of her scent into my lungs, but suddenly still when another smell hits my nostrils. Iron with a hint of that terrible cologne I smelled when we found the carriage that had been hit by bandits.

Eben must catch it at the same time I do, because he turns to me. “They’re here too.”

My heart stops. “Juliet,” I murmur as panic rushes through me. Spreading my wings, I shoot off into the sky, heading straight for the inn.

When I reach it, I quickly locate the men. There are four of them in total, each of them reeking of the blood of their victims and the stench of their bitter cologne. Staring in through an uncovered window from behind the bar, I see them sitting around a table near the fire. The first floor of this establishment serves as a tavern, but there are very few patrons here this evening.

Juliet’s delicate scent touches my nostrils and I turn my gaze to the stairs. She must already be in her room. Thankfully, I don’t detect any hint of her fear smell, and I hear no signs of distress.

The innkeeper on the other hand appears rather nervous, his eyes flitting back and forth to the axe hidden behind the bar, near his feet, and the four bandits.

A young boy about fourteen or fifteen years old comes up beside him—a much younger version of the graying innkeeper. Perhaps it’s his son.

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