Page 63 of The Baritone's Rival

“I’ll follow behind, then. You can’t stop me from coming in after you.”

“Trent, please. I…I have to do this for myself.”

Trent crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything.

“So much of this is my fault,” Oscar said. Trent hated the sorrow that crept into Oscar’s eyes.

“I shouldn’t have assumed Elliott was dead,” Oscar continued. “I should have known he would stick around the city, that he would still be capable of doing evil. If I hadn’t been so concerned with myself, those vampires wouldn’t have attacked you, and you wouldn’t have come so close to death.”

Trent reached both hands out to grab Oscar’s, squeezing tightly.

“Then you never would have known I was your mate.”

A small but honest smile spread across Oscar’s face. He nodded.

“Thank you, but…I have to do this on my own.”

“Okay.” Trent’s stomach churned with anxiety even as he capitulated. Was this what loving someone was like? Making these compromises?

Love? Was that what this was? Had Oscar gone from his rival to his love so quickly?

Trent pushed the thought away. There wasn’t the time for that.

“But call me if you need me. Promise.”

Oscar frowned for a moment, but ultimately nodded.

“I promise.”

Chapter 21

Oscar

The neighborhood was eerily quiet as the vampires assembled across from the covenhouse in Canarsie. There were seven of them: Oscar, Lillian, and Freddie, of course, and then four newer additions to the Grosvenor coven. The two brothers, Alan and Pip, had come over from London a few months after Freddie and Lillian had. They spoke with Geordie accents, which Oscar loved, and they dressed like they’d been following the Ramones around for a decade. They looked nearly identical, even though Alan was a few years older. If Pip didn’t have a septum ring, Oscar would have trouble telling the two apart.

The other two vamps were Veronica and Kyle, and they wereactualfighters. Before they’d been turned, they’d won bouts as professional kickboxers, which meant they had a better knowledge of combat than most vamps, who tended to rely on their claws and brute strength. Veronica and Kyle were married and had an easy, sarcastic rapport, no matter what they were doing. That included kicking ass.

“Not a fuckin’ thing happening here.” Pip walked into the street toward the old church.

“Be careful,” Lillian called out in a gruff monotone. “We can’t know if they’ve laid a trap for us.”

“Only one way to find out,” Alan said as he followed his brother. Veronica and Kyle looked at each other and grinned, then took off as well.

“Will they ever grow up?” Lillian asked.

“Give it a century or so,” Freddie answered, then turned to Oscar. “Stay close to Lillian.”

The three crossed the street as Pip kicked down the front door. The lock snapped easily. The vampires piled into the old church.

It was empty.

Rows and rows of empty wooden pews. Most of the Christian paraphernalia had been removed, but the seating and the shape of the room gave away its ecclesiastical purpose. As did the small stained-glass windows—the two at the front, and two more at the back. Being inside a city block, it didn’t have the same real estate for grand depictions of saints and the like, but every window was filled with colored, opaque glass.

“Were they ever here?” Oscar asked Lillian. “Even the scents are muted.”

Lillian shook her head. “It makes no sense.”

“Lillian and Oscar, you take the basement,” Freddie ordered. “Alan and Pip, investigate the vestibule and choir loft. I’ll look at the chambers behind the old sanctuary.”

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