Page 28 of Mistletoe

Inside the garrison, patrols were lax. There was a gap between the night shift’s last patrol and the day crew taking the post. Locating the vampire Draven did not require a huge feat of deduction. A high-profile captive would have the heaviest security, and an empty warehouse did not need so many guards.

As he scouted, a silver-haired officer barked out orders to scrambling soldiers. Something about the man, perhaps the very many medals or the air of importance, set Hal’s teeth on edge. He growled, not liking the man one bit.

The officer looked up, as if sensing Hal’s malice.

Hal froze, certain he had been discovered. No shouts came. No one raised the alarm.

He continued on, more cautious now. Perhaps it was a crew spread too thin or complacency in that since the vampire was captured, the job was done, but he found it alarmingly easy to navigate the compound without detection. Sloppy. He’d never allowed such carelessness when he was in charge of security.

The memory of screening passengers as they boarded theEndeavorcame so naturally, so smoothly, that he almost failed to notice. A memory.Hismemory. Not cloudy. Not hazy. A memory of an entitled, wealthy passenger snapping her fingers at him arrived crystal clear. He could feel the weight of the security uniform with the too-tight collar at his throat. The temperatures had been unusually warm for that time of the year, and the winter-weight uniform jacket was soaked with sweat. Everyone’s tempers were frayed, so his reaction was understandable?—

As suddenly as it came, it vanished. Hal had no idea what happened next but he recognized the burning anger it evoked. Past Hal had a temper. So did Current Hal, but he also had a narrow window to climb through and could not afford to reminisce.

Windows were built high on the warehouse walls near the eaves to maximize natural light. No building Hal had encountered thus far had electricity. He didn’t imagine a warehouse would be an exception. Plus, the opportunity to humiliate an infamous vampire by threatening him with sunlight had to be irresistible.

The high window placement would discourage the casual burglar but not a determined orc. Hal climbed the brickwork, pulling himself up with his fingertips and digging his nails into the red brick. He listened carefully for voices, determining if the warehouse was empty.

Only one heartbeat. Slow. Sluggish.

Draven.

Humans were louder. Their hearts raced. Inhalations were a sucking, dragging noise. Exhalations were positively ostentatious.

Draven was none of those things. They had shared hours and hours together. Hal screamed and roared and fought and bit. Draven remained still the entire time, as cold as the snow on his mountain.

Hal peered through the window. The warehouse was empty. At the center, a steel cage held the vampire Draven, bound by silver handcuffs.

His brother.

With his elbow, Hal broke the glass. It shattered, falling to the ground below. Moving quickly, he climbed through and leaped down. Glass crunched under his boots.

Dawn glowed weakly through the winter clouds. For the moment, there were plenty of shadows for the vampire’s comfort.

“If you’ve come to kill me, now is your best chance,” Draven said. He was gaunt, his face hollowed out with exhaustion.

“I should, but that’s not why I’m here.” Hal’s voice was a rumble, rough from neglect.

Surprise flickered across Draven’s face. Frankly, Hal was surprised, too, at his complete lack of desire for revenge. Heshouldtake this opportunity for retaliation—hurt Draven the way he had hurt him. Draven would never be more vulnerable.

Revenge had spurred him to this moment, but it wasn’t what he needed. His current existence was a void. Inflicting pain on the vampire would satiate his hunger for vengeance, but it would not fill the void inside him. Hal had no sense of himself. No plan beyond the immediate need to survive, but survive for what? He had no aspirations for grander things. When he tried to summon what his previous self desired, he came up empty.

“I want answers,” Hal said.

“Free me, and you’ll get your answers.” Draven raised his cuffed hands. The exposed skin was red and swollen, like an allergic reaction.

“Answers first.”

Hal approached the cage. The lock appeared basic, almost rustic. It should take no effort to break or wrench open. Perhaps he could bend the bars to allow the slender Draven to slip through.

Or he could reach through the bars of the cage, grab the vampire by the throat, and squeeze. Simple. Easy. Emotional resolution achieved. Draven looked too weak to fight him off, but he knew from experience that his brother was stronger than his appearance suggested.

Never underestimate a cornered beast.

“What are you wearing? Did you rob a child?” Draven asked.

“How quickly did you get captured? I assume you just walked into this cage,” Hal retorted. He quite liked the wool coat he stole from the slumbering deputy. It was a deep brown wool, the kind of color that hid mud splatters, and fit him in the shoulders, even if it was a bit short. “This coat is better than anything you ever gave me.”

Draven looked away briefly, the only sign of remorse. “Clothing was not practical.”