Page 18 of Midnight Coven

The overhead light was on.

Sunlight streamed in from the kitchen windows. He and Wynter had vampire-safe glass put in there, so the filtered sunlight wouldn’t even hurt him. From the angle of the beams coming through the kitchen doorway, Nick realized he couldn’t have been out for long.

One hour… two at most.

It was still morning, from the angle of the light.

It was still more than an hour away from noon.

Nick remembered he was supposed to call the glass company yesterday and forgot. Wynter wanted to put the same, vampire-proof glass in their bedroom, so she wouldn’t constantly be freaking out, worried she forgot to close the light-canceling curtains.

He would call today. On the train.

While he and the kid were heading to the city.

Nick realized he wasn’t alone.

He jerked his head around at the thought, halfway sitting up.

When he did, someone next to him jumped back.

They moved lightly, catlike on their feet.

From Nick’s vampire perspective, it felt like the whole thing happened slow. He took in every increment with his vampire ability to capture movement and sensation.

Yet he knew from a human or seer perspective, it happened all at once.

He’d probably scared the hell out of whoever it was.

For some reason, he’d expected to see Wynter.

Tai stood there.

Nick blinked up at her small face. He took in her puckered, bow-shaped mouth, her wide, startled eyes, her messy, tangled hair. She gripped her stuffed, rainbow-colored unicorn in two small hands. Her ice-blue eyes stared down at him, her expression puzzled.

“Someone’s at the door,” she said.

Nick stared back at her, uncomprehending.

For a few seconds, he didn’t so much as move, although he was still panic breathing, with a body that no longer required oxygen.

Tai’s voice grew more urgent.

“Someone’s at the door,” she repeated. “They’re banging on it. Ms. James was worried. She saw it on her security system. She told me to go get you. Then she told me to hide.”

Nick fought to clear his head.

He raised a hand from the top of the bedspread and rubbed his face. He glanced down at himself and realized at least he still wore his clothes under the blankets.

He frowned up at the kid.

“Did Wynter… Ms. James… say who it was? Who she saw on the cameras?”

“No.”

He hesitated, wondering if he should ask.

Had he really passed out? Right in front of the kid?

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