Page 55 of Bitten Vampire
“I’m not a charity case. I can’t take advantage of you.”
Then we will move. I’ll fold myself.
“Move? Fold yourself? So the rumours about wizards’ houses are true—you can move?”
My feet hit the hallway floor and I grab my trainers from the shoe rack.
Oh yes. Didn’t you know? I can pick myself up and go anywhere. I try to stay in this country, but I do not have to. I don’t even need to stay on this continent. We could choose somewhere warm.
“You would… take us with you?”
Of course. It costs power, and I have not been rooted here a full year, but it’s doable. If we arecareful,they will take a while to find us. I have been bouncing around for more than a century.
“Wow.”
Get ready—they are about to breach,House whispers.
Beryl slaps into my palm.
“What do I do?” I hiss.
We’re up. Let’s go.
“But… what do I do?”
You are bait, kid. Suck it up.
I edge away from the front door, keeping clear of the windows. My back meets the wall; from here I can see both the living room and the kitchen. My whole body trembles.
Beryl tuts.Typical. If you want something done properly, you have got to do it yourself.
She launches from my hand, hovering before me, the point of the stake angled outward, ready to fight.
Everything happens at once.
The bay window in the living room shatters—glass exploding inward like a spray of diamonds that tinkles across the floor. At the same moment, the back door blows off its hinges, and smoke floods the hall.
I hold my breath, but my eyes sting.
The vampires are here.
There are four of them. Two surge in at the rear, two claw through the broken window like creatures from a horror film. Black combat gear swirled with grey, goggles, and ghost-pale faces in the moonlight.
They see me immediately.
“Team One to command: target is in the house. Target has been sighted. Confirm execution order,” growls the smaller female.
If I could press myself deeper into the wall, I would. I stay motionless, palms flat against the wallpaper. My only hope is House and Beryl. Yet beneath the fear runs a grim certainty:this is futile.
Boots crunch closer. Weapons rise, so many weapons, all trained on me. My heart is silent, but dread coils around its useless husk.
“Order confirmed,” crackles a voice in their earpieces. “Take her out.”
“No,” I whisper—though nothing escapes: throat glued, body locked. I am a rabbit before wolves. Before vampires.
Then Beryl moves.
I shut my eyes; I cannot watch. If that makes me acoward, so be it. I will not see how I die. I brace for bullet or blade.
