Page 64 of Cloak of the Vampire
“He told you not to leave, though,” Wode said dryly, as if he couldn’t care less.
Felix ignored him and entered the woods, his spine straight with determination. Leaving me and Wode alone.
“You know, I don’t actually hate your kind,” Wode said conversationally. I glanced at him again, trying to see his face from beneath the hood of his cloak but in vain. “Rigid and cold? Sure. But a complete waste of space? Not really.”
“Then why?” I asked, my heart booming in my ears. “Why are you doing this ... whatever this is?”
Wode chuckled. “Faith, my friend. Everything is always about faith.”
Gunfire echoed in the forest, so nearby that I stilled. Wode grew quiet too.
Another rustling sound, and then a sight out of nightmares appeared. A tall, muscular man appeared, holding two severed, disfigured heads by the hair, which I could barely tell belonged to Yannis and Felix. His naked chest was dripping with blood, and his jeans and boots were soaked in either blood or mud. His eyes were glowing a pure, electric neon blue, his hair a mess, curtaining his face. His fangs were unsheathed, blood dripping from the edges of his mouth.
Wode proved to be smart. He took the scythe off me and jumped to his feet. His hood fell off in the process, revealing a rugged, handsome face. I was struck by his unforgettable eyes that shone like quicksilver and his tousled hair as black as the night. With a flick of his hand, the blade suddenly shrank until it was as small as a keychain. “She’s all yours,” Wode told the man.
The man dropped the severed heads onto the ground. He stared at Wode, his face the epitome of vengeance, as though he was ready to tear Wode’s head off just as he had done to the other two, despite his offer to surrender me.
Wode seemed to like his head where it was. “I didn’t hurt her,” he said quietly before he nodded and took off with such speed, he could’ve been a vampire.
But any thoughts I might’ve had about Wode disappeared when I returned my gaze to the man. He was looking at me with eyes so bright the pupils were almost completely gone. He stepped toward me, and if I’d had just a little more energy left, I would’ve up and run just then.
He crouched before me, and his large hand reached forward and cupped my head gently. That’s when my stunned mind finally computed who it was.
And the emotion that caught me in the throat was so unexpected, I almost cried again. “Ragnor,” I whispered.
Shock and horror made it hard to connect the man I knew and the monster before me. I felt myself shake, staring at him with both terror and relief. Because he was here, saving me, and yet he looked as though he’d been pulled from the deepest depths of hell.
Then something warm engulfed me, and I felt my eyelids flutter shut and my muscles relax as a sudden, unnatural sleep took me under.
I woke up in the softest, coziest, most comfortable bed I’d ever lain in.
Squeezing the duvet, I wanted to remain in this bed forever. I was awake, I acknowledged, but still tired enough that I could go back to sleep for days more. My mind wasn’t working properly yet anyway, and it was so warm and comfy here.
A weight fell on the other side of the bed, signaling I wasn’t alone in this room, wherever this was, and that shook me right awake.
Slowly, I pushed away the duvet and sat up. The familiarly designed room took the back seat when I saw the half-naked, scarred back of the man who sat on the other edge of the bed. The soapy smell of men’s bodywash tickled my nose, and when I saw he was drying his wet strands with a towel, I realized he’d just taken a shower.
Automatically, I looked down at myself. I was still in Zoey’s dress, still dirty.
And I was in his bed.
Ragnor’sbed.
As my mind slowly woke up, I looked around me and realized why the design of the room seemed so familiar. The room wasn’t one I’d ever visited—it was a suite with its own living room—but it had the same marble floors and wooden walls, the same lantern shape and colors, and the same basic layout as my shared suite with Zoey and Tansy.
I was back at the Rayne League.
Buthow? How long had I been out? It couldn’t have beenthatlong. We were supposed to drive back by bus from Oregon, our final destination and the location of the Kalama League, all the way straight to Maine. Yet even if the bus had already been fixed, it still would’ve taken five days to get back, including rest stops and all that ...
“How are you feeling?”
I jumped, snapping my head toward Ragnor. He turned to face me, his face no longer full of blood, his fangs sheathed, and his eyes their usual, pretty midnight blue. But my gaze couldn’t stay on his face; my eyes had a life of their own as they roamed down to his chest, where his glistening pectorals made my mouth water.
“Henderson?”
In one swift motion, I got off the bed and was about to head toward the exit of what suspiciously seemed to be Ragnor’s private quarters when the man himself grabbed my arm, bringing me to a stop. “We need to talk,” he said quietly.
I whirled around to face him, feeling my ire and panic rising. “I need to shower,” I said, searching his gaze—to find what, I had no idea. “I need to take this fucking dress off and shower before I—”
