Page 116 of Claimed By Blood

She doesn’t say it, but her jaw locks and her eyes turn watery with regret.

So that’s where he buried us. In the back garden, like we were pets.

I’m not going back there. Someone else can search that place… if it comes to it.

“I doubt looking in there will be necessary.” Draven’s cool voice gives no indication that he was just asleep, and I wonder if he was faking it just to get out of talking to the rest of the pack. It’s dusk, but he’s begun waking earlier and earlier recently—normally a sign that a vampire is ageing to the point where sunlight ceases to affect them.

Eventually, he’ll become a daywalker, but until then, he’s reliant on the special coating on the glass of the van to keep him protected.

“There’s no reason to,” Finn agrees, and I realise they’ve both picked up on my hesitance along their bonds.

“Agreed,” Gideon mutters, pulling up the weed-strewn drive to the front of the mansion. “The mausoleum was sealed off from everyone. We should focus our search on the village and the manor.”

The engine cuts off, and Frost is out of the van before I can even blink. “Stay here. I’ll clear the place out.”

Without even explaining what he means by that, he strides away from us and towards the splintered great front door.

After a minute of silence, the first ghoul appears.

It lopes into the sun, burning and hissing with each step as it streaks towards the trees. It must be old enough to withstand the worst of the weak evening rays, because it makes it to the forest. Some of the others who follow it aren’t so lucky. They collapse halfway across the ruined gardens, turning to ash where they stand.

When Frost walks out again, he glances at the sun once more. “Fuck, I’m glad I’m a hybrid,” he mutters.

“Good for you,” Draven retorts, and I feel his annoyance, accompanied by a rare bout of self-loathing which disappears before I can look at it further, encased in ice. “Fuck, I hate this place. Inside is dark?”

“Dark enough,” Frost nods. “You guys get set up. I won’t be long. I’m just going to make sure the other ghouls are definitely dormant. When there are so many of them, they can get distracted from my commands.”

Without waiting for an answer, he follows the trail of ashes towards the trees.

Then, in a move they must have practised, Silas flings open the van door and Draven sprints for the mansion at vampire speed. He stops just inside the entryway, protected by the shade, and I breathe a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding.

“Home sweet home,” he announces, wafting the smoke from his shoulders like it’s a pesky inconvenience and not a sign of the lethal solar gauntlet he just ran.

Silas follows him, then reaches back and offers me a hand. “You okay?” he checks.

His concern is touching, and I offer him a small smile. I’m not sure how I feel right now, but I’ve battled far worse in my life than a few bad memories.

“I’ll be fine,” I promise, letting him pull me out until I’m standing on the gravel. “It feels weird to be back… though I suppose I didn’t really leave…”

The words fall awkwardly into the space, but thankfully Silas doesn’t let me dwell on them. He wraps an arm around my shoulder and drags me into his body, leading me over to the door where Draven is still waiting.

“Come on. Let’s leave the losers to unpack. You can give me the tour.”

“Usthe tour,” Draven corrects, hooking his arm around my waist the second we reach the shadow. “After all, I only got to see the dungeons when I stayed here, and I doubt I’d be much help with all of that.” He waves a hand at where Finn and Vane are already getting started on unloading the tech that seems to follow them everywhere.

Oh right. This was where Draven was held prisoner after he helped Frost escape, which must mean it’s also where he was turned and forced to kill his friends. No wonder he doesn’t like it here.

Over my head, Silas gives Draven a suspicious look, but the vampire just returns one of his signature impassive stares.

“I’m going to check out the mausoleum,” Immy whispers, lingering in the door. “I have a feeling…”

“I’ll go with you,” Vane offers, putting down his own box.

“Go. We’ll set up camp in the foyer,” Gideon says, striding past the rest of us with a giant box under each arm. “It has the most avenues for escape if we’re discovered. Our main focus is the village, but a preliminary search of the manor is a good idea. Stay cautious. We don’t know if Cain left any traps.”

With permission granted, Silas grins and leads our trio over to the grand marble staircase, which is still standing—even if it’s cracked and chipped beyond recognition.

“Come on then,” he says, “Where should we start looking?”

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