The old square-looking truck pulled up in the middle of the road beside our car, which thankfully sheltered my almost nakedbody. An older, dark-haired man reached over and manually wound down his passenger-side window.
“Are you folks okay?” he asked in a deep Southern accent.
“Fine, thank you,” Karson responded, a grind in his tone.
The man frowned and looked at me. “Are you sure?”
“Fine, honestly,” I said as brightly as I could muster.
He took one long, last look at me and nodded, deciding I was okay, his old truck rattling as he drove off.
“Get dressed,” Karson snapped, moving to the trunk and throwing the clothes at me. I caught them with my good hand, then sat the T-shirt on the car seat and pulled the skirt up one-handed, struggling with the button. He changed his own top at the trunk of the car, and I caught a glimpse of his chest. The tattoo was a raven, its wings spread across broad, sleek, muscled perfection.
I felt like a kid peering through the store window of a closed candy shop and looked away before he caught me. When he finished, I was still struggling to do up my skirt. The new hole was too tight for the size of the button.
“Here, let me.” He reached down. I fixed my gaze out on the road, trying not to think of the feel of his fingers so close to my pelvic bone, or the ache in my core, or the idea of his fingers sliding under my skirt and slipping inside me.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, my cheeks flaming, stepping back quickly.
“Need a hand with the T-shirt too?” He held it out, annoyance replaced by amusement as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“I think I’ve got it.” I ripped it from his grasp, pulling it one-handed without grace over my head.
How did he hear the truck so long before it came?
The strength and speed he’d shown fighting those men in The Hollow?
Running faster than humanly possible. Even if it never happened, the fight did.
History says vampires originated here. The death rate locally has always been high. People die here all the time,Darcy’s words reverberated in my ears, sending a chill crawling over my skin.
There was nothing human about his skills. What was he? A vampire? Impossible. And it didn’t fit; I couldn’t exactly see him drinking blood. He was way too sophisticated for that.
“How did you see the deer?” Karson snapped my thoughts back to the present.
He was leaning with his back against the car, his arms crossed, regarding me intently. I glanced down at the forest below, but I couldn’t see where she lay from where we were.
“I don’t know—I must have caught a glimpse of her back up the road,” I said, unsure myself.
A strange, disconcerted expression crossed his face, but he said nothing.
We drove in awkward silence. I kept my eyes straight ahead. In my periphery, I could see he kept glancing at me with a comment perched on his lips, which never came.
After what felt like an eternity of torture, but was perhaps only ten minutes later, we pulled onto a long driveway. It wound up through the forestry on the right.
At the top, the drive circled in front of a large, double-storey brick home. It was surrounded by sprawling landscaped gardens, with big billowing trees scattered around before giving way to the natural forest.
An extra-high, double-sized carport was attached to a walkway leading to the front door, and a triple garage sat off to the side of the house. I couldn’t believe how lovely it was.
“It’s beautiful here,” I blurted, sneaking a quick glance at him.
“I thought you’d like it.”
He opened a large, heavy, wooden front door and ushered me inside. It led into a hallway, and the right-side wall was made of stacked stone. The other was painted beige. It stopped several feet in and opened up to a large sitting room with wooden floors and high ceilings. Straight ahead was a staircase. Everything held a warm and welcoming feel. We rounded the corner into the sitting room, which had a huge stacked-stone open fireplace. A tan couch and two armchairs sat facing each other. There was a dining table at the back of the room, and a large, well-appointed kitchen was visible off of the sitting room.
We toured the house upstairs. It had six bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. They spread out across two long corridors headed in different directions. Downstairs, there was also a gym, a library, and a study—all with views out across the forest.
Karson opened a thick, old wooden door, which led downstairs into a pitch-black basement. Something dark and unpleasant stirred in the deepest corners of my mind. The air left my chest, and a slow dose of fear rolled through my body. Everything was black. The darkness always held horror. My heart thumped against the cage of my chest.
