“A few years,” Shaun said.
Roxy hummed contemplatively. “Long enough to gain a proper foothold, I’ll wager. We’ll need an item that belonged to him—a talisman, an anchor, something that meant a lot. Gems, stones and metals are the best for this kind of spell. Plus,” she added with a grin, “those items are easy to drop into the middle of the ocean.”
“Couldn’t you trap Lawrence in a frisbee?” DJ asked. “That would be even better for chucking him away. You could just”—he mimed tossing a frisbee—“yeet him into the sea.”
“Did Lawrence have any emotional attachment to a specific frisbee?” Roxy asked, so deadpan that Kit wasn’t sure if she was humouring DJ or not.
“Funnily enough,” Kit said, eager to stop this avenue of discussion, “no, he didn’t.”
“Ah,” she said. “No frisbee option then, I’m afraid.”
“But we compelled someone to get rid of all of Lawrence’s stuff for us,” Shaun said. “I’m not sure how quick it’ll be to trace the items.” As Shaun spoke, Kit realised he might be the only one of them who still knew where to find something Lawrence had owned. His nightmares reminded him often of his past, though he’d prefer not to speak of it.
“We didn’t get rid of everything!” DJ exclaimed, giving Kit hope. “Van kept those Russian nesting dolls.” DJ looked at Roxy and Xavier. “Sorry if that’s offensive.”
Roxy shot him a blank look. “What about that did you think would offend me?”
“The Russian part?”
“And why would that offend me? IamRussian, and so are the dolls.”
“Oh, good,” DJ said, visibly relieved. “Then how about we get Van to send them to us?”
“One problem with that,” Rake said. “She thinks we live in Australia.”
“Van totally knows we don’t live in Australia,” DJ said.
“Not to put a downer on the idea, but the dolls are wood, and Lawrence only liked them for being expensive,” Shaun said.
Kit had been holding back, but it seemed like they were out of other options. “The manor house,” he whispered.
Shaun caught his eye. “What manor house?”
Everyone’s attention redirected to Kit. He fought to keep his expression neutral. “It’s near the Borders. The place where I spent the last few months of my mortal life.”
“Wasn’t it sold with the rest of his properties?” Rake asked. “I don’t remember seeing it in the portfolio.”
“It was condemned after I set the fire,” Kit said, avoiding meeting Quin’s gaze. He hadn’t told him this part yet. Doing it in front of the others was like digging a stubborn skelf out from deep in his finger. “I burned it down during the day with us both inside. It’s far out in the middle of nowhere, so there’s little chance that anyone would have bothered to fully demolish it. He had a lot of things he cared for there. It might not be in the best condition, but anything gold probably survived.”
Lawrence had always appreciated gaudy items, so there had been plenty of gold trinkets and decor throughout the manor. An image flashed in his mind of Lawrence adorning him with jewellery; thin linked necklaces draping down his chest and delicate bracelets jangling from his wrists—the most expensive of shackles. The Polaroid evidence of that had gone up in flames, though Lawrence had made up for the loss with many more photographs.
“How did you get out?” Quin asked, his arms tightening around Kit.
Kit turned his head, raising his eyes to meet Quin’s. His gaze was soft, and Kit had to fight his natural urge to bristle at the sympathy in his expression. “The flames woke him up even though it was daytime. He took me down to the cellar and kept us there until nightfall.”
“What—” Shaun started, and then broke off, but Kit thought he knew what he was going to ask.
“What did he do to me afterwards? That was when he recreated me as a vampire. He’d held off, needing to keep me human so he had someone handy to feed on.”
Shaun looked as though he might be sick. “How long did he wait?”
Kit should have been furious at such an intrusive question, but if anyone could ask it, it was Shaun. “Four months, two weeks, and six days,” Kit said, giving Shaun a humourless smile. “Not like I was counting.” That was technically the truth, as he hadn’t always been cognisant enough to notice the passage of time. When he became a vampire, he’d been able to check the date and actually keep track. It had been galling to realise he’d missed his eighteenth birthday.
Kit let Quin turn him around and pull him into a tight hug, Kit happy to bury his face in Quin’s chest. It meant he didn’t have to see anyone else’s reactions.
“So,” Rake said after a beat of silence, “we go to the manor and find an item of Lawrence’s, and once we do, we’ll bring it back here for the spell.” His words only half-registered with Kit, reaching his ears as if muffled.
“Works for us,” Roxy said.
