He grips the handle of the poker andpulls.
The sound is wet and sucking, like a boot pulled from deep mud. He tosses the bloodied iron onto the floor with a clang. The hole in his chest doesn't bleed. It’s just a dark, empty cavity.
He smiles. His gums are grey. Fangs, sharp and white, click into place.
"That was rude," he says.
Holy shit.
The biological impossibility hits me like a bat to the head. No blood. No pain response. Rapid tissue regeneration.
"Vampires," I wheeze, the word tasting like acid. "You're actually vampires."
He licks his lips. "We prefer 'Duval.'"
He steps toward me.
I scream—a raw, guttural sound that tears at my throat—and scramble backward. I spin on my heel and sprint for the side door, the servants' entrance I saw earlier. I don't check to see if he’s following. I can hear the others coming from the dining room, a stampede of apex predators on expensive flooring.
I burst through the door and into the humid, suffocating night.
The heat hits me like a wall, instant and oppressive. The air is thick with insects and the scent of the swamp—wet earth, decay, and standing water.
My rental car is fifty yards away on the gravel drive.
"Keys, keys, keys," I chant, patting the pockets of my dress.
Empty.
Panic.Cold, paralyzing panic threatens to seize the gears.Think, Miranda. Trace the steps.
I left them in the car. Because I was distracted by the creepy house. Because I’m an idiot.
I sprint across the gravel. The sharp stones shred my stockings and bite into the soles of my feet, but I don't feel the pain. I only feel the terror nipping at my heels.
I reach the car. I yank the handle.
Locked.
"No, no, no." I try again.
I look through the glass. The keys are dangling in the ignition. I locked it manually when I got out.
I hear a hiss from the porch. I turn.
Matilde stands on the steps, the moonlight catching the blood-red silk of her dress. She looks like a nightmare deity. She points a long, skeletal finger at me.
"Fetch," she commands.
Three shadows detach themselves from the darkness of the house and rush me.
I look around wildly. A decorative rock border lines the driveway. I grab a jagged piece of limestone the size of a grapefruit.
I smash it against the driver’s side window.
Crack.The safety glass spiderwebs but holds.
"Break, damn you!"
