The Lodge had a beachfront, and people were already sitting out on beach chairs, soaking up the morning sun. There weren’t many—a handful of tourists, a couple with a toddler, an old man reading a newspaper—but enough to notice two vampires who looked like they’d walked straight out of a crime scene.
Selena’s hair fell around her shoulders in wild tangles. She looked conspicuous in that black gown, wrinkled and askewfrom everything we’d done. My appearance was no different. Still in this damn tuxedo, stained with blood—hers and mine.
I might as well wave my arms and signal to Angelo we were over here.
I pulled out my phone.
Valentin answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”
I glanced around nervously, scanning the tree line, the beach, the parking lot. Hoping no one was following us. “Outside the Lodge.”
“We’re on the third floor. Got a balcony that faces the lake. Rose is out there now.”
I ended the call and shoved the phone back in my pocket. “Third floor. Balcony facing the lake.”
Selena nodded, her eyes wide but determined. She trusted me. After everything I’d done to her, she still trusted me.
I didn’t deserve it.
We transformed again, our bodies shrinking and shifting into the familiar shape of bats. Selena followed my lead as we rose above the palm trees and circled the Lodge.
It was easy to find the balcony. Rose sat on a lounge chair, her blonde hair catching the morning light. She was sipping from a ceramic mug, looking calm as ever—like two fugitives landing on her balcony was just another Sunday.
There was a time when seeing her would have made my chest ache. When I’d convinced myself she was the one, not the mate the fates had chosen for me. Looking at her now, I felt nothing but relief. She was a friend. Maybe the only one I had left.
We touched down on the warm concrete and transformed back.
Rose didn’t even flinch. She just looked us up and down, taking in the blood-stained tuxedo, the ruined gown, the wild hair and desperate eyes.
“Well,” she said dryly. “You two look like hell.”
Valentin slid open the patio door. “Come in here. Quick.”
He had on a leather jacket, no shirt, and a pair of jeans—like he’d thrown on whatever was closest when he got the call. His dark hair was longer than mine, falling past his shoulders in loose waves. He was Dimitri’s brother and had the same smile and the same sharp cheekbones—though Valentin’s eyes held more warmth. More compassion. Less of the cold calculation I’d seen in Dimitri.
He was the man who had won Rose’s heart. He’d been labeled a traitor once... not that it was true. The vampire world had turned its back on him, whispered his name like a curse, treated him like he was something to be scraped off the bottom of their shoes.
Just like me.
Maybe that’s why he’d agreed to help. He knew what it felt like to be hunted for something you didn’t do.
Selena and I stepped inside, and the cool air conditioning hit my skin like a slap. The room was nicer than I expected—an open living room with a plush couch, a glass coffee table, a small kitchen tucked against the far wall, and a dining table near the window with a view of the lake. A hallway branched off to the right, two bedroom doors facing each other across the narrow corridor. The curtains were drawn halfway, letting in strips of golden morning light.
It was a safe house. Comfortable, anonymous, forgettable. Exactly the kind of place Valentin would have set up—somewhere no one would think to look twice.
Rose followed us inside, sliding the patio door shut behind her. She set her mug on the counter and leaned against the kitchenette, her arms crossed. Her eyes moved between Selena and me. We must have looked like hell—barely standing, clothes wrecked, smelling like bayou water and blood, the exhaustion carved into our faces.
I waited for the questions. The accusations.The what the hell did you do?
But Rose just let out a slow breath and said, “Sit down. Both of you. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
Valentin grabbed some blood packets out of a small refrigerator then put them in a microwave. “Tell me—did you steal it?”
The question hit me like a slap. I wanted to lunge at him, to snarl that I wasn’t a thief—but I was, wasn’t I? That’s exactly what I’d done. The anger died in my throat, replaced by something bitter and small.
“Yes.” He didn’t have to say what “it” was.
Selena and I glanced at each other. Her eyes held a question—how much do we tell them?
