Page 156 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

I duck lower and creep closer, the hedges shrinking until I am forced into a crouch. When I am near enough to catch the guard’s scent on the breeze, another figure steps from the shadow of the gatehouse.

Damn it.

Two.

I wait, scenting the air.

Neither has that dry, graveyard stink I remember from the made vampire. Both are natural-born, at least. But neither looks remotely inclined to leave his post.

For another minute, I watch and hope one of them might move away, but they remain still and statuesque. I could throw a stone to draw them off, but I’m more likely to alert them to my presence than lure both away from the gate. Even if it worked, there would still be the gate itself to contend with.

A larger distraction might work, but anything dramatic enough to pull both guards away would probably bring half the City Watch running.

Dark clouds gather across the moon, swallowing its light piece by piece. Standing here in the deepening darkness, the enormity of what I am attempting settles over me.

It seems I will have to fling myself from Arken’s balcony after all—and pray my wings remember what to do.

I begin creeping back towards the castle. As I near the tall hedges, smoke catches my nose, acrid and distinct. Tobacco.

I stop.

There it is again.

Fresh smoke.

Every hair on my body rises, but curiosity tugs me forwards.

Where is it coming from?

A figure emerges around the corner ahead.

Every muscle in my body locks.

Grey skin. Black-and-crimson uniform. Stiff, unnatural movements.

A made vampire.

It isn’t looking this way. Its eyes are narrowed, slowly sweeping the grounds.

And it is not smoking.

I press deeper into the hedge, dense leaves and branches closing around me. It shouldn’t see me unless it looks directly this way, and reaching better cover would mean crossing open ground.

Better to stay still until it leaves.

Only the creature stops, lifting its head and sniffing the air.

Apparently, it smells the smoke too.

It turns slowly, searching the empty lawn.

There is nobody there.

I hold my breath, praying the foliage is enough to obscure me.

It does not see me.

Another thin ribbon of smoke drifts through the moonlight, swirling around the made vampire.