“For feck’s sake, of course I’m not certain. Unless you have her name and license plate number, this is all we have. She came in yesterday, but I’ve been busy looking for a bald-headed Viking. I didn’t see her face, but I remember those boots.”
When she collected her paper bag and headed out the door, Niko and Christian rose to their feet and followed swiftly behind. Christian put on his dark sunglasses, protecting his sensitive eyes from the sun. Winter was his least favorite time of year because of all the bright snow. Thank Jaysus for the twentieth century. Mass production made sunglasses popular, and everyone wore them. Back in his day, Vampires didn’t have dark shades to protect their eyes, so they’d mostly come out at night.
Christian approached his Honda and patted the hood. “Get inside. The door’s straight ahead.” He rounded the front and kept his eyes on the woman as she crossed the street and headed toward a green car.
Christian got in and turned the key. “Only one pound of fecking lamb? That’s hardly enough.”
“Raven doesn’t require as much food,” Niko reminded him.
“Do you think that justifies starving her?”
When the woman pulled out, Christian checked to make sure it was clear and circled around to follow. He kept a safe distance, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that he had to relax so as not to break it. Thirty minutes later, they were leaving the city and driving down a country road. Christian could no longer see the car, but he kept his ears glued to the familiar rattle of her engine.
“I don’t see energy trails anymore,” Niko said. “Have we left the city?”
“Aye.”
“Should we call Viktor?”
“Let’s wait until we get there. We’re too far out, so he’d never get here in time. I’m grateful you cared enough to tell me the news in person.”
Niko rubbed his mouth. “I used to have a sister when I was human. She was killed very young.”
Immortals rarely spoke in detail of the human life they’d left behind. Christian studied him for a moment. “I also had a sister. She was like you.”
“Blind?”
“Well, she wasn’t Japanese.”
They both laughed softly.
“Damn if she wasn’t the most self-sufficient girl,” Christian continued. “She could cook, clean, and do all the normal things expected of a woman in those days.”
“What happened to her?”
“My brothers and I left her behind. Families split apart in those days for golden opportunities. Turns out the grass wasn’t so green on the other side. Poor Cassie is dead and buried, but she was a spirited girl. I hope she lived a good life and found herself a nice young fella.”
Niko laced his fingers together. “Death isn’t the end.”
“Tell that to the bones in the graveyard.”
“We wouldn’t have Gravewalkers if there wasn’t more.”
Though it was hard to believe in something he couldn’t see, Christian couldn’t deny some of the things he’d experienced in his life. Especially after Wyatt’s ghost friend turned out to be an old acquaintance. Christian had never mentioned him to anyone.
Poor bastard. Even in death, the man couldn’t leave his woman’s side.
It scared the bejesus out of Christian to think he might end up in the same position one day—pining over a woman in the afterlife. Or worse, tortured by all the souls he’d put in the grave. Sometimes the idea of nothing after death sounded like a better ending.
Christian noticed the sound of her car moving to the right. “She’s slowing down. Call Viktor. He’ll understand that every second we have to wait for them is precious time lost.”
Niko made a call, repeating the directions exactly as Christian relayed them. Not long after he hung up the phone, they parked the car by the main road behind a grove of trees. The roads were somewhat clear, but there was still snow all over the land.
Christian rolled down the window and leaned his head out to listen. A car door unlocked, boots crunched on packed snow, and the woman made a shivering sound before slamming the car door. It was too damn far to hear every little detail, and he’d done his best to mute out the other sounds around him, like the popping of his engine, a plane flying overhead, and birds chirping frenetically in a thicket of bayberry.
When the muffled sound of a man’s voice overlapped hers, Christian opened the door. “I need to get closer.”
Niko clutched his arm, holding him inside. “Describe the landscape. If I need to find you, don’t have me run into a ditch.”
“I can’t tell how deep the snow is, but there’s a grove of fir trees outside your door. If you get out of the car and walk toward the back, you’ll hit the private road that runs left and right—house to the left. It’s a few hundred yards down, and I don’t see any ditches. But the trees are sparse around the property, so you won’t have any cover. It’s still daylight, so don’t come up unless you hear me calling for you.”
“Don’t get staked.”
“Put a cork in your arse before you jinx me. Give me a half hour. It’ll take time to circle around to the back without being seen. All this fecking white snow. If you hear a car coming from that direction, jump in the driver’s seat and throw it in reverse. You’ll block them in.”
“Which way is reverse?”
“Backwards. Jaysus.”
“I meant on the gear shift.”
Christian gave him a brief rundown on using the gearshift before getting out. With only one road leading in and bushes bordering the property, it made it easier to thwart any plans of escape.
A few inches of snow covered the dead grass, and because of the crunching sound it made, he kept his distance and cloaked himself in the shadow of dense evergreens. Whoever’s house this was, it looked fifty years old. Just a brown one-story with an attached garage on the side.
When he reached the back of the property, he saw an opportunity to get close. The side wall had no windows, so after a glance around, he sprinted across the field toward the house. His coat flapped in the wind as he cleared the field and made it.
“Why did you leave an hour early last night?” a man asked, his accent unmistakably British.
A paper bag rustled.
“The roads are terrible,” the woman from the shop replied. “I didn’t want to be late for work.”
“Nobody cares what we do in the morgue.”
Christian’s breath caught.
“I just thought I’d get a head start.”
The man didn’t raise his voice, but his words were threatening. “Do you know what a turncoat is? If I find out you’re up to something, you’ll be down there with her.”
Down there.
With her.
Raven was in the basement. He peered around the corner at the steps leading up to the back door. The low shrubs along the house didn’t obscure the windows, so he had to duck while running past them. Christian had reached the door, completely prepared to break in, when he noticed steps to his left leading down to a white door. Snow gathered only in the corners because of constant foot traffic, so he hurried down and turned the doorknob.
“Fecking dolt,” he murmured as the door opened. The blundering idiot had left it unlocked.