He would have given anything to be able to spend the night here, but they had to return to let Aria and Braith know they’d succeeded in making the rounds and that everyone should be arriving by tomorrow night.
With dry clothes and a full belly, he stepped back into the rain and in minutes his clothes were plastered to his skin. Maeve shivered again and he had to resist the impulse to drape his arm around her shoulders and draw her close to give her some of his body heat. He knew she would only draw away from him if he tried. They moved swiftly through the trees and back toward the safe house closest to the palace.
No one spoke as they walked and jogged over the sodden terrain. They were only five miles away from the barn when Daniel came to an abrupt halt. He ran a hand through his blond hair, shaking the rain from it as he tilted his head to the side. Max took hold of Maeve’s arm, drawing her back to stand beside him while Daniel surveyed the woods.
“What is it?” Timber asked.
“I don’t know,” Daniel said. “But I don’t like it.”
Max’s gaze ran over the trees and woods as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. As the hair on his nape stood up, he turned to look behind him, but still saw nothing there. “I think we need to get out of the open,” he said.
“Yes,” Daniel agreed.
Daniel turned and jogged up a steep hillside. Max followed closely behind him with Maeve, while Timber brought up the rear. At the top of the cliff, Max turned to look back down the rocky face as Daniel and Timber slipped into the small cave created by an outcropping of rocks. Maeve stood at his side, her arm trembling in his grasp. He knew the tremor was from the cold instead of fear; she had little fear of most things.
A flash of movement within the trees drew his attention to the right as a dozen vampires rode into view. The two of them slipped back, creeping into the small cave. Daniel and Timber were twenty feet away, examining the back wall. “Any way out?” Max inquired.
“No,” Timber said.
“There’s at least a dozen of them down there.”
“I don’t think they’ll come up here,” Daniel murmured as he turned toward them. “At least I hope not.”
Max crept back toward the opening of the cave and crouched at the entrance. He rested his fingers on the stone as he gazed down at the vampires clustered below. “What are they doing?” Maeve whispered from behind him.
“I think they caught our scent, but with the storm they can’t pinpoint us,” he replied.
“Wonderful,” she murmured.
Max remained kneeling, keeping watch as the vampires mulled about for a few minutes more before slipping into the woods. He didn’t trust them not to be somewhere down there, waiting to ambush them, and neither did the others as no one suggested continuing on right now.
A shiver worked its way over his chilled skin. Goose bumps covered his skin as night descended. Daniel and Timber were sleeping when Maeve knelt at his side again and handed him a piece of soggy bread from the last safe house.
“When can we leave?” she asked him.
“Not until morning, at least.”
She sat next to him and pressed her back against the wall. She’d pulled her wet cloak off earlier and set it with the others in the back of the cave. The thin shirt she wore underneath stuck to her petite frame as it dried. She had to be freezing, he certainly was, but still she didn’t complain, and he couldn’t build a fire to warm her.
Her black hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders as she picked at her piece of bread. The sleeves of her shirt had been pinned into place, hiding the scars there. Her arm brushed against his as her fingers pulled at the bread. He sensed she had something to say, but he waited until she was ready to speak instead of questioning her.
“Do you still have nightmares?” she inquired after a few minutes.
Though they had only briefly discussed it before, he knew she was talking about his time as a blood slave. “Yes, do you?”
“Yes.” She stuck a piece of bread in her mouth and chewed on it. “Almost every night.” Her fingers went to the scar on her face and traced over it.
“How did you get that?” he asked.
Her hand fell away, and her gaze focused on the opposite wall. “My captor sometimes thought it was more fun to cut me open to drink my blood. It’s not the only one I have.”
Max clamped his teeth together, barely containing his need to slam his fist into the cave wall. He took a steadying breath. She was a fighter, but she wouldn’t handle seeing that kind of unprovoked violence from him, not after what she’d experienced.
“I see,” he said when he could trust himself to speak again. He knew he couldn’t show her pity; she would turn away from him if he did.
She continued to stare ahead, her fingers fiddling with the bread in her hand. “I survived at least, many didn’t.”
“Very true,” he replied, though he knew a part of him had died in Katrina’s hands.