Chloe shut off the little voice that wanted her to head right back under the blankets upstairs after that thing had squeezed her, trying to claim her life.
She was in London. She was around huntsmen, who would now be a lot more vigilant about what was going on around her. There were two vampires watching her. She was not going to let some cowardly witch asshole ruin her trip—or her friends’. Besides, her room was clearly no safer than anywhere else.
Though her appetite had disappeared, she forced a few bites of everything on her plate and made a point of smiling a lot, joining everyone’s conversations. By the end of breakfast, her face felt like it was going to split in two. Her throat was dry and overworked. She had never noticed how much effort talking and smiling took.
They cleared their plates and gathered in the hallway. Before she left the kitchen, Bash pulled her sleeve.
‘Stop.’
She frowned at him.
‘We get it. This morning sucks. Stop trying to fake having fun for our sakes. It’s not working, and it’ll only make you more miserable. You smile when you want to, got it?’
She did smile at him then—her first real one since the scarf. ‘All right.’
Outside, both Mikar and Cat were waiting on the pavement, a frown in place.
‘Something’s wrong.’
Chloe wondered how they could tell.
‘Someone got into my room and gave me a scarf that tried to strangle me.’
The two vampires glanced at each other.
‘A scarf?’
To her relief, Blair explained the events of breakfast. Mikar never stopped glowering as he listened.
‘Someone got into your room…and just dropped a scarf on the bed. That doesn’t add up.’
‘No one got near the house last night,’ Cat added, somewhat defensively.
She wanted it understood she’d done her job right.
‘I know. Thank you so much for watching me, Catherine, Mikar.’
She hadn’t said that to them yet.
The vamp relaxed while Mikar walked away, phone in hand. To report to his boss, Chloe guessed.
Chloe was pretty certain that if he’d appeared right then, she would have been fully capable of expressing the extent of her gratitude. She did need her guards. She was powerless.
How many times had they helped her without her knowing it? Had they prevented attacks in Oldcrest?
She wanted—needed—to know. She daren’t ask.
‘Right. Who’s up for a boat ride?’
Chloe yet again proved that her strongest skill was distracting herself. Out on the water, wind on her face, she didn’t even care about the cold. Which might have had a lot to do with the fact that the cruise day included afternoon tea and unlimited champagne top-up.
Afternoon tea, she learned, was an adorable British custom that involved mini sandwiches and cakes on tiered plate stands. She went back for at least five three-inch-tall Victoria sponges and two serving of scones with jam and clotted cream. To crown a wonderful day, her bright yellow waterproof overcoat was doing its job, keeping her mostly dry.
By the early evening, when they were back in the London docks, she had messy hair and a light heart.
She hoped she’d remember this day. Her friends, the food, the boat. The scarf was a bleep on the radar.
‘You’re so strong. A lot stronger than me. I’d be in pieces, if I were you,’ Blair said.
Chloe shrugged.
‘I’m just used to life getting in the way of happiness. So I learned to enjoy the moments and be grateful for them.’
The witch watched her before smiling. ‘We should toast. To the moment.’
Chloe laughed. ‘We’ve toasted plenty, thank you.’
She’d never liked getting drunk; Chloe was one to stop halfway to tipsy.
She soon realized she was the exception among her group, besides Jack, who only had one flute of champagne and, hours later, at dinner, sipped on red wine, taking his time. But the others were downing their drinks like water.
Jack’s advice on staying inconspicuous and traveling separately long forgotten, their group wobbled through Mayfair, singing and dancing on the pavement.
‘Don’t look so disapproving,’ Jack said with a laugh. ‘They can take a nest of rogue shifters while half-drunk. It’s actually part of the training.’
Of course it was.
‘I’m not disapproving. I just don’t understand the desire to lose control.’
Jack nodded as they turned into New Bond Street. During the day, the street was a hub of activity, with black taxis driving over the speed limit; now, it was empty. ‘You wouldn’t,’ he said, understanding in his tone. ‘Those who’ve had the rug pulled from under their feet rarely do. What happened with your dad…I’m sorry. It sucks. But it doesn’t define you.’
Didn’t it?
‘It’s hard to believe that when I’m basically on the run, in another continent, because of it. I had to give up my home, move, and now…’
Jack was thoughtful. ‘You’re assuming that this mess has something to do with your father. It’s possible…’
He never finished that sentence.
A spear flashed through the air, aimed right at his head. The next instant, unbelievably, Jack moved a fraction of an inch to the left and caught it in motion.
‘In formation!’ he yelled.
The huntsmen, who’d barely seemed able to walk on a straight line moments before, moved as one, forming a circle back-to-back with Chloe, Blair, and Gwen in the middle.
It looked like they’d be putting that drunken training to the test.
The seconds were thick, heavy, endless. Nothing happened. After a minute, Chloe wondered if it had just been a huntsmen-hating prank, someone seeing an opportunity to try and hurt Jack.
But in the next instant, both sides of the long, wide street darkened as a crowd of yelling, growling creatures ran right to them.
The creatures were armed with spears and swords, and some had guns. Chloe couldn’t quell her fear. So many of them. Dozens. Perhaps a hundred. She couldn’t tell in the dark.
To her left, Blair lifted her hands to shoulder height and yelled. Bright light flashed out of her palms and flew through the thick crowd of enemies, knocking a good few over. Gwen’s eyes were on the sky. Her dark irises flashed silver-white, and the sky thundered in response to her call. Fist-size balls of ice fell from the sky, hitting everyone outside of their circle.
Everyone was useful except her.
Chloe wasn’t one to enjoy violence. Other than for self-defense, she’d never been interested in fighting. She’d always thought that violence only bred more violence in an unending circle of animosity.
Right now, she felt foolish. Downright foolish. Those creatures weren’t going to stop just because she didn’t want to fight. They didn’t care. They’d planned this ambush to destroy every single one of them. And Chloe should have been able to fight or, at the very least, defend herself and be useful to her friends.
She saw one of Tris’s many spare blades flash at her belt.
‘Can I have a knife?’ she asked her.
Without sparing her a glance, Tris pulled a long, curved knife out of her jacket and threw it behind her.
Chloe’s fingers wrapped around the hilt, grabbing it like a lifeline. At least now she didn’t feel so very useless.
The creatures were almost on them, close enough for her to see that their faces seemed wrong, contorted into a mask of hunger and horror. What were they?
The first line reached the huntsmen, and blades fell on blades in a thundering clash with such speed that Chloe could barely follow the movements.
The things had sharp, vampire-like teeth, though much longer than any vamp’s fangs Chloe had ever seen. And it wasn’t just their canines—at least four, and sometimes even eight, of their teeth protruded from their mouths.
They didn’t have the strength, but they had the numbers. Chloe saw one fallen creature crawling on the floor, mouth wide open to bite Bash. She screamed, ‘Watch out!’ and ran to her friend.
Too afraid to give much thought to her actions, she plunged her knife deep inside the creature’s skull before its jaw closed on him.
That was when she realized she could be helpful. The huntsmen were protecting her and the witches, and she could protect them by looking around and defending them from sneaky attacks.
She concentrated on that job, awkwardly pushing her knife through legs, over shoulders, and under arms.
She would have sworn that a lifetime had passed, but Mikar appeared only minutes later, Cat by his side.
Something changed in the air. Chloe could almost taste fear. The moment the creatures saw them, they attempted a retreat. And she understood why.
Mikar had never seemed threatening to her until then. He was certainly muscular, and there was an edge to his dark eyes. But she’d never stopped to think what he’d done to earn himself a place as one of Levi’s guards.
Now she knew she was facing a killer. The sort of man who took lives with ease, perhaps even pleasure. At his side, Cat was a tigress. A cat ready to pounce and play with her food.
The creatures never had a chance.
Chloe saw nothing more than shadows in the wind. Claws flashing and blood pouring out of ripped throats. She’d been impressed by Gwen’s hail, but Cat’s hands propelled thunder that destroyed everything in its path.
An instant later, all but one of the creatures were in pieces on the ground, and the street was silent and motionless. Then, as if freaked by the atmosphere, a nearby car alarm rang out.
Tris laughed. She laughed.
And the next moment, Chloe was laughing too.
Everything was hilarious.
They were alive.
