Blood Fever (The Watchers #3)

But in that moment, I knew. It was Mei-Ling who would escape, not me.

I went to Tom, putting all my heart and soul in my next question. “Will you take her?”

He scoffed at my intensity. “Why do you think I brought you here? I can fit both you girls.”

“Not me,” I said. “Not yet.” I turned to Mei-Ling. “But you need to go. Run. I’ll tell them you’re dead. Your family won’t be safe if the vampires think you’re still alive.”

She reached out and took my hand. She looked scared and so young. “Come with me.”

I stared longingly at that boat. I couldn’t go now. I’d faced escape once before only to realize I’d found a place and it was by Carden’s side. Now I knew I’d also found a fight.

I couldn’t leave Eyja næturinnar. I didn’t know who I’d be if I ran away now, but I knew who I’d be if I stayed.

I wouldn’t go down easy. I’d see this through. Help the girls who wanted it. Stick by my friends.

“I need to stay,” I said. “I’m in too deep. I need to figure out who these vampires are. What they are. But first, I need to save Carden.”

I looked at Mei-Ling, feeling my heart crack. Friends were too rare to be saying good-bye to one so quickly. But I had to put her on that boat. She wouldn’t survive otherwise.

“Be safe.” I felt emotion threatening, and to stifle it, I went into robot mode, reciting all I knew. “There are shipping lanes throughout the North Sea. Wherever Tom takes you, you can catch a larger boat to Norway, or Iceland, or Scotland. Get food first, though. Jerky, stuff like that. More important is water. You can live for weeks without food, but without water, you’re dead in a few days. Find a boat; then stow away if you have to. But I imagine ships all need kitchen or cleaning staff. Don’t trust anyone.” I realized she was looking at me funny, and I gave a humorless laugh. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Apparently.” She smiled at me until I couldn’t help but smile back.

“One more thing.” I removed a throwing star from my boot. I couldn’t let her go without some sort of weapon. I handed it to her. “Don’t try to throw it. I mean, you can practice—you should practice—but you never know when you’ll need something sharp.”

She pushed my hand away. “I can’t take your shuriken. I’ve got those stakes.”

I pressed the star into her hand. “Stakes won’t cut meat. No, you need a sharp edge. Take it.”

I’d consider later what the implications were of parting with one of my treasured throwing stars. For now, Mei-Ling needed it more than I did.

Her eyes went to the boat, then back to me. “You sure you won’t come with me?”

“I’m sure. You just find your way home.”

A peculiar expression washed over her face, and as it did, I watched Mei transform from a child to a young woman. “I won’t be going home,” she said. “I’m going to get revenge.”

My reaction was instant and vehement. “No way. It’s not safe out there.”

She shook her head. “I can’t go home. You said it yourself. The vampires will kill my family.”

Tom had been readying the boat, but apparently he’d been listening because he interjected. “You think I’m a fool? I’m taking her to friends.”

Friends? I filed that away for later. If I ever saw Tom again, I’d ask who these friends were.

I looked at Mei-Ling, studying her, wondering if this would be the last time I ever saw her. I hoped it wouldn’t. “Maybe this isn’t good-bye.”

She smiled broadly. “Maybe it’s more like see you later.”

I laughed, but my eyes were serious. “Seriously, Mei. There’s some scary stuff out there. Be careful.”

She held up her instrument. “I’ve got my flute.”

“But I’m worried you’ll need me.”

She gave my arm a shake. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Drew.”

“Well, my world does.”

Tom had dragged the boat into the water, and it bobbed furiously in the breakers. He called to us, “Now or never.”

“I guess this is it.” I walked her to the water’s edge, frantically trying to think of whatever more words of wisdom I needed to impart. “If you see some tall rich bitch mean girl with hair the color of maple syrup, look out.”

She laughed. “Lilac?”

I could only shrug. “Who knows anymore what’s out there.”

She clambered into the boat, and Tom held it so we could finish our farewell. He wore thick rubber wellies on his feet, but still, the poor man was getting soaked.

“You be safe,” she told me. “And mind yourself.”

I stared hard, trying to read her meaning in the shadows of the sea cave. “Mind myself?”

“My grandmother had a saying. It’s a Chinese proverb. The loudest duck gets shot. So yeah, Drew, mind yourself.”

“You’re a pain, you know? And I’m going to miss you.” I leaned over the edge to give her a quick, hard hug, putting all my heart into it. I whispered good-bye in her ear.

But then I shoved her away.

And Tom pushed off, hopping in as the boat rose on the water. He revved the engine to life, and the overwhelming stink of petrol obliterated the goat smell. Mei-Ling nestled in the bed of hay, disappearing from view.

I stood there for some time, watching them fade into the distance. Watching my roommate as she made the escape I’d dreamed of.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

I wanted to mope. I wanted to hide. I wanted to avoid what hell might be awaiting me back on campus.

What would I say? What would my excuse be? Not only was I missing class, but I’d have to fabricate a pretend Draug attack and Mei’s death. Oh, and I’d also need to act surprised when people realized Masha and her pals had disappeared.

I bore the injuries to support the Draug story, but could I lie convincingly enough?

I couldn’t mope. I couldn’t hide or avoid. That thing deep inside me that’d survived my father, that was surviving Watcher training—that thing kicked in. It was my instinct to survive.

It was my will to live that got me shaking out my shoulders and kicking into a strong, steady run back up the beach. I was practicing my looks of surprise and dismay when I heard a weird noise.

I slowed to a jog, spinning a circle to see where it came from. The Draug had all gone, and even if they hadn’t, I was no longer so afraid of them. There were other, much deadlier things out there, and those were the things that I searched for now, scouring the horizon.

There it was again. A hissing, just barely audible over the crash of the waves.

I spun and spun, searching. What’d I been thinking, running along the water? I was too out in the open, with my back exposed.

Again it hissed. Then there was laughter, male laughter, deep and rolling. He hissed louder.

I spun once more, and there he was. Suddenly. Right there before me.

It was the vampire. The rogue vampire.

I knew the moment I laid eyes on him that this was the creature responsible for the murders. This was the thing that’d killed mercilessly and without reason, draining bodies dry and leaving them to rot like trash.

It wasn’t just the white hair that told me he was the rogue. This vampire was different. It was something in his manner—the way he studied me as though I were an alien creature. It was in the feel of him, too. He radiated power—I felt it like a tug in my gut. Like electricity penetrating me, rippling deep beneath my skin.

He was ancient. I felt it. He was beyond pale, his skin pallid, lacking any color whatsoever.

He was simply dressed and a lot less soiled than I’d have expected a rogue vampire to be. No, somebody was housing this creature. Cleaning his clothes. Weirdest of all, he wore sunglasses. I realized I’d never before seen a vampire in sunglasses.

I looked away, desperately scanning, searching for an escape route, even though I knew there wasn’t one.

He laughed, and compared to his hissing, it was a bizarrely human sound. “Such a pretty pretty.”

Cold dread washed over me, and I backed up. Slowly, I edged away from the water. This thing would probably kill me, but I refused to be drowned.

He followed slowly, his head tilting as he studied me. “Normally I wait until dark to feed. But I can’t avoid the pretty pretty.”

So creepy creepy. I backed away faster now. I inventoried my weapons: three stakes and three stars. Maybe if I could get to higher ground, I could figure something out.

He laughed again, chanting, “Here, pretty pretty.”

Cold sweat prickled my skin. I broke into a backward jog. He was so foreign to me, so terrifying, so powerful, and yet I couldn’t take my eyes from him. I went faster, even though I knew he could overtake me. He was toying with me. And it was working. My heart hammered in my chest, and I fought to breathe normally. My skin had gone clammy. I shot a quick glance at the hillside. It wasn’t so steep here. I’d spied the trail. If I could climb up, maybe I’d be able to make a run for it. Maybe someone would see me.

Maybe maybe maybe…

I spun and broke into a flat-out run, my arms pumping, sprinting as fast as I could. But the damned sand made it so hard. My feet chuffed and thumped along, and I grew winded quickly. But I made it to the bottom of the hill and instantly began to clamber up, using hands and feet to pull and hoist myself up and over.

I made it.

But then he appeared—he’d just jumped, and there he was, standing before me, blocking my path, whispering, “Pretty pretty.”

I tried to dart around him, but each time he’d appear in front of me. Laughing and muttering.

I thought maybe I could distract him, and I tried, asking ridiculous things, like, “Who are you?” and “Did you kill those people?” All the while, I wriggled my arm, working the stake out from my sleeve. My stars would do no good against this thing. My only chance would be if I surprised him. Finally, a stake slipped loose, slid into my hand, its tip concealed in my palm.