to come.
A fter the vampire left, Quinn sat on the bed, staring into the room as her heart rate slowly leveled off. An oil lamp glowed dimly on the dresser, its light dancing with the shadows on the ceiling. Damn the vampire for waking her from a sound sleep. At least in sleep, she could escape the terrible pressure on her chest, the grief and the helpless frustration.
A distant scream sounded outside. A male scream, a horrible one, which made her forehead turn hot and throbbing. Please, God, don’t let it be Zack. Then again, at least it would mean he was still alive.
The sound of the door’s opening had her stiffening, but it was only Ernesta with another tray. How long had she slept? Long enough to be hungry again.
As the woman cleared the door, Horace pulled it shut behind her, leaving the women alone. They weren’t taking chances, were they? At least the vampire hadn’t ordered her tied again.
“Your lunch.” The woman carried the tray around the bed to the washstand without looking Quinn’s way.
“Thank you, Ernesta.”
Quinn glanced at the door. In a moment, Horace would open it again to let Ernesta out. Could she possibly shove her way past them? Unlikely. If the vampire thought she could escape Horace, he’d never have sent her with him last night. She wasn’t even sure the man was human, not with that shimmery beard.
No, she’d find a better opportunity. Better to wait until . . .
The bed beneath Quinn lurched suddenly, nearly knocking her over. Ernesta screamed and clutched the nearest bedpost.
What the hell?
The entire house began to rattle. Was this an honest-to-goodness earthquake or something else?
Ernesta clutched the bedpost, her eyes squeezed shut. And Quinn realized that this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. If she had the nerve to take it.
For Zack? Hell yes. She’d do anything.
Not giving herself a chance to think about it too fully, she slipped off the bed, grabbed the ceramic water pitcher off the washstand and, with a stab of guilt, swung it at the back of the shorter woman’s head. She hit her hard, remembering too well Ernesta’s assertion that she wasn’t human. To Quinn’s relief and sick dismay, the woman sank to the floor.
Quinn stared at her. What if I’ve killed her? She’d never attacked anyone outside a Tae Kwon Do sparring match. She had no idea how much force was enough, let alone too much.
But it was done. Forcing herself to focus, she slammed the pitcher against the wall, shattering it, then picked up a large, sharp piece and began to yell. “Help! She’s injured!” She raced for the door, leaping behind it just as Horace lunged into the room. Quinn slipped out, slamming the door shut, and throwing the bolt.
“Hey!” the shout rumbled from inside, loud enough to bring every member of the household running.
Bright light flooded the small foyer and the stairs in a sudden, startling burst, as if someone had turned on the sun. Screams rang out both inside and out. Energy danced over her skin.
This was it! Another sunbeam. Her pulse pounded. She was finally going to learn if she could leave Vamp City the same way she’d entered.
She flew down the stairs, threw the bolt, and flung open the front door to an extraordinarily welcome sight—a wide sunbeam cutting across the dirt street a yard in front of her. And in that sunbeam, her world, cars zipping past, people walking along the sidewalk.
“Master!” Horace yelled from behind the locked bedroom door. “She’s escaping!”
Quinn lunged forward. Just as it had before, the energy caught her, tingling along her arms, raising the hair on her body and head as it pulled her through. This time she was ready and only stumbled onto the sidewalk instead of falling. Her world. The sun.
Dodging a trio of businessmen in suits, she whirled, backing away as she stared at the now-sunlit Vamp City house she’d just left, the door she’d flown through still wide open. Arturo’s house. From