Free Mistwalker by Naomi Fraser Page B

sunhat. Sunglasses. She bolted to her dresser and threw them into a large woven bag along with spare panties, change, and the spare mobile phone in her vanity drawer.
    “Assholes with teeth,” she muttered and pulled out the box from the top of her cupboard. She tossed knuckle dusters, nun-chucks, a knife and mace onto the bed, but tucked the ninja stars into her back pockets and the nun-chucks into the back waistband of her jeans. The rest she put into the bag then picked up the stool by her dressing table and smashed the chair against the wall.
    The plaster caved in, and the fluffy pink seat rolled off, but the wooden legs came apart in her hands. Four stakes. Nothing else would fit inside her bag, but she couldn’t leave without her toothbrush. She hurried to the bathroom, splashed disinfectant onto her wrists, and the liquid hissed in the wounds. She gritted her teeth.
    The front door crashed open, and the bathroom mirror rattled. She glanced up into its surface. The shower stall reflected back in the glass. No reflection. She had no reflection.
    Hell!
    She concentrated on the picture of a small cave she used to play in as a child and sent out a prayer that she’d make it.
    The bathroom door slammed open, but she was gone.
     
     

Chapter Eleven
     
     
     
    Grandfather had warned Juliun that Simone caused havoc at the hospital and maybe she would have done the same at Ravenkeep. However, Juliun never really listened, and he couldn’t blame the others when the fault landed squarely on his shoulders. He didn’t want to swallow that pill. His unintended threat to her friend forced her to leave. He’d done that, no one else. He’d bungled the most important matter in his life.
    He scrutinised the group seated at the long table, and denial clogged his throat at their guarded expressions. Gazes danced away from his. His chest tightened. Had something happened to his bride in his absence? She hadn’t…?
    “Tell me.”
    Servants hovered with trays of blood and bowed at his sudden presence. “ Your Highness.” Their harmonious tone contrasted starkly to the uncomfortable silence in the meeting room.
    “Juliun.”
    He stiffened at the sound of his mother’s voice, and he closed his eyes, readying himself for the blow.
    Lissanne placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right, son?”
    Her gaze moved over his face, his hair, down the length of his shirt slashed open at the neck, his ripped pants, one good shoe and one bare foot covered with dried mud. “What…on earth happened to you?” she asked, delicately.
    Little black and white dots danced in front of his eyes. He swayed, nausea digging into his stomach, but he leaned against the table and shifted his gaze between Vaughn and Sanchez. “Tell me.”
    Vaughn met the stare unflinchingly. “We haven’t found her. And...” he hesitated, “We discovered Lars is missing.”
    Juliun cursed. The shine of the mahogany table faded in and out. Dire thoughts of a hungry, weak vampire on the loose with his newly turned bride ran amok through his mind. “He is too hungry. If our enemies get hold of him, they will know what happened with her…” He couldn’t finish that train of thought. “We need to step up the search. Lars’ mind is too easy to break. He cannot prevent anyone from seeking his memories.”
    “You should rest.” Lissanne resumed her seat. “You’ve done nothing but search. Let Radu take up the trail. He will leave no stone unturned.”
    “No doubt, but Grandfather’s place is here. She could bite another. Walk into sunlight.” Juliun clenched his fists. Searing pain slashed away at his insides at the thought of losing her. “I have to be out there looking.”
    One taste of her blood and a few glimpses of her face weren’t enough. Not nearly enough. He didn’t think he could bear not having her in his life now. He had so much to share, to give, and without her the emptiness might totally consume him. How could he have been so