“I don’t feel anybody inside, but let’s go in and make sure.”
Again, Finn had answered her question before she could form it.
It vaguely irritated her that the vampire stepped forward and entered first to check the house, but Violet was too numb and drained to act on it.
As Finn examined the house, Violet took a step inside and inhaled deeply. The familiar scent didn’t have the same effect as it normally did, but she was grateful her body settled, if only an inch.
It wasn’t very warm, as she kept the thermostat low when she wasn’t home but having shelter from the biting spring wind was a bonus. In addition, she doubted the cold that had invaded her would ever go away now.
When Finn returned, it was clear he was satisfied with his search. “I checked everything, there’s no intruder. And nobody has tried to break in. Your windows are still locked.”
Violet nodded. She should have felt reassured, but still, nothing. Her feelings and emotions had dampened to the point where she knew they were there, but she didn’t feel them. She’d heard about trauma and PTSD. Was that what had happened to her? Could the memories still hidden inside her mind reveal the worst atrocities and explain her current reaction?
“Violet?” Once more, the vampire brought her back to the present and her surroundings. “You’re swaying on your feet. Maybe it would be a good idea for you to lie down. Go to bed. I’m gonna check with the Sentinels, make sure everything is under control. Ian told me they’ll be here any minute.”
Deep down, anxiety and fear stirred at the thought of Finn leaving, but the feelings didn’t blossom enough for her to act on them. What he’d said was logical, and like an automated doll, she nodded and shuffled toward her room.
Removing her shoes, she opened her drawer and took out her old flannel pajamas. She should take another shower, try to warm herself, but her body didn’t comply, and going to the bathroom seemed like an impossible task.
Instead, she turned on the heater and slid between the cold sheets. Huddled in a tight ball, trying to draw heat into herself, she ordered her eyes to close. Maybe if she could sleep, she wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable anymore.
Praying for a sense of peace, Violet closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
Chapter 6
Finn examined the land surrounding Violet’s small house, memorizing the layout, checking for anomalies, making sure the Sentinels were in place, but his gaze constantly turned back to the little cottage.
From the moment he’d found Violet, something had churned deep inside him, telling him to remain on alert. But why? Where did the danger he sensed come from?
The night was calm, and reassured the surroundings were quiet and the protection in place, he made his way inside.
Silence welcomed him, but he could feel Violet’s presence deeper in the house. Seeing perfectly in the dark, he spotted a small fireplace in the living room and decided to put it to good use. He’d noticed how Violet shivered constantly, and the dry heat would be helpful. Worrying about Violet was constant, now. She wasn’t well, physically or mentally, but it was no surprise. He’d felt her pain through their connection, the torture she had suffered, but she’d said she sported no wounds or cuts. How could that be possible?
Inside the crypt, he’d detected her scent even while noticing someone had used blood to draw symbols on the walls. How was that possible? The scents were too strong and blended into each other to know if it was the witch’s or not.
The blaze was picking up and Finn switched on a few lights. In the soft glow, the little house looked cozy and inviting. There was a simplicity and warmth about it. Everything was simple and comfortable. Worn, as if endless families had lived there since it’s construction. It made him think about those houses in Ireland he’d seen over the last century, nestled in valleys. Made of wood, they appeared fragile but withstood the harshest winds and rainfall, keeping their residents warm and safe.
He wandered around, checking the paintings hanging on the walls, the throw on the old sofa, and the knickknacks dotted around. Everything seemed old, dated. And then he remembered what Violet had said about her parents, and that vampires had killed them when she was a little girl. This was her parents’ house, and no doubt she’d kept it the same as it was when her parents lived there all those years ago.
Down the hallway, the master bedroom was empty and untouched. The only closed door was Violet’s childhood bedroom.
Finn finally understood the depth of the wound that tragedy had carved into the witch’s soul. Underneath all that sass and spice was a little girl who still cried over her loss. No wonder she’d hated him from the moment he’d entered her life.
Many hated vampires simply for who they were, or in reaction to the aura of legend that surrounded them. Her reasons were more painful and real. The fact she hadn’t severed his head from his shoulders on sight was a feat. She tolerated him, probably because he’d formed a sort of bond with Valeria. How could she have offered him blood twice? Violet knew enough to know it would create an enduring link between them. Was it to better find him and kill him later?
Finn shook his head at how much she’d suffered both in the past and in the present, and yet she still had a remnant of courage to enable her to reach for his help and not jump over that cliff. What happened in that beautiful red head of hers? What happened to her in that crypt?
His head filled with questions, he was about to return to the living room when he heard rustling, followed by a moan from Violet’s room.
Remaining still, Finn waited, but the silence didn’t return. Instead, the moans turned to
