Page 51 of Blood Bond

I asked one of the girls at Crevan's place if she felt the same energy from vampires. Her baffled look made me realise not everyone senses it, so I never brought it up again.

"Will he be alright with Layla?" I ask, thinking of Theo left alone in the house. It is one thing to be able to care for himself, but having a half-starved vampire who is desperate for blood, is another.

"The sunlight has calmed her. She won't wake until darkness falls," Seth assures me, referring to Layla's vampire nature.

My gaze drifts back towards the building, feeling eyes on me. It's probably Tasha, watching from somewhere within.

The quad bikes are neatly arranged and ready for our departure. Compact in design, they're clearly meant for solo riders. From this, it's evident that Seth has meticulously prepared for this day, or a day like it, having everything in its place, from the quad bikes to the bunker room at Skin Trade. He knew war was coming.

Even the house. Elena and Theo were the only residents before our arrival, a strategic decision by Seth, no doubt. Fewer confidants mean less risk of betrayal. This secluded estate must also serve as Seth's refuge from the demanding life of a vampire king.

We mount the quads, with Seth and Killian leading. They're deep in discussion, strategizing our route. Despite Seth's newfound ability to walk in sunlight, we aren't keen on testing his limits. We'll travel through shadows and hidden paths, using trees for cover, choosing routes that offer safety.

The drawback of these shadowy paths is the potential presence of the thirsty, but we expect to encounter only a few, not hordes.

Next to me, Naneve effortlessly climbs onto her quad, her long legs stretching out, her heavy boots planted firmly on the ground. I can't help but feel a bit out of place among them. Dressed in simple leggings and trainers, with a thick coat against the cold, I seem distinctly civilian next to their readiness for battle. Killian, in his black combat trousers tucked into sturdy boots, and Naneve, both embody the soldier's readiness for combat.

Elena emergesfrom the kitchen's back door, her attire striking a balance between combat readiness and casual practicality. She sports her version of combat trousers and sturdy walking shoes, resembling a mother ready to chaperone a children's outdoor activity.

"How's Theo this morning?" Seth inquires, concern evident in his voice.

"He's struggling without proper medication. The herbs are helping, but slowly. He's in pain," Elena replies.

Seth nods, his response firm. "I’m sure We'll find what's needed at St Mary’s so you can properly treat him."

A kind of silent understanding passes between them as Elena mounts her bike, pulling it from the shed's shadow and flinging off its cover. Her bike, dented and battle-worn, suggests a long history of similar outings. She aligns it with ours, inserting keys into the ignition.

My knowledge of mechanics is limited. My childhood was filled with dolls and toys, the intricacies of vehicles never caught my interest. My father handled that aspect of our lives, relegating cars to mere tools for transportation. The most I did was help him fill the fuel tank in my younger years.

Naneve, breaking into my thoughts, tosses a set of keys to me. I clumsily try to catch them, but they clatter to the ground. Leaning over to retrieve them, I almost slide off the quad, eliciting an eye roll and an audible sigh from her, her displeasure at my lack of coordination apparent.

Taking the keys Naneve tossed to me, I'm uncertain which one to use but choose the largest, imitating the others as I insert it into the ignition. Grasping the handle grip, I feel the bike shift slightly under my hand. I mimic Naneve's actions, pressing the pedal and twisting the handle. The bike sputters to life, jerks forward, then stalls, the engine cutting out.

Naneve's impatience is evident. “You can't even do this? What did you do in your pampered life?”

“I wasn't allowed outside,” I respond, my voice steady. It's not an excuse, but a fact. My life under Craven, while fraught with horrors, was also incredibly sheltered. We were kept hidden, our movements restricted and controlled, far from the normality of riding bikes or having any freedom.

“You've never ridden a bike?” Seth asks, a hint of amusement in his tone, devoid of Naneve's bitterness. It seems he momentarily forgot the constraints of my previous life. He wheels his bike back to mine, positioning it so closely our legs touch. “This is the throttle,” he explains, guiding my hand to the part of the handle I'd twisted. “You need to twist it to keep the bike going. The foot pedal powers the bike too. It's straightforward.” He indicates the brake levers. “Use the left one more than the right, or you’ll end up over the handlebars. We’ll go slow.”

He addresses the others, especially Naneve, outlining our formation. “Naneve will lead, Killian behind, then Elena, and I’ll ride beside you.”

Seth's patient explanation eases some of my apprehension. There's a comfort in his proximity, a reassurance in his presence.

Following his directions, I start the bike successfully, avoiding the earlier jolt. We set off, heading along the winding path that led to Seth's house. Instead of retracing our previous route, we venture in a new direction, skirting the property's expansive wall. Its sheer length amazes me, stretching miles around the estate.

Emerging onto a narrow dirt track, our journey to the hospital is considerably shorter than the trip from Skin Trade. We navigate through shadows and trees, veering off the path occasionally. The derelict park we cross, with its rusted gates and overgrown bandstand, speaks of a forgotten era. Nature has reclaimed the once-vibrant space, entwining itself around the structures. The remnants of a bygone age – an ice cream stand, a boat rental booth – are now hollow shells, their former glory ravaged by time and neglect.

The presence of ducks on a large, desolate lake surprises me. Decaying paddle boats hint at happier times when families might have enjoyed leisurely afternoons here. We ride around the lake, under the cover of trees, over broken paths, and across stone bridges spanning the water.

The road leading to the hospital is just as damaged as the rest of the landscape, with the sun's heat warping the tarmac. Non-functioning traffic lights are entangled in overgrowth. The hospital itself, with its faded sign, stands as a testament to the devastation that has swept through the area.

Seth signals for us to halt. We align in formation, with me positioned in the middle. "Killian and I didn't get far inside last night," Seth explains. "There may be thirsty lurking, so stay vigilant."

Naneve unsheathes her blade, ready for confrontation. Killian and even Elena reveal their weapons – hers noticeably smaller than Killian’s massive blade.

A sudden realisation hits me. "I forgot my weapons," I admit, panic rising. I had left the belt Seth gave me, with its attached knives, back at the house.

“Of course, you did,” Naneve says.

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