Once I’d landed on this lower building, I ran around the edges once again.

While the building next to it wasn’t any lower, there were ledges that looked much thicker and easier to handle.

So I leapt again onto this second roof and, taking it slowly, managed to climb down to the ground on the overhanging balconies.

Now that I was on the ground, I lost no time in lurching forward.

I took a wrong turn a few times, but it wasn’t long before I found myself back on the promenade before the beach.

I ran across the sand and entered the water, holding Tobias up and kicking with my legs, propelling us toward the submarine I’d anchored about half a mile away from the shore.

I dragged him up to the submarine roof, opened the hatch and slid in with him.

Breathing heavily, I placed him down on a bed in one of the cabins and locked the door behind me.

Wiping sweat from my brow, I walked into the control cabin and picked up the phone Jeramiah had given me.

I flipped it open, expecting to need to go up to the roof to get a signal, but there was clearly something different about this phone.

It had a full signal already even in the thick walls of this submarine.

I slumped down into the chair, wiping sweat from my brow.

I navigated to his contact number and pressed dial.

I put the phone to my ear, listening to the rings.

The first.

The second.

The third.

He picked up after the fourth.

“Yes?” I swallowed hard.

“I think I’m ready to take you up on your offer.” There was a pause at the other end of the line.

“You were successful in creating a half-blood?” “He’s in transformation now.

I’ll know in a few hours.” “Call back then.” Jeramiah hung up and the line went dead.

I placed the phone down on the dashboard, staring at it as I chewed on my lower lip.

Tobias Cole.

I just had to hope that he would wake up as a half-blood and not a vampire.

I didn’t need a mad vampire for company.

I already had myself to contend with.

Chapter 7: Caleb

My brain was in a fog.

I found it hard to fix my mind on anything but the memory of Rose’s body burning into ashes by the lake.

It replayed over and over in my mind, a nightmare I couldn’t escape from.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since I’d last rested my eyes.

But even as Annora settled down to sleep, I should have known better than to drift off myself.

I should have suspected that she’d try something.

I sat bolt upright the moment I tasted it.

Warm blood.

Annora’s blood.

I hacked and spat, but it was too late.

Its sweet taste took hold of my senses and sent them into overdrive.

I staggered to my feet, gripping hold of the side of the boat as I glared at Annora.

The sight of her blood spilling from her palm only served to hasten my descent.

I lurched toward her, gripping her waist and slamming her back against the side of the boat.

I tugged roughly on her hair, pushing it away and giving me clear access to her neck.

She didn’t flinch as I broke her skin and dug my fangs deep into her neck.

She welcomed it.

Wrapping her arms tightly around my waist, she pulled me closer as she moaned my name.

At first, I didn’t understand why she didn’t scream or struggle.

I didn’t realize why she moaned with pleasure when I could have been moments from ending her life.

It wasn’t until I’d downed my fifth gulp of her blood that it dawned on me.

It was because she knew.

She knew what was happening.

She knew that with each gulp of her blood I took, the pain of losing Rose was ebbing away and being replaced with a burning, blind desire for Annora.

Chapter 8: Rose

“I want to go for a walk.” I placed my hands on my hips and looked sternly at Bella.

The ogress sat in the corner of the room, knitting what looked like a thick scarf.

I’d already tried to open the front door while Bella had been busy washing up in the kitchen, but it was locked fast.

And since one glance out of the windows told me that climbing out of them wasn’t an option, I had no choice but to resort to asking the ogress.

Bella rolled her eyes and gestured around the room.

“You can go for a walk here.

It’s a big room.” “No.

I have claustrophobia.

I need a more open space to stretch my legs.

You can escort me.” She stared at me, then shook her head.

“Not allowed,” she said, smacking her fat lips together.

“What kind of maid are you who won’t even take her mistress for a walk?” “Master’s orders.” I scowled at her and slumped down on the bed.

Her answer to everything was, “Master’s orders.” She still refused to tell me exactly where I was, and what exactly that bastard Anselm or the older man I’d come across had in store for me.

My eyes settled on the ring of keys fastened to her huge waist.

Then they raised to her face.

It had gone back to being full of intense concentration as she continued working on her knitting.

I stood up slowly and walked over to her.

I pulled up an ottoman and sat down next to her, pretending to adopt a sudden interest in her knitting.

I was trying to gauge how difficult it might be to unfasten the keys from her belt once she finally fell asleep—assuming she was to stay with me in my quarters.