Chapter 7
River
Laurie was still trembling, her breath hitching in short, panicked gasps, but at least she was no longer swinging a metal bar at our heads. Progress, I guess? I kept my arms around her, rocking slightly, viscerally aware of the invisible thunderstorm that clung to her body like Dylan’s shadows.
She had calmed down, to some extent. Her fingers curled tightly into my jacket, knuckles whitening with the intensity of her grip, but she wasn’t pulling away. I chose to take that as a good sign.
Dylan and Amara stood a few feet off, watching with the identical expressions of two people who had no idea what the hell just happened.
“Uh…” Dylan began when I caught her eye over the top of Laurie’s head. “Do you know her?”
I shrugged, wary of spooking Laurie, and hissed out, “Kinda? It’s a long story.”
That didn’t help their confusion, but I wasn’t about to pause for a group discussion. Laurie’s panic had quieted into a trembling hush, but I could feel the tension buzzing under her skin. Getting her this far had felt like dismantling a bomb—cut one wrong wire and she would explode.
Amara cocked her head, watching me sway what was obviously a very stressed-out human being in my arms. “And she just… happened to be here?”
“That’s the part I’m still figuring out,” I muttered, still focused on soothing Laurie’s erratic breathing.
Laurie, for her part, seemed too exhausted to contribute any meaningful answers.
Her whole body sagged in my grip, the fight drained out of her.
She was jelly in my arms and her eyes were glassy, unfocused, staring at some point beyond me.
I lifted a hand to stroke back her hair, and she choked out a sob at the slight touch.
I sighed, shifting my hold on her so her head lay flush against my chest. “We need to get moving,” I murmured. “Security’s bound to have heard all that commotion.”
Dylan folded her arms, clicked her tongue. “We’re not taking her with us—”
“We can’t leave her here!” I raised my voice and then winced, glancing down at Laurie. But she barely registered the outburst. She was a vacant, dead weight in my arms. Something was… not quite right with her, though I’d known that from the moment I met her.
Dylan was still eyeing Laurie with suspicion, painted lips pulled into a scowl. “We can’t just—”
“She’s coming with us.” I cut her off, already adjusting my grip on the teary-eyed woman in my arms and hauling myself to my feet.
I lifted Laurie, and my breath throttled in my throat when I registered just how light she was. Once I’d noticed that, I noticed a lot more: under her jacket and layers of padding, she was little more than skin and bone.
Laurie made a soft sound of protest, but she didn’t put up much of a fight as I tucked her against my chest, one arm against her back and the other swept under her knees.
I shot a pointed look at the other two—a look that said I wasn’t budging on this. “Let’s get out of here.”
Dylan grumbled under her breath but didn’t argue further. Amara shot me a questioning glance but then went on to scout ahead, and soon enough we were slipping out of the ruined Ikea with one shivering addition to our party.
The diner we ended up at was the kind of place that never closed, with cracked vinyl seats and a lingering scent of burnt coffee. It wasn’t exactly cozy, but it was pretty much empty, and that was good enough.
Laurie had found her voice about halfway there, and wriggled out of my arms with a few sharp curses. But she didn’t bolt. She allowed me to guide her into the diner, though she kept her head swiveling between the three of us all the while.
I ushered her into a booth and she immediately curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her middle. Her exhaustion was written all over her face but she still managed to maintain a defiant—albeit slightly panicked—glare.
I slid in across from her, cautious and quiet. “You all right?”
She eyed me warily. Her gaze slid to Dylan and Amara hovering at the end of the table and then migrated back to me—brimming with suspicion. “What do you think?”
Fair enough.
Dylan and Amara slid into the booth beside me, the former still scowling profusely and the latter sneaking concerned glances at Laurie like she wanted to check her over for injuries.
Laurie, meanwhile, seemed just as confused as she was distrustful. She watched the three of us and we watched her right back, and the only sound in the room was the radio warbling out a pop song from a bygone era.
“All right.” I exhaled eventually, ending the cold war across the table with what I hoped looked like a reassuring smile. “Wanna tell me what the hell you were doing back there?”
Laurie tensed, and her eyes flicked briefly around the room like she was scoping out the quickest exit route. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“You first,” I said gently, placing my hands flat on the table where she could see them.
She didn’t speak right away, just stared at me like she was trying to gauge my intentions. It was the kind of stare that made me wonder how many lies she'd been fed in the past—and how many she'd believed. Or hadn’t, and suffered for it.
Beside me, Amara shifted slightly. She hadn’t said much yet—her worry came in softer shapes. Subtle glances, the furrow of her brow, the way her hand hovered a little too close to Laurie’s side of the booth, like she was afraid the girl might shatter any moment.
It made sense. Amara had seen that kind of fear before. She had felt that kind of fear before. When she’d first learned what Dylan really was—a vampire, a powerful one—she’d nearly fallen apart. She probably saw some version of herself in Laurie, and it made her ache.
That was probably why she was keeping her mouth shut, too. She was hellbent on hiding her fangs.
Without a word, Amara slid one of the laminated menus across the table toward the human woman. She flipped it open and tapped a finger next to the listing for bottomless diner coffee, then looked at Laurie with a small, hopeful lift of her brows.
Laurie stared at her like she’d grown a second head. Her expression didn’t soften—in fact, it sharpened. She raised a brow, suspicious and scorned, and then slumped deeper into her seat.
Amara looked quietly crushed.
Laurie noticed.
She turned her face toward the window, jaw clenching. I didn’t miss the way her shoulders curled inward, like she was trying to hide from her own guilt. She looked pissed off—but not at us. At herself. Like she'd caught the instinct to apologize and wanted to take it out back and shoot it.
“Look,” she muttered eventually, “the three of you being nice doesn’t mean I’m gonna drop my guard. I know what you’re doing. I know what you're really up to.”
Dylan, predictably, narrowed her eyes and glanced at me. “What the hell is she talking about?”
I waved a hand, brushing her aside without looking. My attention was locked on Laurie. “What are we really up to, exactly?”
Laurie’s brows flicked upward like I’d asked a trick question. “You’re working for them, right? The organization? Look, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing but—”
I tilted my head. “What organization?”
Laurie paused and studied me for a beat, like she was watching for cracks in my confused expression. She expected a facade—so I gave her transparency.
I spread my palms skyward and held her gaze. “Look, this isn’t an interrogation. If you don’t want to tell us what you were doing snooping around a crime scene, that’s fine. But we’re not part of whatever organization you’re referring to.”
Laurie’s stare intensified, and I stared back, unblinking. After a beat, something shifted in her expression. “Wait…” she said, her voice going quiet and careful, like she was putting puzzle pieces together mid-sentence. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“No,” I said slowly, brows knitting together, “I really don’t.”
A long silence followed. Laurie stared at the tabletop for a beat, then back up at me. Her next words, when they came, weren’t a question. They were a confirmation.
“But you’re vampires.”
All three of us stiffened. Even Amara, who up to this point had been fiddling with the menu, froze mid-fuss. Dylan’s eyes flicked to mine. I didn’t look at her. I kept my gaze on Laurie—her wiry frame, her defensive posture, the storm behind her eyes.
I took a gamble.
“Yes,” I said finally. Calm. Clear. “We are.”
Laurie’s jaw tensed, but I could see she’d already made peace with that part. It confirmed my suspicions—she was already familiar with the supernatural world. The real surprise for her had been our reaction to her snooping. Or lack thereof.
“But we’re not part of any organization,” I added. “Whatever it is you think we’re involved in… we’re not.”
Laurie didn’t relax, not even a little. Her hands were still balled into fists against her thighs, her back pressed so tightly to the booth I worried she might assimilate with the vinyl.
I leaned forward slightly. “What is this organization?”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, quick and sharp. For a second, I thought she might bite back again, clam up like before. But something in my voice must’ve landed differently this time, because she hesitated.
Then Dylan, ever the contrarian, chimed in. “Just because we’re vampires doesn’t mean we’re like, evil. That’s actually kinda rude to assume.”
I went to kick her under the seat, but Amara promptly beat me to it.
“Sure.” Laurie snorted, but it wasn’t amused—it was bitter. “But I know what you're capable of.”
“Dylan,” I warned when the vamp opened her mouth to bite back a scalding retort. She sat back and shrugged, unrepentant, but not pushing further either.
I turned back to Laurie. “Tell me about this organization. We’re investigating something too. Maybe we can help each other out.”
She studied me—really studied me—and whatever she found in my eyes must have soothed her slightly. Her shoulders eased the tiniest fraction.
“I was at the Ikea because I was suspicious,” she said at last. Her voice was quiet. “Reports of missing people. Witnesses too scared to talk, or who swear they saw monsters and then recant a day later.” Her jaw clenched. “There’s a pattern. And I’m trying to trace it.”
“And this… organization?” I pressed.
“I don’t know what they call themselves. But they’re not like you.” Her eyes narrowed. “They don’t pretend to be normal.”
“We’re not pretending,” Amara murmured, almost too softly to hear.
Laurie didn’t look at her. “Not all of them are vampires. Some of them are human. Some of them are… something else entirely,” Laurie continued. “I’ve seen what they do. I’ve seen people taken. Changed.” She looked down. “And I want to stop them.”
There was a long beat of silence.
I looked at Dylan. She was already staring back, unreadable as ever, but I saw the subtle raise of her brow.
It was a silent exchange, but we both understood what it meant.
This was bigger than a random string of accidents or unrelated attacks.
Someone out there was actively recruiting—or experimenting on humans in the city.
Turning people and covering up the evidence.
And Laurie had seen it firsthand.
Laurie noticed the look pass between us and her eyes narrowed. She pulled back abruptly in the booth. “I need the bathroom,” she blurted out, already sliding away before I could scrounge up a response.
I watched her go, but didn’t move. Not at first.
A minute ticked by and I looked to the other two. “You think it’s connected? The recent attacks and this… organization?”
“It might be,” Dylan muttered, running fingers through her hair. Then she jerked her chin in the direction of the bathroom. “But how do you know we can trust her?”
“I don’t.” I sighed, limply signing the words for Amara. “But she’s definitely onto something. And she’s certainly spooked. She knows more than she’s letting on, that’s for certain.”
Another minute went by. And Laurie still hadn’t returned.
I stared at her empty seat—and then it clicked. Surely not…? “Do you think she—”
“Yeah,” Dylan groaned, slumping over the table. “Yeah, she definitely bolted.”
I blinked, then swore. “Shit.”
I pushed out of the booth and jogged toward the back hallway of the diner. The door to the bathroom was swinging slowly on its hinges. I pushed inside and scanned the cubicles.
Empty. No sign of Laurie.
The window above the sink sat wide open, just big enough for a particularly skinny body to wriggle through.
“Goddammit.” I palmed a hand to my face, inwardly kicking myself for letting her out of my sight.
“Called it.” Behind me, Dylan’s voice echoed lazily down the corridor, adding insult to injury. “You really have a way with women, you know that?”