"We need only one person to make this work." I yanked Nathaniel up the tower stairs, my grip iron on his wrist. "Alistair can sweep the forest and grounds faster than twenty men with torches. He'll understand without tedious explanations."
"He's not a person." Nathaniel's voice cracked like a whip behind me. "He's a vampire, Helena. You want to leave a human victim alone with two vampires?"
I spun on the narrow landing, nearly chest to chest with him. "Put aside your hatred for five minutes. Not every vampire is the monster that destroyed your family."
"They're all monsters—"
"Stop." My palm slammed against his chest. "We don't have time for your moral absolutes. Alistair is our best option. Our only option. Unless you'd prefer to explain to Maeve's corpse why your principles mattered more than her life?"
His jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth, but he nodded once. Sharp. Final.
I turned to Alistair's door, key already in my hand. The lock yielded with its familiar grind. We burst through.
Alistair sat by the window, a silhouette carved from shadow, staring into the night. He turned instantly at our entrance, gray eyes tracking from me to Nathaniel with predator's assessment.
"Something's happened." No preamble, no softness. "Only you can help."
"Maeve?" He rose in one fluid motion.
"The elder took her." Nathaniel stepped forward, professional despite the tension crackling between them. "North boundary, forty minutes ago. I heard the scream but reached the clearing too late."
"Show me."
We moved as one unit across the grounds, boots crushing frost in synchronized rhythm.
Nathaniel's voice cut through darkness, clinical and precise. "The elder prefers misdirection at torchlight's edge. Never direct confrontation. It'll draw you toward obvious bait while circling behind."
"Speed?" Alistair matched our pace without effort.
"Faster than anything I've tracked. Don't try to match it—you'll lose."
"Weaknesses?"
"Arrogance. It's survived three centuries. Makes it sloppy with smaller threats."
They spoke like soldiers planning assault, all personal hatred suspended for tactical necessity. We reached the tree line where shadows thickened to tar.
Alistair stopped abruptly. "Guard her."
"I've been guarding her for weeks." Nathaniel's voice carried acid restraint. "From you."
I caught my breath, the admission landing like ice water.
Alistair went perfectly still—that terrible stillness that preceded violence. "Clarify."
"You're a vampire." Nathaniel's hand drifted to his stake. "I don't trust your nature. The moment you slip, the instant human blood touches your tongue, I'll put silver through your heart." He paused, letting the threat settle. "But tonight, I'll let you save Maeve."
"Let me?" Alistair's laugh held no humor. "You'll let me?"
"Enough!" The word ripped from my throat. "Maeve bleeds out there while you measure your manhoods. Her life takes precedence over wounded pride and old oaths."
Alistair's gaze locked on mine, something shifting in those gray depths. He turned back to Nathaniel. "She's your responsibility. If I return to find her harmed—"
"You won't." Nathaniel's certainty rang absolute.
Alistair vanished into the trees with inhuman speed, swallowed by darkness before my eyes could track the movement.
Silence crashed over us. Wind rattled naked branches. Somewhere in that maze of shadow, my friend fought for her life while my husband hunted the thing that took her.
"Why was she following me?" Nathaniel's question cut through the quiet.
I turned to face him. "What?"
"Maeve. She'd been shadowing my patrols for days." His dark eyes bored into mine. "Watching my movements, cataloging my routines. Why?"
"I don't know—"
"Lie." He stepped closer. "She followed me tonight, didn't she? That's how the elder found her. She was trailing me through the grounds when it struck."
The weight of it crashed over me—Maeve's academic curiosity, her need to document everything, her fascination with the violence surrounding our estate.
She'd been studying Nathaniel like a specimen, and it had led her straight into the elder's path.
"Answer me." His voice dropped dangerously. "Why was your friend stalking a vampire hunter?"
Exhaustion slammed into me. My knees threatened to buckle. The pregnancy, the confrontations, the constant performance of normalcy while monsters circled our home—it all pressed down until I could barely breathe.
"I can't do this now." I turned toward the castle lights blazing in the distance. "I just can't."
"Helena—"
"No." I started walking, each step mechanical. "My friend is missing. My husband hunts an ancient vampire. The father of my child stands here interrogating me about things that no longer matter." My voice cracked. "I'm done answering questions tonight."
He fell into step beside me, matching my pace without comment. The castle grew larger with each stride, promising warmth and walls and the illusion of safety.
"She was curious." The admission escaped without permission. "Maeve catalogs everything. Collects knowledge like others collect jewelry. You were a mystery to solve."
"Her curiosity might have killed her."
"Yes." The word tasted like ash. "It might have."
We walked in silence after that, my vampire hunter escort and I, boots crushing frost in synchronized rhythm. Somewhere in that maze of shadow, my vampire husband pursued the monster that had taken my only friend. The night stretched around us, vast and hungry, waiting to see who would return and who would feed its appetite for noble blood.
The castle lights blazed ahead, still distant enough that darkness pressed thick between us and safety. Wind rattled through bare branches overhead, each gust carrying the metallic tang of coming snow.
"If Alistair doesn't find her—" The words scraped out raw.
"He will." Nathaniel's certainty cut through the dark. "Whatever else he is, he's a predator defending his territory."
"You sound like you almost respect him."
"I respect his capabilities." His stride never faltered, matching mine with hunter's precision. "That doesn't mean I trust him with your life."
"My life isn't yours to protect anymore."
"No?" He stopped abruptly, forcing me to turn. Moonlight caught the planes of his face, turning him into something carved from shadow and silver. "Then whose is it?"
I had no answer that wouldn't cut us both.
We stood frozen on the path, March wind howling between us, while the castle waited ahead with its false promise of safety. The ground beneath our boots seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what came next.