Author's Note:

Tapas limits chapter sizes, so I had to split chapter 19 into two parts with the same name - Chapter 19a and 19b.

Butterflies fill my stomach. “My-my master sent me… to fetch him some pork.” Though I hate the idea of calling Rahlan my master, it does make me appear like an obedient slave just following orders.

He glares at me.

“He’s over there,” I point at our tent, “I can take you to him if you desire, sir.”

He doesn’t move.

I remain frozen. I’m bluffing, but I’d rather be in trouble with Rahlan than this man.

He strikes his knife against the table, making me flinch.

“Then go on.” He gestures at the large piece of meat he’s just cut.

I cautiously reach to take the pork, keeping a close eye on his knife.

“Thank you, sir.” I spin around and hurry towards the tent, eager to get out of that conversation as soon as possible.

Once I’m far enough to be sure he can’t see me, I change direction and make a beeline back to the humans.

At the sight of the meat, Jaclyn’s face shows the most expression I’ve ever seen from her. She’s stunned, and maybe even a little excited. I’ve got enough pork for her and a few others. I try my best to keep the large portion close to my chest to hide it from the vampires. Feeding the prisoners clearly isn’t one of their priorities, and I fear they may consider it a waste of food.

I take a seat on the grass and hand her the pork. She tears a piece off for herself and passes it to the girl beside her.

“I’m impressed.” She takes a bite.

A man tears off a mouthful and passes the pork on. I appreciate that they’re all sharing. Everyone will get at least a few bites.

“The vampires must like you,” a scruffy girl says as she tears off her portion. She framed it as a harmless remark, but I understood the underlying message.

I pull the hem of my tunic up to my belly button, just long enough to let her get a glance at the stomach bruises left over from Rahlan’s attack. “Not that much.”

Though it may not appear so to them, this has been anything but a cakewalk. Rahlan’s dragging me along because he thinks I’m his link to finding Ivan. I don’t want to find out what he’ll do to Ivan when he reaches him, or what he’ll do to me when he learns that I’m Ivan’s niece.

“Well you have my thanks, Julia.” An older brunette woman says, “I’m Mathilda, but you can call me Mattie.”

“You have all our thanks,” a man says.

I smile, but my gaze falls to the grass. They’re still chained up, treated like cattle. I wish I could do more. I wish I could get them out of this place, but I can’t even manage that for myself.

The whole group stiffens. They quickly hide their food, slipping it in their shirts or behind their backs. I whip around and jump to my feet.

There’s a hulking vampire just a foot away from me. He has black hair like Rahlan, with the same pale skin all vampires share. I sidestep around him, but his hand lands on my shoulder.

“I’m thirsty,” he growls.

I pull my collar back to show Rahlan’s recent bite mark. “I’ve already been drunk from today.”

A blow hits my side, sending me tumbling over the grass. I groan, clamping my arms over my aching ribs.

Before I have a chance to regain my bearings, he forces me flat on my back and straddles me, keeping my body down with his weight.

“I don’t recall asking, stupid human,” he spits.

My fingers scratch against the dirt, trying to pull myself out from under him. He leans in close, homing in on my neck.

I can’t get a proper grip on the loose ground. His weight compresses my middle, making the pain from the bruises flare up again. I gasp.

“Only my master can drink from me!” I blurt out in a desperate effort to get him to back off.

He ignores my warning, and his fingers pull back the tunic’s collar, revealing my vulnerable skin. My body shivers at the feeling of his warm breath rolling over my neck.

I grab a fistful of loose dirt and shove it in his eyes. He whacks my hand away and pulls back with a groan.

A hard slap hits my cheek. I ignore the stinging pain and shovel another handful of soil into his face.

He shields his eyes with one hand and chokes me with the other. I grab his arm on instinct, but it’s impossible to move.

He clamps down, cutting off my air completely. My fingers dig through the soil, desperately searching for something solid.

A stone is placed in my hand. Thank you, Jaclyn. The vampire is still trying to get the dirt out of his eyes. I swing the stone into the side of his head. He wails and falls off me. I can breathe again.

I scramble to my feet. A layer of dirt is caked onto my back from the pressure. The vampire groans on the ground with his hands on his head, and the humans stare at me with wide eyes. I take off, running as fast as I can towards our tent.

“You’re dead!” the vampire screams. I look back to see he’s already after me, seemingly uninjured. How can he just get up after a blow like that?

All eyes are on me, watching the spectacle unfold.

I reach the tent, but where’s Rahlan!? I spin in a circle searching for him. There’s a figure in a cape by Mittens. I sprint to him and crash into his back, almost knocking him over.

He whips around, but I grip onto his cape like I’m holding on for dear life. My breathing is heavy, and adrenalin is coursing through my veins.

“Hand over that human!” the vampire shouts. There’s blood dripping down the side of his face, mixing with the grass and dirt stuck to his cheek, but he stands tall like the injury is nothing more than a scratch.

Rahlan rests his hand on my shoulder. My fingers remain clamped tight around the cape’s fabric. I can’t take on a vampire almost twice my size. Was I supposed to just lie there and let him suck me dry?

“Did my little human best you in combat?” Rahlan asks.

“I’m going to beat her until her insides are outside!”

“You will do no such thing.” Rahlan pulls my hands off his cape and approaches the bleeding vampire. He’s even taller than Rahlan.

“There’s a score to settle!” the vampire shouts.

Other vampires begin to crowd around the scene, Ohan and Theron included.

“She is my property, so her actions are my responsibility.” He pulls back his cape, revealing his sword. The bleeding vampire glances down at the blade on his own belt. “If there’s a score to be settled, then we will make the square, and settle it,” Rahlan says.

The vampire growls, but Rahlan remains unphased, waiting for an answer. It’s almost like he’s looking forward to it.

The vampire grabs the hilt of his sword but keeps it in its sheath. His once pale face is red with anger.

Rahlan doesn’t move. Their gazes are locked on one another.

The vampire glances at the gathering crowd. They are forming a square around the two of them.

A hand rests on my shoulder, making me flinch, but I relax when I see it’s just Ohan. He leads me away, and vampires fill our places to complete the square, with Rahlan and the angry vampire alone in the center.

“She’ll get hers,” the vampire grunts. With one last scorn, he turns away and slips between the crowd.

The group of vampires murmur to one another, disappointed that a dual ended before it began. They disperse, returning to taking down tents and packing up supplies.

Ohan follows them, leaving me alone with Mittens.

Rahlan’s gaze lands on me, and his eyes run up and down my body. He pulls my collar back on either side to inspect my skin, then he lifts my arms and runs his fingers down my ribs.

“I’m fine,” I say.

He steps back. “Would I be correct assuming it was self-defense?”

I nod.

He looks in the direction where the bleeding vampire hobbled off, then glances back at me.

Without further questioning, his attention returns to Mittens.

I stand beside him for safety, picking the grass out my long hair. “You know, I’d be even better at defending myself if I had a knife.”

He chuckles. “Though I imagine the number of altercations would only increase.”

After his bag is packed, he lifts me up by my hips and places me on Mittens. It’s a little scary how easily he can carry me.

He climbs on the saddle, trapping me between his arms like before. The men stream off from the campsite in a thin line, and we continue traveling.