Chapter 24

"Hunter established this as a home some time in the Gold Rush," Jack told Sarah as Brooke took a turn driving. He relaxed in the back seat as Kelly consulted a map. "He occasionally held parties here. Many say they were bloodfeasts. He also kept a few favourite humans as servants and blood supply. But after the Gold Rush ended, he got bored and went off, back across Europe, turning a few vampires and letting them live in this mansion just while they adjusted to the change. Nice, eh?"

Sarah didn't say anything.

"It's quite a gothic place," Jack continued. "Protected by high cliffs and ocean on three sides and flat-out rocklands on the other side. There are hundreds of tunnels penetrating the castles, plus a few half-finished tunnels that were apparently made by humans trying to escape. Some say those tunnels are now like a graveyard where they stuff corpses."

"Gothic castle around the next corner," Roseclear grinned, reclining in the backseat, pressed more than modestly close to Anthony. She was right like Sarah had known the vampire would be. It rose up and Sarah swallowed a disbelieving laugh. "That looks like a film set castle. Like Dracula should come flying out any second!"

The insulted look on Roseclear's face reminded Sarah how she shouldn't really mention pop culture references of anything to do with the phoney mythological things. Blade had been like that…in fact, she hadn't thought about Blade in a while. He might be there already, she realised with a sickened pang. What if he's searching for me? Thinks I've been hurt or something horrible? A chill crept up her spine at that: what have I done?

The castle had turrets as sharp as stakes and knives. The cliffs were sharp, jagged lines and the waves crashed higher and higher, feverish as though ravenously attracted to the thought of devouring the castle. Roseclear raised her face to the sky, and a breeze lightly, teasingly toyed with a strand of her dark hair. "Someone's been bleeding," she said in a voice perfectly suited for a psychopath thriller, a childish, macabre voice.

"Human or Nightworlder?" Jack demanded.

"Werewolf," Roseclear replied with a smile. "See? There's his fur." She pointed it out to them: a clump of sticky, coarse black wolf-hair. "He was chasing something and then it turned and bit him back."

"What bit him back?" Jack asked patiently as though used to playing Roseclear's games.

"A human," Roseclear said with a sweet smile as Sarah slowly walked forwards, skirting the blood-soaked fur. There was a shadow behind a clump of granite, shadowed by the gothic castle.

"Well that's great," Jack said in disgust. "It could have just been one of the servants trying to escape then."

Sarah cleared her throat as she came to a halt by the granite. "Does a human have a sword?" she asked softly, sadly and pointed at the fighter who was curled up. Immediately Jack reached down and touched the fighter's neck. It was hard to tell from all the blood whether the fighter was a girl or boy, just that they were young, perhaps nineteen or twenty years old. But the clothes were vaguely more masculine.

"He's alive," Jack said grimly and turned to Kelly who raised his hands warningly. "No, I'm not a nurse—"

"Put him in the car backseat," Jack ordered. "Please!"

"Please?" Sarah echoed and Kelly rolled his eyes. "Oh fine," he drawled and picked the youth up, carrying him back to the car and gently dropping him onto the leather. "You're never gonna get the blood off the leather," Kelly told Jack disgustedly.