Between a Vamp and a Hard Place by Jessica Sims Page B

January 8, 1763. William de Beauchamp, died January 8, 1763. There were no other Frederics or Williams. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Rand. It looks like they died two hundred fifty years ago. Same day.” I looked at the small urns. “These must be their ashes.”
    â€œThat . . .” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat. “That must be why they felt so faint. It doesn’t feel the same as when they were alive. More like an echo or a memory.” His fists clenched and he turned away, his head bent.
    I bit my lip, hurting for him. I’d started tonight hoping we’d find a vampire, and now we had two dead ones. There was no happy friend to drop Rand off with. No pleasant reunion for him. His friends were gone. Long gone. And he was the only one that remained. Tears pricked my eyes. “Maybe . . . maybe there’s a secret door or something, like where I found you. Maybe they’re just hiding.”
    â€œThey’re dead,” he said harshly. “I knew it, but did not want to believe.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come. We shall leave this place.”
    â€œBut what about your other friend?” I struggled to think of the name. “Guy? Do you feel him? You said you could feel all three of them, right?”
    â€œI feel Guy,” he said as I stepped out of the mausoleum and shut the door quietly behind me. “I feel him, and I do not know what to think. He is faint, but his echo moves back and forth, unlike the others. They were static. So he is alive. I get pulses of emotion from him.”
    â€œThat’s good, right? We can find him and you can go visit him?”
    Rand’s hollow gaze turned to me. “And if he was the one that staked me? The one that destroyed William and Frederic? What then?”
    My eyes widened. “Do you think he did that? I thought you were like brothers.”
    â€œI thought so, too, but yet here I am.” He spread his arms. “Betrayed. And William and Frederic were destroyed together. The same year. The same date. If it was Guy that did it, should I run to him and embrace him like a brother?”
    â€œWhat are you going to do?”
    â€œI am going to find out who did this,” Rand said, voice even. He took my hand in his and escorted me down the steps of the mausoleum. “We are going to find Guy, and we are going to get answers. And if it was Guy that betrayed Frederic and William and trapped me, then I will pull his heart from his chest and feed it to him.” His hand fell to my shoulder, possessive. “And I will need your help to do so, Lindsey. You must remain my blood vassal and my guide in this quest.”
    Yep. Somehow, I’d known he was going to say that. “Rand, I don’t know,” I stammered. “I need to get back and help Gemma with the apartment. There’s so much work to be done, and all of our finances are riding on things—”
    â€œBut you must help me, Lindsey.” Rand brought my hand to his lips—still warm from his stolen blood—and kissed the back of it. “For you are the only person I have left.”
    Aw, jeez. How could I say no to that?

Eight
    O kay,” I said, trying to keep calm. “We’ll get this figured out. First things first. We’ll get a hotel, call Gemma, regroup, and decide what our next steps are to get you settled.” I pulled out my cell phone. “This is just a setback. We—”
    I swallowed the rest of my words because he grabbed my hand and began to drag me through the graveyard. “Um, Rand?” I stumbled behind him, narrowly missing tripping over a headstone. “Where are we going?”
    â€œWe are going to find weapons. I will not go around this city without protection.”
    â€œWe can’t carry weapons!”
    His hand tightened on mine, and his fingers felt less warm than before. “My friends are dead,” he