Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,15

not going to go well for me. It’ll be all right, I promise. I was scared at first too, but there’s no reason to be. I remember thinking my life was over when I was turned, but it’s just the opposite, Abigail. There’s so much you don’t understand, so much you need to learn. That’s why you should be with your people.”

Looking at his open, sincere expression I felt bad. But I didn’t know him—or Imogen—or have any idea what a Bloodbound was or what this Bastion place was all about.

Until today, the bonfire at the Miller’s farm—which I now regretted attending—was as far away as I’d ever traveled from my small village. I’d never been to Virginia and had no desire to go there now.

I didn’t know what I wanted actually, but I couldn’t make any decisions until I’d seen my friends laid to rest. I owed them that much, and frankly, I needed the closure. I was still sort of in a state of disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” I told the big blond vampire. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. But this is my home. These are my people. I’m not going with you.”

His crestfallen expression was followed by a resigned nod.

“I’ll be at the Travelers Inn if you change your mind. And Abigail... you will.”

After he drove away, I found a spot near the Yoder’s buggy to sit and wait and begin the death watch for my friend.

7

Strong for the Both of Us

Three days later, Josiah went home.

I knew because I’d shifted my surveillance to his family’s farm. There were no sheltered hiding places near the hospital, and I’d nearly incinerated myself when I’d accidentally rolled out from beneath an SUV where I was sleeping.

But there was a large barn on the Yoder’s property with an empty, shaded loft. It was much safer and gave me a perfect vantage point of their house and yard.

During daylight hours, I slept in fits and starts, waking and shading my eyes to peer outside whenever I heard a wagon roll by. At night I sat awake, watching, and listening, and anticipating the once-and-for-all end of my life as I knew it.

Hannah and Aaron’s services had taken place two days ago. I’d been able to hear the words just fine from a safe distance and had added my own prayers to those of my former community members.

My family had been there, standing close together at the simple graveside service. Once my mother had lifted her handkerchief to her eyes, and I’d wondered if any of those tears were for me.

Observing them and the rest of the people I’d known my whole life moving on without me triggered the deepest loneliness I’d ever experienced. I was on the verge of just giving up and leaving.

That’s when I saw the Yoder’s buggy pulling into their driveway.

It was dark, but I saw Josiah clearly. He sat in the front seat next to his father, his posture straight and tall. In fact, he looked taller than he had before, which was strange.

He also looked incredibly healthy. His bruises and swelling were gone. His shattered limbs were once again intact.

I did it.

A weird mixture of elation and dread filled me at the realization I had succeeded in turning him.

He’s alive. This is a good thing. He’ll thank me.

Or hate me.

How I hoped that wasn’t the case. The fact that he was returning to his home with his parents meant they were handling the change in him much better than my own parents had handled my unexpected transformation.

Once again, the ache of loneliness swamped me.

I need to talk to him.

It had been days since I’d talked to a person. Josiah had to be filled with questions. I probably didn’t have many more answers than he did, but we’d figure this thing out together. The ache eased just a touch.

Moving in the shadows, I watched mother, father, and son unhitch the team of horses and go into the house without a word. The windows glowed to life, first downstairs and then in the upstairs bedroom.

Since I knew his parents’ room was on the first floor, I felt safe in assuming Josiah was alone up there.

It wasn’t hard to get to his window. A large White Oak grew beside the house on that side. I climbed it and walked out on the branch that jutted nearest his window. There inside it, Josiah sat on the end of his bed, shirtless.

My face went instantly hot. I’d never seen him—or any