to hunt a rogue in the midst of a blizzard.
When I reach the tree, my prey is long gone. Having seen my approach, he must have retreated. The skin on the back of my neck tingles, and I turn, sure I’ll see him watching me. I don’t. I can barely see even a few feet in front of me. The thick, white blanket coating the earth is making it difficult even to track his footsteps.
I crouch, finding craters in the fresh snow, but the divots are quickly filled in. I curse and swipe my hand through it, smacking the fluff and sending it flying into a nearby bush.
Standing, I scan my surroundings. I consider shouting for Jasik, who should have reached my side by now, but I don’t. I can’t let the rogue know where I am. I take comfort knowing if I can’t see him, he can’t see me. I assume this is why Jasik hasn’t called for me since I left him behind to chase a rogue vampire.
I was careless. Hunting without a plan is never wise, but by now, Jasik is used to my recklessness in battle. I think with my heart, running steadfast into the dangerous unknown. My carelessness has gotten worse since I transitioned into a vampire, but I have yet to die. So I must be doing something right.
I trudge through the snow, the piles quickly reaching the top of my boots. My jeans are tucked into them, preventing the crystallized water from icing my already-cold skin.
My T-shirt is wet from being pelted by the snow, so I zip up my jacket. My heart sinks, mind numb to the realization. Normally, I wouldn’t ever do this. My jacket’s inner pocket is where I kept my stake. I needed it to be one quick swipe away from killing a vampire, and having to unzip my jacket would take far too much time.
But I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Mamá stole the weapon Papá gave me, and I doubt she’ll ever return it. For my remaining years as a hunter of rogue vampires, I will fight with someone else’s weapon. I feel like I betrayed my stake by being so careless with it. Regardless of what happened that night, I shouldn’t have been so distracted that I left it behind.
I hear something behind me, and I spin around to face my attacker—except I’m alone. No one is there. Again, I hear a noise, and I spin to face it. Over and over again, I spin, certain I will come face-to-face with the rogue who occupies these woods.
Spinning ’round and ’round, I’m lost. The world is blinding white. I can’t see anything but the constant assault of snowflakes peppering my face. My skin is slick—from nerves or the snow or both, I’m not sure—and I push back hair that clings to my moist forehead.
I fall to my knees. My heart is racing, my thoughts jumbled. My chest heaves and burns as I struggle to sift through the endless landscape before me. Hacking, I take in too much air. My overstretched lungs ache. I feel myself on the verge of a panic attack, so I try to calm myself, ignoring the danger lurking behind the sheets of snow encasing me. I may not be alone, but I certainly feel alone.
“You’re fine, Ava,” I whisper.
The back of my neck feels hot and sticky. I swipe my hand over the skin, rubbing my cold fingers against burning flesh to cool down. I scoop a pile of snow and press it to my neck. This works far better than my sleek, icy fingers.
My mouth is dry. I try to lick my lips, but my tongue sticks to the chapped skin. On my hands and knees, I stare at the ground. The snow is growing deeper with each passing second. My arms sink into its depths, and my wrists are no longer visible. Unable to see the ground or my own two hands, I feel as though I’ve been swallowed whole. I’m in the belly of the beast, and as I look around, I see no way out.
“You’re going to be okay,” I say.
This time, I speak more forcibly, and I catch the attention of the rogue. This time, I know I hear his approach. The earth shakes as he charges toward me. The echo of crushed snow is carried to my ears by the dry, lifeless air.
I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head, and I