Rebels [Blood Magic, Book 4]

Chapter 20: Moving Day

"Clever," I said, stuffing a couple fries into my mouth, not even bothering to dip them in ketchup first. I was surprisingly hungry given how full I'd felt earlier.

Sounds of eating filled the van; the jovial conversation replaced with a shared impatience to get back on the road and reach our destination. When we were done, Ephraim collected our garbage and took it outside.

I scooted across the seat, closer to Keel. "I need some blood," I said half under my breath. I refused to appear fragile and injured as we walked into our new home. We needed people to believe in us, believe in our power. It was the reason for the weres' beyond generous blood donation and why Keel would not argue about giving me a top-up now. We were close enough to our destination that it would carry me across the home stretch.

Once back on the highway, he shifted beside me, offering me his neck. I slipped my fangs in and drank softly, hoping not to attract the attention of Lucia and my father. You'd think after all those weeks in the were infirmary, I'd have gotten used to feeding in front of an audience, but I hadn't.

Since Keel's blood didn't make me sleepy, I was able to get a look at our new city as Ephraim navigated the mostly deserted streets. They'd come to life soon, when the sun rose and the workaday world demanded bodies for its unending machine of commerce and revenue. But now, in the predawn hours, it was quiet and peaceful.

"Here we are," Ephraim said, steering the van to the curb in front of a nineteenth-century brick church. I leaned across Keel's lap to get a better look at it through the window. Set back a fair distance from the road, it was fronted by a massive set of steps that led up to a pair of wide, oversized doors. The building had seen at least three additions in the dozen or so decades it had been standing, but that care and attention had faded years ago.

"There are a few basic glamours and shields on it," Ephraim explained, "so humans won't notice the frequent comings-and-goings of those lodged here, or the deliveries, or the twenty-four-hour construction noise."

I nodded, taking in the rest of the neighbourhood. A conventional mix of houses and low rises, peppered with pockets of shops and offices. Sidewalks likely got a decent amount of foot traffic. The church felt less like a safe haven than a tired old building biding its time, waiting for our enemies to find us and breach its once-sacred walls. I shook myself free of the thought. You're just being paranoid.

"I'll get your bags," Keel said and slid out the door into the night. I followed, hoping my legs were up for all those stairs. It made me tired just looking at them, in spite of Keel's blood and all that sleep.

Ephraim let me set the pace and while it wasn't fast, I did make it to the top without tripping or losing my breath. Both Keel and Lucia followed close behind me, ready to leap into motion if I so much as wavered.

"Are you ready for what comes next?" my father said, reaching for the big brass doorhandles.

"Give me a moment." I let the stone banister take my weight and looked out across the street. The lights in a couple houses had blinked on as I'd climbed the stairs - early risers or those who had to attend to them. A twinge of guilt tightened my chest. The people who lived here surely didn't deserve what supes like us brought to the community. And yet, this was home now, so we might as well make the best of it. I turned back to Keel and Ephraim, who'd been looking at me rather than the neighbourhood. "Okay, let's do this thing."

Ephraim released the wards and pulled open the doors, inviting us inside. The entryway was clean and spare and gave no clues as to the identity of the church's newest inhabitants. A murmur of unintelligible conversation bled through the inner doors, occasionally blotted out by a thump or scrape.