Cursed Blood | REWRITING

4. Cold Night For a Murder

Soon enough, a pair of bright headlights shined through the living room window. Silas laced his insulated boots before plunging out into the icy night.

Snow flurries alighted in his chestnut hair and the sides of his face as he propped the squeaky passenger door open. He flung himself onto the white leather seat and slammed the door, savoring the warmth of the furnace as he rubbed his gloved hands together.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" Seraphina greeted him.

"Very cold." Silas shivered. "Wish I had a bit of that wolf fur about now," he joked.

Seraphina gave him an awkward half-smile. "Sorry for dragging you out of bed. I just didn't want to drive alone tonight."

"It's okay, I understand. I wasn't busy or tired anyway." Silas slid his belt into the buckle.

Once she reversed out of his driveway and sped off down the road, silence filled the car. It smelled delightful of snowberry and strawberry.

"How are you feeling?" Seraphina asked softly.

"Pretty good, I guess. No different from usual." Silas shrugged.

"That's good." Her voice had a merrier tone to it. "After we drop this monster off, let's grab breakfast. Or whatever they call it at this weird hour. It's the least I can do for you."

"Sure, that sounds good." Silas fiddled with his hands in his lap. "You know, I don't blame you for what happened to me. I'm still coming to terms with it myself, honestly. But it's not your fault."

Seraphina gripped the wheel until her knuckles whitened. "I just wish it could have been me instead. You don't deserve this, Silas."

"But you do?" Silas asked, raising a brow.

"That's not what I meant." Seraphina sighed. "Someone sent that cursed wolf walker to kill me. It wanted my blood. I just wish you weren't out so late that night. It wouldn't have gotten to you."

"That's ridiculous to blame yourself over." Silas crossed his arms over his chest. "What matters most is we're both alive. While I might be cursed, I still feel like myself." He offered a small smile in her direction. "I can live with this. I honestly don't think it'll be that bad. The elixirs help me a lot."

Seraphina didn't argue further as she drove them out to Caverott. The snow only fell harder as they neared the town's border, crossing into Nevermourn. She turned the radio up, blasting a merry tune as Silas watched the festively decorated houses pass by in a blur. Once they reached Nevermourn, the lights dwindled. Vampires didn't seem to care much for the holidays.

Upon reaching Caverott, Silas admired the shop displays and the main centerpiece in the midst of their town. A gazebo illuminated with brilliant blue lights twinkled like stars in the night. Many folks proposed to their loved ones there during the Night of Frost, claiming it to be a sacred place blessed with love. They frequented the gazebo during this time with hopes of it rubbing off onto their own souls. Couples left ornaments on the tree inside with their names or initials carved onto them, hoping it would bless their love.

"Can't believe how close it is to the Night of Frost," Seraphina said.

"Me neither." Silas leaned against the frosty window and fogged it up with his warm breath.

Once Seraphina parked, Silas gazed around at the closed shops in wonder. Where would they hide a black market? Surely it wasn't in town amid all the legit businesses. Or perhaps one of those businesses harbored darker things in the back.

When Seraphina climbed out, Silas followed close behind her. He wasn't sure what to expect. She propped open her trunk then hefted out a ginormous red sack. Panic pulsed through him at the miasma of wet fur and rot. That was the creature who cursed him and tried to kill Seraphina.