“I’m trying, there’s something else here,” Wilder gasped. “Something buried… deep.”
“Leave it, Wilder. Come back to me.”
His eyes flickered between Caleb’s muddy brown and his own bright violet, but then something shifted. Something darker.
Power surged in the air, and it prickled against my skin uncomfortably. I’d felt this before.
Wilder’s eyes bled into two black orbs.
“Byron…I see you,” that dark raspy voice I’d come across in the abandoned house whispered through Wilder’s lips.
“Wilder,” I shouted. “Can you hear me?”
“He’s not here right now,” the voice said, and this was the closest I’d ever been to fear.
“Who are you?”
Wilder’s mouth pulled into an unsettling grin. “I am the King.”
Purple lightning started to flicker through the black orbs, and I could sense Wilder fighting back.
Come on, baby. Come back to me.
Wilder slammed his eyes shut and yelled an almighty scream as he wrenched his hands away from Caleb.
There was a large squelch and pop as Caleb’s eyes exploded and Wilder fell backwards. I darted towards him, catching him in my arms before he could hit the ground.
I cupped his jaw with my free hand and for the first time in my life, I willed my stomach to stop churning. “Wilder?”
He was so still and his skin was so pale.
Finally, he took a deep breath after what felt like minutes. It was probably only seconds, but the adrenaline made time stand still.
Wilder coughed and sputtered in my arms, dragging in several deep breaths.
“What the heck was that?” a soft voice said from behind us.
I grabbed my gun and pointed it in the direction of the intruder, ready to shoot. “Orson? What the fuck are you doing here?”
He held his hands up in surrender. “I mean you no harm, and this is purely a coincidence.”
“There’s no such thing as a coincidence,” I replied.
Wilder huffed a shaky laugh and sat up. “No, Byron thinks they’re fishy.”
He still seemed to be a bit unsteady, but he didn’t move from his position on the floor between my legs. I kept my hand curled possessively around his hip while the other held the gun pointed at the mysterious vampire.
“Who are you?” Wilder asked as he leaned his shoulder into my chest.
“Orson Aldworth. Did you not find my business card?”
“Yes,” I clipped. “But what’s a history professor from Brackley Hollow doing in a warehouse all the way down here in Misthaven?”
Orson was quick to smile. “Have you been reading up on me? I feel like a notorious criminal.”
“There wasn’t much else to find,” Wilder added as he burrowed deeper into me. I liked that he was taking comfort and support from me. It was an alien sensation, but I didn’t hate it. In fact, I wanted to revel in it.
Orson tucked his hands back into his pockets. “Good. That’s how I like it. You don’t have to keep pointing the gun at me. I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to save them.”