2. Adelaide

2

ADELAIDE

Sighing, I know I have to get up and go to work. Reality check central. The morgue doesn't wait. As I get ready, I can hear muffled voices downstairs—Randall and Mum, probably hashing out years of unspoken tension.

Not my circus, not my monkeys .

Right now, I've got bigger things on my mind.

I shove the acceptance letter under my pillow and grab my bag. Heading down the stairs, I'm waylaid by Randall again.

"Adelaide."

"Not interested. I have to get to work."

"Wait," he says and as I turn to him, he pulls something else out of his jacket pocket.

"What now?"

He doesn't answer; he just holds the white envelope out for me to take. Curiosity gets the better of me, so I take it and open it.

Narrowing my eyes at the black bank card in there, I purse my lips when I pull out the letter that accompanies it.

Then, I nearly choke on my saliva.

"What the fuck is this?" I spit out, eyeballing more zeroes than I will probably ever see in my lifetime of morgue work.

"I've been putting money aside for you since before you were born," Randall says with the gentlest tone I've heard from him yet.

"Putting money aside," I murmur, trying not to panic. There is too much here for me to even contemplate being in possession of. "No thanks," I add stiffly, handing it back.

He doesn't take it. "It's yours. Do with it what you want. Spend it all in one place or don't. I don't care, it's not mine," he states loftily.

"Randall." My mother's voice, sharp and cutting. "This isn't how we do things."

"Well, it's how I do things," he retorts, his gaze never leaving mine. "Adelaide is my daughter, and she deserves to know she has options, especially now."

Ignoring their bickering, I glance down at the black card again. Images of what I picture this MistHallow University to be, flash in my mind—dark corridors filled with secrets, professors who could teach me things my high school science teacher never could, students like me, and they are probably all rich and spoiled and entitled. I have precisely two options. Cut my nose off to spite my face or take what he's giving me and fuck it.

I choose to fuck it.

I've been broke my entire life. If someone arsehole wants to give me a few million quid, who am I to stop him? It makes me wonder how much money he has… that leads me to wonder how old he is. Are vampires immortal like in the myths? Am I? Or am I half-immortal? Whatever that could entail, who the fuck knows. I have questions. He can give them to me. He knows this, and he is looking at me expectantly. But right now, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of answering them.

I grip the card tight and shove it in my pocket before either of them can say anything. "Fine. I'll keep it," I mumble. "But this doesn't make us square."

Randall nods once. "Understood."

Without waiting for more awkwardness to unfold, I stride out of the house and hop on my bike. The evening air is chilly, slicing through my coat as I pedal furiously towards the morgue. My mind buzzes with a thousand thoughts about MistHallow—what it will be like, who I'll meet. Or if this is all a dream I will wake up from. I know if that is the case, I will be gutted. It answers so many of my life questions, and I've always been ready to believe that something else exists out there. I didn't think I'd be one of them.

My doubts rise as I pedal. Is Randall legit? What if this is all a big joke? Or maybe he's delusional? Why is my mother going along with it if that's the case?

"Rah!" I growl as all these questions flood my mind. I was so quick to accept it all because it's what I wanted to be real, but now, in the harsh dark of night, it doesn't seem possible.

Does it?

When I arrive, the morgue is dead—it always is. No one really wants to work with corpses in the middle of the night except oddballs like me and the chief mortician, Wesley.

The morgue is eerily silent as I push through the heavy double doors, seemingly more so than usual. The familiar scent of disinfectant mixed with something less pleasant hits me, but I barely notice it anymore. This place has been my sanctuary for the past year, a place where the dead don't judge, and the living rarely venture.

As I'm pulling my hair into a tight bun, I hear a muffled thud from the main examination room. Curious, I head towards the sound.

The sight that greets me as I push open the door stops me dead in my tracks.

Wesley is standing over a body on the examination table. It's not unusual, but this time, the sight makes my blood run cold, and goosebumps skitter over my skin. Wesley's hand is clamped around a wooden object that is buried deep in the dead man's chest.

I watch, frozen in horror, as the body on the table begins to disintegrate. It crumbles away like ash in the wind, leaving nothing but a fine grey powder on the stainless steel surface.

A strangled gasp escapes my lips before I can stop it.

Wesley's head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock as they meet mine. For a long moment, we just stare at each other, neither of us moving.

"Addy," he finally breaks the silence, his voice strained. "I... this isn't what it looks like."

I want to laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but fear has paralysed my vocal cords. What the hell did I just witness?

Unfortunately, I've seen enough episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to know what I just saw. A staking.

Wesley takes a step towards me, and I instinctively back away. "Let me explain," he says, holding his hand up.

But as he moves closer, something in his expression changes. He frowns, tilting his head slightly as if listening to something I can't hear. His nostrils flare, and his eyes narrow as they focus on me with an intensity that makes me shiver.

"What are you?" he murmurs.

That breaks the spell of my paralysis. Without thinking, I turn and run, my heart pounding wildly. I hear Wesley calling after me, his footsteps echoing in the corridor as he chases me.

I burst out of the morgue into the cool night air, gasping, aiming for my bike where I left it. Fumbling with the keys to unlock the chain, the doors to the morgue burst open, and Wesley pauses as he looks around for me. My hands are slick with sweat, and the keys fall to the ground before I've had a chance to unlock the padlock.

"Fuck," I mutter. "Fuck. Fuck. Come on."

Wesley sees me and strides towards me. He is in no rush it seems. "Addy," he says as the key finally slips into the lock.

Letting the chain and keys drop to the ground, I leap onto my bike and pedal furiously, not daring to look back.

The wind whips through my hair as I race through the empty streets. My mind is reeling. What did I just see? Was that... was that a vampire? And Wesley? Who is he? Why did he stake that vampire?

As I round the corner onto my street, I see a familiar figure stepping out of our house. Randall. I'm glad to see him.

I screech to a halt in front of him, nearly falling off my bike in my haste. "Randall," I gasp, struggling to catch my breath.

His eyes widen as he takes in my dishevelled appearance. "Adelaide? What happened?"

Before I can answer, I hear a car turning onto the road. I turn to see Wesley's old black sedan coming towards us.

Without thinking, I step behind Randall, seeking protection from the man I've worked alongside for months but now feels like a stranger.

Randall's posture changes instantly. He straightens, his presence suddenly seeming to fill the entire street.

Wesley drives towards us, the window rolled down as he stares at us.

It's surreal, something out of a horror film.

Wesley's car slows to a crawl as he passes us, his eyes locked onto Randall. The tension in the air is suffocating as this scene plays out in slow motion. I hold my breath, half-expecting Wesley to leap out of his car and attack.

But he doesn't.

After what feels like an eternity, Wesley's car accelerates and disappears around the corner. I let out a shaky breath.

Randall turns to me, his face a mask of concern and anger. "What happened?" he demands.

The words tumble out of me in a rush. "I saw Wesley at the morgue. He was... he staked someone. A vampire? The body just turned to dust."

Randall's expression turns stony. "Damn it," he mutters as his dark eyes search my face. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

I shake my head, still trying to process everything. "No, I'm not all right! I saw him stake someone, and then it was like he knew about me, about what you told me. He came after me!" I shove my hands into my hair, forgetting it's up in the bun I wear for work.

Randall's expression hardens. "A Hunter," he spits out the word like it's poison. "I should have known."

"A Hunter?" I repeat, feeling like I've stepped into some bizarre parallel universe.

He nods grimly. "They're humans who dedicate their lives to eradicating supernatural beings. Especially vampires."

My head spins. This is too much. Vampires, Hunters, me, Randall…

But the memory of Wesley's face, the intensity in his eyes as he asked, ‘What are you?' sends a chill down my spine.

"We need to get you out of here," Randall says, his tone urgent. "It's not safe for you anymore."

"But what about Mum?" I ask, glancing back at our house. "We can't just leave her."

Randall's expression softens slightly. "Your mother will be fine. She is human. They won't, can't, touch her."

I shake my head, struggling to process everything. "This is insane. Yesterday, I was just a normal, albeit slightly weird, girl working in a morgue. Now I'm what, some kind of supernatural fugitive?" My voice has gone shrill, and it grates on my nerves. I take a step back and breathe in deeply to bring down the cloak of apathy I reserve for most things.

"Welcome to our world," Randall says dryly. "Now, we need to move. MistHallow is the safest place for you right now."

"But term doesn't start for another week," I protest weakly.

"Officially, but the gates open tonight."

"What?"

He shrugs. "It's a thing…"

"So you what? Either expected me to jump on this without a second thought, or you were going to kidnap me?"

"What? No!" he says, looking a bit miffed. "I mean, the gates open tonight and will stay open for the next week. Then they close. Students are free to arrive as and when they will, but the earlier, the better, I'll admit."

"Why?" I'm intrigued despite the fear still coursing through my veins.

"First come, first serve for accommodation."

"And you didn't think to tell me that earlier! I don't want to end up in the fucking basement!" My hands go into my hair again, and I yank the hair tie out, letting my hair cascade down my back, practically reaching the top of my arse.

He chuckles. "You won't end up in the basement, Adelaide. You're my daughter."

"And?" I hiss.

"Forget the basement, we need to move, or this Wesley dick will be back, and this time, he will know what you are. He saw you with me."

I want to argue, to demand more explanations, but the memory of Wesley plunging that stake into that poor man's chest without any chance to defend himself chills me to my soul.

"Fine," I concede, fear driving my decision. "I need to pack and let me at least say goodbye to Mum."

Randall nods curtly. "Make it quick."

I rush back into the house, finding Mum in the hallway, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and she looks up at me with sadness and resignation.

"You heard all that?" I ask.

Mum nods, her eyes glistening. "I knew this day would come eventually. I hoped we'd have more time, though."

I rush forward and wrap my arms around her, inhaling her familiar scent of lavender and home. "I'm sorry, Mum. I don't want to leave you."

She pulls back, cupping my face in her hands. "Oh, Addy. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is who you are. I've known it since the day you were born. I just wanted to protect you for as long as I could."

"But what about you? Will you be safe?"

Mum smiles, though it's stiff and fake. "I'll be fine, love. The Hunters have no interest in humans, as your father said."

I don't want to point out that they might come after her for information. Maybe that's just in the movies. I really need to get another hobby; I groan inwardly as I'm basing everything about this entire situation on what I stream on fucking Netflix.

But then the reality of the situation hits me like a punch to the gut. "Mum, I'm scared," I whisper.

She pulls me close again. "I know, sweetheart. But you're strong. Stronger than you know. And MistHallow is where you belong. Where you'll learn to be who you truly are."

I nod against her shoulder, trying to memorise everything about this moment - her warmth, her scent, the sound of her heartbeat.

"Go pack," she says softly. "I'll make you some sandwiches for the journey."

I rush upstairs, throwing open my wardrobe and grabbing armfuls of clothes. I shove them haphazardly into my largest holdall, along with my laptop, chargers, and a few treasured books. I grab the framed photo of Mum and me from my bedside table and place it in the middle of my clothes to protect it.

Randall appears in my doorway. "We need to go, Adelaide. Now. The sharks are circling."

I zip up my bag and nod, my heart racing. This is really happening. Randall scoops up the bag as I sling my backpack over my shoulder, and I pause in the doorway, looking back and wondering if I will ever see this place again.

Slowly, I take the stairs, my thoughts a swirl of emotions and turmoil. Am I doing the right thing, blindly walking off into the night with Randall? I don't know anything about him. This could be a trap. Maybe he is a Hunter. I dismiss that thought. My mum knows the details, and she wouldn't let me walk into an ambush. Would she? She has lied to me for two decades after all. Shaking my head, I tell myself to stop. She had her reasons, and if all of this turns out to be true, I get it. I probably would've done the same thing to protect my child. I don't blame her.

No, I blame Randall fucking Black.

I glare at him before I turn to Mum and hug her one last time. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too, sweetheart," she replies, her voice thick with emotion. She hands me a lunchbox with sandwiches and crisps stuffed in it, and I smile. "Thanks. I'll ring when I can. Assuming I can," I frown and shoot Randall an inquiring stare.

He raises an eyebrow. "Whyever not?"

Whyever not, indeed.

I follow Randall out into the night, my heart thundering in my ears. A sleek black car idles at the curb, its engine purring softly.

"Get in," Randall says, opening the passenger door for me before he throws my bag in the back.

I hesitate for a moment, glancing back at our small terraced house. Mum stands in the doorway, tears glistening on her cheeks. I want to run back, to tell her I've changed my mind. But the memory of Wesley's face, the intensity in his eyes, his question, and the chase propels me forward.

I slide into the leather seat on autopilot, stashing my backpack at my feet. At some point, all of this will catch up with me, and then I know it will be a case of crash and burn. I just hope the damage isn't too extensive.

As we pull away from the curb, I crane my neck to keep Mum in sight for as long as possible. When we turn the corner, and she disappears from view, I feel like a piece of me has been left behind.

"Where exactly is MistHallow?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the growing ache in my chest.

"Of sorts, in Kielder forest," Randall replies, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "In the Northumberland National Park. It's... well hidden." He glances at me with a knowing look.

"Of sorts," I murmur. What the fuck does that mean?

I have no idea, so I nod, not trusting myself to speak further. The reality of what I'm doing is starting to sink in. I'm leaving everything I've ever known to go to a school for supernatural beings. With a man I've just met who claims to be my father.

Addy, what have you got yourself into?