Servicing the Undead by Isabelle Drake Page B

crossed to the wood stove. She
kicked it lightly with her booted foot. Sparks flared. She kicked it again.
Sparks flashed higher behind the glass. “You really need to start thinking bigger,
Hayden. Try to see what you aren’t even bothering to look at. You’re a thinker.
Think.”
    “Take me to her.”
    She stared at the burning wood, her body unaffected by the
heat of the flames dancing behind the thick glass. The top of the stove was
flat, probably to be used for cooking. But she didn’t eat, did she? The heat
was for him, her effort to make him comfortable.
    “I’ll take you to her. But remember, I warned you.” She
crossed the room to the dresser beside the bed. Wood squeaked as she wiggled a
drawer open. After soft rustle of objects, she turned and came toward him.
“We’ll have to…have to—can you put your ankles together?” She grabbed one of
his ankles and tugged it toward the other. “This isn’t going to hurt.”
    The soft leather straps she bound his legs with were
reddish-brown and about an inch thick. It was obvious by the efficient way her
fingers worked the straps into knots, she had experience with tethering. Once
the straps were secured around his ankles, she tugged on the binds. “You’ll be able
to walk fine. They’re only there to keep you from running.”
    He moved his legs, testing the limits of the binds. “Where
would I run to?”
    “You’re crafty, researcher. You might think you could build
a dog sled and take off through the woods.”
    “Where are we?”
    “See? That’s what I mean. You’re always thinking.” She
pushed herself off the bed. “Why don’t you do us some good and start thinking
something useful.”
    “What would that be?”
    “You never did tell me what you found out in the library,
before I interrupted you.”
    He got up and tried walking alongside the bed. The tethers
were manageable. “Interrupted? That’s what you’re calling it?”
    “I don’t remember you complaining.”
    It was true, so he didn’t say anything. If only he’d known.
But looking back, even if he had known, would he have done it anyway?
    “Tell me, what did you find out?”
    He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the cover over his
legs and groin. “Are you serious? You know because you’re proof of it.”
    She wiggled the drawer, the wood squeaking until it was
closed. “Tell me anyway.”
    He described the tracker he’d read about, and how the man
followed the tribe into the woods and watched them train those freshly turned
how to live off the sex. When she prompted him, he told her about the drawings,
the details of the sex rituals, but she kept asking for more. “That really is
all of it,” he said once he’d told her everything he could remember. “Was there
something in particular you were hoping for?”
    She got up and walked to the window and looked out into the
black night.
    “What were you hoping for?” he asked.
    “What happens next?”
    How could he possibly know that?
    Hayden grabbed the chain and tugged. The dull sound of metal
rubbing against wood made her look over.
    “Can you take this off?” he asked.
    She took a key off the mantel and freed the bolt locking the
end of the chain to the bed. “The chain stays on.”
    Hayden got to his feet, naked, and thankful for the radiant
heat from the stove. “I don’t know what’s next. I haven’t the slightest idea.”
    “I wanted to know—”
    A rap on the door stopped her. She shoved Hayden back onto
the bed and then pulled the door open just enough to look out into the bleak
night.
    “Matthew wants you,” a rough voice said through the narrow
opening.
    Her reply was sharp. “I told him we were coming.”
    “I’m just doing what I’m told, Mattie.” The voice came more
quietly. “He told me to tell you, so here I am, telling you.”
    “We’re coming, Oscar. Tell him that.” She pushed the door
closed and turned.
    “Who’s Matthew?”
    “He wants to meet you.”
    “I thought we were