It was almost noon by the time I dragged my ass out of bed and powered my way through a cup of coffee and the plastic-wrapped muffin Mel had left me with a note to the right of it:

 

Eat me

Gotta hit the gym, call me later!

XOX

-M

 

Despite the fact that I’d managed to think about nothing but my vampire lovers, both while awake and asleep, for the previous eight hours, I was still no closer to deciding what to do when I walked up to my doorstep.

It was only then that a strange shudder went through me, leaving me even colder than blustery winds. Something was seriously wrong.

I stared at my front door and lifted the key to the lock with a shaking hand, but as I made to slip the key into the lock, the door creaked open on its hinges.

A gasp broke from my lips as I stared inside, floored by the state my beloved house was in. I'd left it with the silly welcome banner still hanging, but I'd cleaned up in preparation while waiting for Jaeger before Maddox showed. It'd been neat like always, everything in its proper place.

Now, the place was… Trashed. That was the only way to describe it.

My feet moved on autopilot as I stepped inside and my worst suspicions were confirmed. It looked like someone had tried to turn the entire place upside down. My lamps were broken on the floor, my couch pillows slashed, the stuffing poking out in tufts that somehow seemed menacing. Glass crunched under the sneakers I’d borrowed from Melanie as I made my way through the rest of the house.

In the kitchen, some of my cupboards were hanging half open and Sushi, my poor little goldfish, was lying dead on the floor. I knelt by him, my hands shaking as I hyperventilated and scooped the poor creature into my icy hand.

How had this happened? I was as boring as they came, had nothing of much value and kept my nose where it belonged--to myself. It made no sense that someone would break into my house, less sense that it looked like they'd been angry about it or in search of something.

I was rattled, trying to collect my thoughts. First things first, I gave Sushi the proper goldfish toilet-sendoff. That done, I continued down the hall, my knees nearly buckling when I got to my bedroom to find that my pillows had been gashed open, the floor covered with feathers and a note pinned to the wall with an arrow.

My heart knocked against my ribs as I walked toward it, like I was walking the Green Mile. I didn't know much about archery, but this didn't look like the standard garden-variety arrow you might find in your local hunting goods store. Its tip was canary yellow, maybe even gold, though that wouldn't make sense since I knew that gold was a softer metal. The shaft was covered in what looked like some sort of archaic writing that I couldn’t decipher, but the note was clear as day in a looping, masculine script.

 

Thralls are complicit and will not be spared.

 

Dread closed over me like a cold fist as I floated aimlessly through my house, my thoughts and heart racing while my sluggish, numb body tried to catch up.

What the hell was a thrall? And spared from what?

The fear was so strong that I could hardly think straight. I didn't have the first idea what to do. My instincts were screaming at me to get hold of the guys, but I didn't know how. I’d run out of the place like my ass was on fire. Plus, it was daytime and for all I knew they wouldn't be able to move outside of the hotel anyway--if they were even still there.

When had my life moved into the realm where something almost beyond belief happened every day?

Here I was in my torn-up house, an incomprehensible note pinned to my bedroom wall by an arrow, of all things, and contemplating how I might get in touch with the four vampires that I suddenly wished I’d never walked away from.

They would know what to do. They would not only travel to the ends of the earth to find out who had done this and why, but they would probably already have some answers.

In the interim, I did the only thing I could think of. I called the police. I didn't think they were the right people for this particular job but, despite my gut feel that something more sinister and perhaps including a world that the police knew nothing about was involved here, I had no other option in the moment.

While I waited for them to show, I wandered around restlessly, my hands itching to start straightening up if only to dull the ache in my chest. I'd watched enough true crime shows, though, to know that cleaning up would have to wait until after the police were here, but it didn’t make the need to start any less keen. Seeing the house in this shape just made me feel violated in a way that had my throat feeling tight.

It was twenty minutes more before a booming knock resounded from my door and a deep voice called out. "Miss Mitchell? This is Officer Matthews with the police department. Please open up."

Nervously smoothing out the sweater I'd borrowed from Melanie that morning, I went to open the door to the first police officers I would ever speak to as a victim of crime. Officer Matthews had his fist up to knock again when I swung the door open to greet him. He was a bear of a man, built more like a refrigerator than a human being.

"Starling Mitchell?" he said before I could say anything. "You reported a break-in at this address?"

I nodded numbly, my voice cracking slightly when I managed to find it. "I'm Starling. And yes, I did report a break-in. I slept over at my sister's house last night and when I came home, I found the place like this."

"Let's have a look then." He stepped past me and waved at the man behind him. "This is my partner, Officer Allendale."

Officer Allendale tipped his chin at me as he followed Officer Matthews inside. He was younger than his partner and vaguely resembled a weasel with bright red hair. He didn't say a word as he passed me.

They didn't wait for me to show them around the small space, scribbling notes in the pocket-sized notebooks they carried. "It was like this when you arrived home, you say? Around what time was that?"

The kitchen appliance narrowed his eyes as he questioned me, looking around suspiciously. "A little less than an hour ago."

"Does anyone have a key to your house?" I only just managed not to roll my eyes.

"My sister. I was with her when this happened but the door was definitely tampered with."

“Did you note that the intruders left your electronics behind? In fact, is there anything missing?”

My cheeks went hot as I nodded. “I did notice that, and no, not that I can tell.”

He jotted something on his notebook and carried on walking. "Is there a reason why anyone would target you?"

"Not that I know of,” I said, trying not to fidget or seem suspicious. Aside from the fact that I had slept with four vampires the night before, there really wasn’t any reason, and as far as I knew, only Mel was aware of that. “I'm a teacher and I've never gotten into any kind of altercation in the past. No violent exes, nothing like that." I'd run a few red lights, but that was as bad as I got.

Officer Weasel snapped a few photos on his phone of the chaos, silently following his partner around. They both stopped short at the arrow with the note when they got to my bedroom.

Officer Refrigerator turned to face me. "What is a thrall, Miss Mitchell?"

Throwing my hands up, I shrugged my shoulders. "No idea. I'm just as baffled by it as you are."

He scribbled furiously in his notebook while the other one kept snapping pictures. It was such an invasion having someone taking pictures of my house, my bedroom. Feeling uncomfortable, I backed out of the room and waited while they did whatever it was that they had to do.

They finished up and came to join me in the living room. "And you’re sure nothing was stolen?"

My eyes darted around the room and then cut back to the refrigerator's narrowed ones. "Again, not that I've been able to tell. Once I get this cleaned up, I might have a better idea."

"Do you think it’s strange that a burglar would leave that gold jewelry on your vanity?”

A shiver ran down my spine and I suddenly got the distinct sense that I wasn’t being interviewed, I was being interrogated.

Like a suspect.

Did they think I was some bored schoolmarm in need of attention?

"Yes, it would be strange,” I shot back, my tone chilly now as outrage took the place of fear. “But clearly this wasn’t a burglar. Look at the note. This is something else.” Something far more nefarious.

He shrugged and closed his notebook. "Just getting the information that we need. Are you seeing anyone at the moment? Is there anyone new in your life?"

Well, actually, I'm considering being with four vampires who are all new in my life.

"No."

“You interested in the paranormal?”

I whipped my head around to lock gazes with Officer Weasel, hoping my voice didn’t sound as choked as I felt. “Excuse me?”

“I googled the word ‘thrall’ and it’s used to describe a person under the spell of a vampire or witch.” He gestured to the pile of books on the shelf that I’d checked out from the library, the top of which was called The Anatomy of the Nightwalker. “Seems like a fair question.”

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat, forcing a chuckle out. “Oh, that. Yeah, my sister and I were on a Twilight kick and I thought it was super interesting, the whole history of people’s belief and vampires. But I don’t, like, believe in them or anything.”

My laugh was rusty and unconvincing, and their shared glance told me as much.

Nodding decisively, as though the case was closed in his head, he and the other officer shared a glance before both looked back at me. "That's all that we need for now. If you discover that anything has been stolen, please let us know. We'll patrol this area more closely in the coming days and if there is a culprit, will find him."

If there is a culprit?

They did think it was me, the bastards.

Well, good then. Because now that I knew what a thrall was, I was fairly sure there was nothing they or anyone else could do to help me.

Anyone but Jaeger and the guys, at any rate.

I pushed my humiliation aside and stood straighter, eyeing them coldly.

“I appreciate your time, Officers.”

"Just doing our jobs," Officer Weasel said as I led them back to my door. They tipped their hats at me and strolled down to the patrol car like they didn't have a care in the world, but I swore I saw Officer Fridge make a loop-di-loop with his finger by his temple in the universal symbol for “nutball” as they slid into their squad car.

I wasn’t a nutball, and I hadn’t done this.

Had I?

“Stop it, Starling. You know you’re not crazy. Just get it together, woman!”

Closing the door behind them, the tears broke free and streamed down my face in warm, salty rivulets that wouldn't let up no matter how hard I tried. This wasn’t my fault, and I refused to let those men make me think it was. My house, the place that I thought of as my sanctuary, my safe and happy little space, had been ransacked. The person who'd broken in might not have stolen anything tangible or physical, but they had stolen my peace of mind. It was like a ghost or a shadow was still hanging around, invading my space and taunting the memory of my sanctuary.

Suddenly, I couldn't see myself staying here alone for at least the next couple of days. My skin felt like it was a couple of sizes too small as I looked around, and fear gripped at my insides when I walked to my bedroom and really looked at the arrow jammed into the wall above my bed.

A frightened sob escaped when I realized that it had been pure coincidence that I decided to stay over at Melanie's and wasn't here when the intruder was. If I hadn’t stayed with the guys…if I’d decided to come home after all…Where would that arrow have been lodged then?

I didn't want to worry Melanie and, more than that, if someone really was targeting me, I didn't want her to be in harm's way as well. Besides, Melanie wouldn’t have any answers. Daytime or no, there was only one place for me to go.

Leaning up on my tiptoes to pull my overnight bag from the top shelf of my closet, I packed some clothes and went to the bathroom to gather my toiletries.

Once I was packed, I threw a photo of my family that had been taken on our trip to Disney that I kept on my nightstand on top of my clothes and zipped the bag up. Taking one last look around my room, I rushed out of the house with my head down before climbing into my car.

It was time to find my way back to the weirdest motel anywhere in the world and get to the bottom of all of this.

The image of Officer Weasel’s face came to my mind unbidden as a little voice of doubt in my head whispered softly…

If it ever existed.