Matheus Taylor didn’t ask to be murdered. Quin didn’t care. Now, Matheus runs for his life, questions his sexual orientation & defies a mysterious new threat to vampires within his city.

Are you sure this is the right place?” Matheus asked.

“I’m sure,” Quin said.

The cottage perched on top of a hill with tall, blank apartment buildings rising up on either side. A large lawn surrounded the cottage, bordered with a tidy fence, complete with gate. An army of garden gnomes watched Matheus and Quin walk up the slate path. The siding on the cottage was a soft pink, with white trim. Matheus could swear he smelled fresh cookies. Never in his life had he been more convinced he’d wandered into a Twilight Zone episode and no one had bothered to tell him about the cameras.

“I think this is more frightening than Grigori’s house,” Matheus said. He pressed the doorbell, the chimes muffled through the walls.

“Matheus,” Quin said. “In there, it’s going to be bad. Don’t … don’t be you.”

“What’s in there? Dammit, you’re just going to let me walk in there blind?”

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