A New Meaning to the Night

Chapter Eighteen: On the Other Side

She stepped out of the pond and beside Damien who was now dusting himself off and glaring at her. "Was that necessary?"

Sending him a sunny smile, she shrugged. "So are you going to show me where we're going or cry a little longer?"

Damien made his way out of the woods, "Try to keep up." Before she knew what was happening, he was gone. She only hesitated for a second before following after him. She couldn't deny that it was quite a feeling, having the world fly by, and a grin broke out on her face. When they reached William's front door, Sam stood back to admire the two-story brick house. She suspected there was at least one underground floor to accommodate Cori's and his needs. "We're on the second floor," Damien stated coolly, opening the door to lead her inside and up the stairs. Moving down the hall, he gestured to the second door on the left, "This is yours."

"Thanks," she said as she stepped into the room and shut the door immediately. He was angry, and she couldn't blame him, so she decided to make herself scarce.

Dropping her bags on the bed, she glanced at the clock and saw it was nearing five thirty in the morning. Everyone would be going to bed, but having just woken up from a forty-eight-hour slumber, Sam had energy to burn. Putting her clothes away only took about five minutes and then she was sitting on the corner of her mattress, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour and a half, so standing up, she decided to see what she could

Because she hadn't bothered to eat before they'd left, she wandered the house until she found William's kitchen and raided his fridge. The house was silent, and she knew they'd try to stop her if they caught her trying to leave anyway, so she ate quickly. She saw the blood bags in the bottom drawer and felt a different type of hunger claw at her, but she closed the fridge and turned away. After devouring three whole sandwiches and half a bag of chips, she dusted off her hands and made her way to the front door, glancing at the clock. She still had another hour.

The place was as good as deserted. She admired the dirt road in front of William's house and decided that she shouldn't be entirely surprised that vampires didn't put much value into their roads. They could, after all, move much faster on their own than they could in a vehicle. She suspected cars were only used when there was too much to transfer from point A to point B for a person to carry.

She had noticed the palace as Damien had led her to William's home and took off in its direction. She was there in under five minutes thanks to her newfound speed, something she was not at all displeased with. Running an absent-minded hand through her hair, she stared up at the massive building. It was at least five stories tall, and she did not doubt that there were also a few underground floors given its inhabitants. Stepping up to the barred gate, she smiled sunnily at the two guards blocking her way. "Hello." The two guards only stared at her, not bothering to return her greeting. "I was hoping to get in touch with whoever is in charge of hiring the staff. I know it's late, but I wanted to speak to them about a position here. Could either of you point me in the right direction?"

The woman guard who stood about an inch shorter than Sam herself glanced at the man beside her with an irritated expression. "You'll want to speak with Rosalyn Ashburough."

"Great, could you just point me in her direction?"

The man pushed open the gate to allow her to slip through. "Someone will help you when you get in there."

"Thank you both," With another sunny smile, she slid past them and through the gate.

The entrance to the actual palace stood fifty feet in front of her and she wandered toward it at a slower-than-normal pace as she took in her surroundings. At least ten more guards were wandering the grounds. She caught the gaze of surprised, pale blue eyes, and then a man of a little over six foot with red-brown hair cut short, military style, was making his way toward her.