Page 41 of Abiding Blood

We’d been traveling for over two hours when the snow on the road became impassable. We were in another valley, and without a plow, we couldn’t continue by vehicle. We were ten miles from the next town, out of reach for a human and a cat on foot in the middle of the night. I would need to scout the area for shelter. Our only other option was to head back the way we’d come. I hadn’t fully considered the complications of traveling with a mortal.

Julian agreed, and I left him and Samson in the warm car before heading into the cold dark. The snow was much deeper here, but it wasn’t impossible to navigate. I moved quickly, careful not to expend too much energy, but I also didn’t want to leave Julian for too long. I searched up and down the roadside, first checking one side of the valley and then the other. I found several cabins; however, some were occupied by the deceased, some were far too rustic, and others lacked a place for me to spend the day safely.

It took me nearly an hour, but I finally found a place I thought might work. It sat far back from the road, more than a mile away, but it had everything we would need for now. The building was primarily an A-frame log home. Calling it a cabin would be misleading. It was spacious, with several bedrooms, a stone fireplace in the main room, a gas range for cooking, large windows that offered a view of the surrounding mountains, and, most importantly, a small cellar beneath the kitchen, which, if not roomy, was at least underground.

I hurried back to the car and told Julian what I’d discovered. “It’s a long way, but we can leave most of this here. I’ll bring it up after we get you inside and warm,” I told him.

“I’ll be fine,” Julian said, sounding annoyed. “I’m not that fragile.”

He put on a thick winter jacket and tucked his pet inside against his chest. I chose to carry some supplies to minimize my later trips. The distance from the house to the car took me less than five minutes through the deep snow. Together, it took us almost an hour to reach the snow-clogged driveway, and our destination came into view. Despite Julian’s earlier claims, he looked nearly frozen when we finally arrived at the shelter.

I hurried around the house, gathering everything I needed, and set about starting a fire. I moved faster than I normally would in front of a human. It felt necessary, and I reminded myself there was no reason to hide what I was. Julian wasn’t paying any attention anyway; he was too busy rubbing his hands together and stomping his feet to stave off hypothermia.

Once the fire was going strong, I returned to the car to retrieve our belongings. It took several trips to haul everything, but by the time Julian warmed up, I had managed to dump it all in the entryway. Julian seemed surprised to see me back so soon.

“Done,” I announced. “I thought about hiding the car, but it looks like it’s going to snow again, which should take care of it for us. I’m afraid we might be stuck here until the snow melts.”

“It’s okay,” Julian said. “I suppose one place is as good as another.” His voice sounded flat and resigned, or perhaps he was just tired. “Do you think we’re far enough away?”

“Yes. I don’t think they’ll find us up here,” I said, crouching beside him in the firelight. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just been a lot.”

“Do you need help unpacking or settling in? I had to force the door open and broke the handle, but the inner bolt still works. I’d still like to go out and explore the area before turning in for the day to make sure we’re safe.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay,” I said, leaving Julian alone with his thoughts.

There were still a couple of hours before sunrise, and I spent some of that time mapping the part of the mountain where the cabin was located. For miles around, there wasn’t much. Next to the house was a small pond that appeared to be spring-fed. I found a couple of small shelters—both vacant—along with a vast wooded hillside that would provide plenty of fuel. I thought this would be a good place to wait out the rest of the winter, if necessary.

I stomped the snow off my boots and stepped back inside to find Julian had begun unpacking. He was arranging items in the open kitchen, just off the large living room, which was partially lit by the fireplace. I busied myself with finding the lamps and placing them around the kitchen in spots I thought might be useful.

“Thanks,” Julian said. “That’s better.”

“Do you need anything before I retire?” I asked.

“No, I’m okay,” he replied. “Where will you sleep?”

I pointed to the trapdoor beneath Julian’s feet, partially hidden under a colorful rag rug.

“You’re kidding? What’s down there?”

“It’s basically just a hole for utility access, but there are no windows. I took a lock and some chain from your cabin that I should be able to attach on the inside. Do you mind if I borrow them?”

“Of course not. But wasn’t there anything nearby with a better basement?”

“There was one, but this house was better, with running water, a septic system, and a nicer view,” I said.

“Nicer view.” He shook his head. “You picked it because it was better for me?” Julian asked.

I shrugged. “I want you to be comfortable. We might be here for a while.”

Julian stepped aside. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate it.” He picked up his suitcase and turned toward the hall to the bedrooms. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Julian,” I said. I waited until Julian was down the hall, then pulled up the trapdoor and lowered myself to begin the first of many days in our mountain home.

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