Page 38 of Luna

He laughs and stands up. “Don’t worry. He won’t be eating you,” he says. Something flits across his face, but he bites the corner of his lip as if he’s stopping himself from saying it. Like a schoolboy who wants to shout a rude joke in class. He clears his throat. “He doesn’t feed from humans these days. Not often, anyway.”

He returns to the window and uses his elbow to brush all the remaining shards of glass free.

Below, the dogs that Thornfield sent to bark below my window start making noise.

“I’m Kim, by the way.” He strides back to the discarded sheet of MDF then takes it to the window.

“Luna,” I reply, twisting so I can watch as he takes nails from his pocket and starts to hammer the MDF into place. “You work for Lucien?”

Kim pauses, considering his words carefully. “You could say that.”

“What exactly does he do?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me. From when he visited the bookshop, I know he works for the university, but I also know you don’t get to be the owner of a huge mansion, and have staff at your beck and call, on a university professor’s salary.

Kim glances at me over his shoulder and bites the inside of his cheek as if he’s trying to decide how to answer me. “I suppose the best way to phrase it is…” He frowns, searching for the right words. “The thing is, Thornfield... he's not just a vampire. He’s essentially the supernatural mafia boss of Cambridge."

My eyes widen but then I laugh a little. “Mafia?”

Kim raises his eyebrows. “Oh yeah. He runs the Fermented Human Blood trade in the city. FHB.”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Then you know it’s a big deal. Thornfield controls who sells it, who buys it, everything. He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies, and let’s just say he’s not someone you want to cross.”

I absorb this information, feeling a mix of shock and... something else. Fear? Excitement? “And you're okay working for someone like that?”

Kim shrugs. “Like I said, it’s complicated. But Thornfield... he keeps things in check. Without him, it’d be chaos.”

I watch as Kim finishes hammering the MDF into place over the broken window.

With the daylight gone again, my chest tightens; I’ve always hated the dark.

“Does he keep you locked up here, too?” I adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose. “Or does he pay you for odd jobs?”

Kim laughs and, instead of hanging the picture back up, props it in front of the wardrobe. “No. We’re… colleagues.” He perches on the end of the bed and crosses his legs at the ankles. He sits quietly for a moment, studying me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

I shift in my chair, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through my lower back. The constant ache I’ve been trying to ignore since arriving here is steadily growing worse, and I can feel my muscles tensing in response.

“Are you all right?” Kim asks gently.

I force a smile; the kind I’m used to giving people a hundred times a day. The one that perfectly masks how I’m really feeling. “Fine. Apart from being kidnapped and held hostage.”

“I’m not sure you’re a hostage,” Kim says. There’s something about him that puts me at ease, despite the bizarre situation. Maybe it’s his calm demeanor or the way he fixed my hand without hesitation. Whatever it is, I find myself wanting to trust him, even though I know I shouldn’t trust anyone in this place.

“Kim,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady, “why does Lucien think I need protecting? What’s really going on here?”

He looks away, his jaw tightening slightly.

“Please. Thornfield won’t talk to me, and I can’t just sit here alone with my thoughts. It will drive me crazy.”

Kim sighs a little then adjusts his glasses on his nose. “Because of what happened at the bookshop. The vampires who attacked you. He thinks they might return.”

I lean forward, ignoring the twinge in my muscles. There is more to it than that. I know there is. But neither of them wants to tell me the truth. “One of the vampires mentioned something about a queen. What did they mean?”

Kim runs a hand through his curly hair. The gesture is oddly endearing, making him seem more approachable. It’s a stark contrast to Lucien’s gothic, otherworldly presence.

“There used to be a vampire queen named Zephyra,” he explains. “She ran the Fermented Human Blood trade in Cambridge. Lucien had an arrangement with her - she could deal FHB if she kept the vampire population under control. And gave him a healthy share of her profits.”

As he speaks, I notice the way his shoulders tense, as if the memory itself is uncomfortable. I wonder how deeply he’s involved in this world of vampires and blood trades.