An Hour of Need Read Online Free

of note. I’d held out some hope about the bookshelf I had spotted in the kitchen, but after Rose, Orlando and I had flipped through every single page, we found nothing that could help us. Just recipe books for food. Not antidotes.
    “I think it’s time we admit there’s nothing here,” Lucas muttered.
    “I agree,” Derek replied.
    My father sighed. “All right. We’ll head to the hotel next.”

    * * *
    T he hotel was also situated deep in the countryside. It was an off-white building of five stories, much wider than it was tall. In front of it stretched a gravel parking lot, which was mostly empty. Apparently this wasn’t the busy season. A glass-doored entrance emitted a warm orange glow, above which read a proud sign:
    Brundbar Hotel.
    I realized what an odd bunch we were as we moved to the entrance. Though, given the cold, I guessed that the paleness of the vampires among us would be easier to pass off.
    We set our focus on the long oak desk at the end of the cheerfully lit reception room. A man sporting a smart black suit and bow tie sat behind it.
    My father suggested in a low tone that just a handful of us approach the desk, while the rest of us hung back. I of course clung to my father and followed him to the desk, while Orlando stuck by my side.
    “Excuse me.” My father cleared his throat.
    The receptionist rose to his feet and offered us a pleasant smile. “How can I help?”
    “I have a rather unusual query,” my father said. “I don’t know how far back you keep a record of bookings of your conference rooms, but I’m trying to find out details about a meeting that was booked here about thirteen years ago.”
    “Oh,” the man murmured. “I’m sorry. I am certain that we don’t hold such records.”
    Well, this was a short visit.
    “Thank you,” my father said faintly, before we backed away from the desk.
    We returned to the others, who had all overheard the conversation. We headed out the doors, back into the frigid atmosphere. The sudden drop in temperature caused my teeth to chatter and my whole body to break out in shivers.
    As my mother and father and everyone else huddled in a circle to talk about our next destination, I huddled closer to Orlando—not that he could provide me with any warmth. This wind, it was treacherous. My hands had started shaking so badly that I struggled to even spark up my lighter.
    Orlando, noticing my effort, reached for the lighter to spark it for me. But before he could, the trembling in my body intensified tenfold. The next thing I knew, I was shaking so violently I could no longer hold my own weight.
    I slipped on the snow, feeling arms close around my waist at the last minute. My brain had entered a state of shock as a tremor, as strong and dreaded as the first I had experienced, claimed my body. I registered briefly that it was Orlando who had caught and was holding me before more tremors started wreaking havoc on my limbs. I was vaguely aware of Orlando yelling for the others, then I closed my eyes against the cold. Against what was happening. As warm as the clothes were that my mother had equipped me with, it seemed that the icy atmosphere had triggered something in my system.
    The ground left me, and I experienced the sensation of being whizzed through the air.
    The tremors subsided slowly. When I dared open my eyes again, we had landed on a sunny beach—by no means hot, but not nearly as cold as the landscape we had just left.
    Gazing up into a pair of deep, concerned dark eyes, I realized that Orlando was still holding me against him. My parents and the rest of my family moved around us.
    My mother clasped my forehead. “Grace,” she said in a pained voice. “You should go back to The Shade. This journey is no place for you.”
    “No,” I wheezed. She didn’t understand. I just couldn’t go back and wait blindly for their return. It would feel like I was just waiting to die. As shaken as my limbs still were, I fought to stand on my own two