Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Turning on my side, I adjusted the pillow under my head
and stretched my legs out under the sheets, feeling the space,
smooth and cold.
Not warm.
Wait. Where’s…
“Mikhail?” I called out, popping my eyes open and my
head up.
The dog slept at my feet, but he wasn’t on the bed. I
listened for the jingle of his collar as it did when he rose to
answer me, but there was nothing.
“Here, boy.” And I clicked my tongue a few times, calling
him.
He couldn’t have gotten out. I locked the door.
Then I noticed the scent of something buttery and sweet,
and I sat up, throwing the covers off. My heart picked up pace.
She didn’t, I groaned to myself.
I made my way over to my desk, my fingers grazing a
ceramic pot with what smelled like tea and a small dish with a
flaky croissant. My mother had broken in to leave me food.
Christ.
I walked over, finding my door open, thanks to her. Really,
it was probably useless to lock it. If Damon lost the master key
to all the rooms, he could, you know, just kick it down, but
still… I couldn’t not lock it, so…
I stuck my head into the hallway. “Mikhail?” I whispered.
Nothing.
I pinched my brows together. It wasn’t like him not to
respond, and there was no way to get outside without someone
to open the door for him.
“Mikhail?” I whisper-yelled a little louder.
I stepped out of the room and slipped quietly into the
hallway, the floorboards creaking just a little under my weight.