Chapter 18

Had the amber-colored eyes not poked at my past, I would have swatted away the lowly witch who unceremoniously staggered into my chest. But then the red flames in her hair seduced me to reach for a curl, thrill skittering over my skin at the touch of the silky strand between my fingers. "What a peculiar twist of events," I murmured, examining the rest of her. "Luther failed to mention you, little witch."

Her lips parted, the heat of her breath carrying the scent of her innocent curiosity. Her instincts felt off. She should've been afraid.

I smirked as I watched her hand gently raise to my chest. Intrigued by her boldness or perhaps her blatant disregard for decorum, I allowed the witch to tempt her fate.

When her palm touched me, fire shot through my heart, spreading through every muscle and bone.

Saints damn me.

I'd gravely misjudged her intentions.

The invasion of her mind into mine felt like the delicate hands of a seductress, each caress more branding than the last. Every touch was impossible to resist. I'd not been prepared for the onslaught of memories she unearthed from my past—the ones I'd buried while in my prison.

Buried because the outright recollection of those moments, of those hands, those lips, that voice…

It'd been torture beyond anything imaginable.

And I'd let this witch dig them up. Let her show me my weakness and remind me why I'd lost.

Devotion. Passion. Love. All for a woman who promised me her heart, yet loved power more. And still, I'd given her everything, including my dark soul.

My pulse raced as a vision spurred to life in my mind. The blood in my veins quickened as Arabelle dug her nails into my bare back, her naked body arching beneath me, her swollen mouth begging me to go deeper, to bite her. To?—

The tether snapped, the memories sinking back into the depths of my wrecked heart.

Every muscle in my body felt rigid and liquid at the same time. Shaking my head, the images scattered until all I saw were those damn glowing amber eyes. The strange lights and obnoxious music of Luther's club also rushed back into focus, unsteadying me.

"Azrael," the witch whispered, pronouncing every letter as if she had any right to claim something that wasn't hers.

I yanked her hand off my chest, curling fingers around her wrist. She winced, but I knew my strength. If I wanted to truly hurt her, I would've.

Leaning down, I brushed my lips along her jawline, searching for her ear under the cascade of curls. I wanted to frighten her, to show her the deadliness of the game she'd played, but the feel of her skin doused me with unwanted desire, forcing my canines to descend.

Cursed demons.

If Luther sent her to tempt me—to trick me into cooperating with the Vates Ordo—then he'd made a grievous mistake. "I know your kind, witch," I said, feathering my mouth over her ear, taking note of her rapid breaths. "Best save your tricks for someone else or you might find I have no allegiance to your frivolous pact."

I wanted to witness fear hurtling into her eyes, but another distant yet familiar scent stole my attention. Looking over the crowd, I tracked the thief until my gaze hooked onto the individual across the room.

Balthazar.

My lips twisted into a snarl, mouth salivating with the taste for vengeance. Gums throbbed, my fangs eager to tear into my nephew with unrelenting rage. I was about to lunge toward the vampire, but a quick realization rooted me in my tracks.

Now was not the time. I wasn't yet renewed to my full potential. Battling a Third-Gen vampire without my complete strength would land me on the losing end.

What the bloody hell was Balthazar doing in Luther's club, anyhow? Had my son neglected to inform me of a family reunion? Weasel. This tangled web of lies and misinformation made me quake with fury. Luther's handle on this coven was questionable at best and reprehensible at worst. I would not allow this to go on any further.

But I'd deal with him soon enough.

Right now, I needed to find a way out of this place.

Not wanting to risk a confrontation with Balthazar or his men, I slid through the crowd like an unseen fog, leaving behind traces of disturbed air before disappearing through a back door.

I burst through a different passage that emptied me out into an abandoned alley and heaved as I swung the door shut behind me, my gut wrenching. The loud noises of the club mixed with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and blood, were overtaking my weakened body and making me nauseous.

I attempted to sort through thoughts of my brother's son and his men on Luther's grounds, but fragments of a distant past pulverized the concrete walls I'd built around my mind.

Arabelle…

At first, the only thing that kept me sane while I laid paralyzed in my coffin was her memory. But time has a funny way of toying with your sanity. The unbearable sorrow eventually grew worse with every image of her face. It was a constant reminder I'd never see her again, not even in death.

I'd chosen to lock the memory of her love away instead.

And now that woman…

The woman with the brilliant eyes that pierced through me like a spear had awoken something inside. I wished I hadn't been forced to leave so abruptly. What she did was a violation of their so-called treaty with my kind. She'd used magic on me and that was a punishable offense. It pained me to have left her there; I would've loved to wring every ounce of fear from her arteries.

The impertinence of her behavior made my insides blister. Or maybe, it was the ringlet of her potent scent wrapping around me as I'd hastened away from the married swarm of mortals and vampires that made my head swim with murderous thoughts.

Her blood hadn't reeked of impurities; it was sweet cream and honey, driving me to maddening hunger.

Fucking witches and their wicked games.

My head spun again, and I fell backward into the wall of the building next to me. Bracing myself, I took sharp breaths. I fucking needed to focus. Needed to feed, or I'd rip myself out of my skin.

Several yards from where I skulked in the shadows, my acute hearing picked up the dull thumping of footsteps. I peeled myself off the wall, careful to remain cloaked by the night.

Approaching the street, I slowly turned a corner and relief wove through my muscles. A trio of women stumbled out of the backdoor of an establishment, the rhythmic throbs of their hearts pumping blood echoing in my ears.

Every single one of my senses instinctively aimed themselves at one single purpose—to feed.

Adrenaline ran amuck in my body, inebriating my senses. I'd fantasized about this moment—about the hunt—for five hundred years. The unabashed intoxication of warm, fear-laced blood surging through my heart. My entire body tightened, coiling with anticipation. I licked the top row of my teeth, pressing my tongue against my fangs. Venom already dripped from their tips.

Adorned in modern attire, the three women locked elbows as they walked in unison in the opposite direction from where I stood. A low growl rumbled through my chest.

Time to stain the night red with mortal blood.

I stalked them, registering their distinct heart rates, their breathing patterns, the differences in their voices, and the intricacies of their movement. I became intimately attuned to each girl.

Could I have taken all three in a moment's breath? Undoubtedly, but it would've tainted the delicacy of savoring my kill. Hunting was about foreplay, not just about reaching the climax.

I stalked closer until one of them stood out as the more formidable prey. They wound down darkened streets, their anxiety perfuming the wintry air.

I smirked. Someone's instincts had kicked in. Though I'd stayed close to the shadows, all creatures had the ability to pick up on unseen cues. Looking over her shoulder, the girl with shoulder-length brown hair stopped walking, scanning the dark corners of the street for something she couldn't quite see.

"What is it?" her blonde-haired companion asked.

"I'm not sure…" she replied. "Just had the strangest feeling someone was following us."

Her two friends joined her in searching for the unknown threat. The blonde girl shrugged, smiling as if her friend was simply paranoid. But the third female, the one with violet streaks in her jet-black hair, snarled into the night.

She reached into her short fur coat and pulled out an object. "Listen, asshole," she shouted into the barren street, snowflakes covering the tracks their heeled shoes had left. "Unless you want your eyes burning with acid and your nut sack ripped off, I'd suggest you walk your ass back home."

"Stacy!" the brown-haired girl squealed, her nervous laugher carrying her voice down the street. "Don't piss off whoever is out there following us."

"I'm not afraid of some creep," the girl with the boisterous threat on her lips replied. "Let him try to come at me."

Oh, the fight in her…

My lips stretched into a wider grin.

She was perfect.

My ears twitched at the sudden change in heart rates. They wanted to appear unperturbed, but their animal instincts betrayed the coolness they tried to blanket over their faces.

The smiles they tossed in my direction, as if they believed only some imbecile lurked back here, failed to hide the intent behind their quick, shortened strides. They knew danger loomed as much as they wished to deny it.

One by one, the women went their separate ways, their departures sealed with strong embraces until only one remained, and not a single soul, except my own, accompanied her.

No longer needing the shadows, I stepped out into the light shining from the single lamp lining the street. I did not mask my footsteps as I closed in.

The brunette spun toward me, almost losing her footing. Despite the frostbitten night, sweat beaded on her forehead.

Her palpitations fluttered with a mix of fear and a desire to fight. Gripping something in her hand, she aimed it at me as she took small steps backward. "Stay back," she yelled, her eyes trained on me as her other hand mined for something inside her small, red satchel. She finally yanked it out. A cellphone.

I sighed. This new world loved to trample on my fun.

I'd felt the pull of the skin around my eyes moments before, which meant my irises were already flushed red. Flashing my elongated fangs, I crooned, "Don't trouble yourself, lass. This will be over before you have a chance to summon a knight to your rescue."

She screamed at my transformed face, dropping the canister in her hands as she wobbled out of her shoes and took off in a sprint.

A slow smile crept onto my lips. This was my favorite part. The chase.

Strolling at an even pace, I let her believe she had a chance to escape. I listened intently to the sound of her blood rushing to feed her muscles with oxygen. I inhaled deeply, absorbing the fragrance of her panic, that flight response hormone that could drive me into a frenzy.

But it wasn't quite as alluring as what came next.

In a streaking blur of speed, I took off after her, reaching the young female in less than half a second. I snatched her body mid-run, then dragged her behind a tall, stone building. The alley stunk of urine and garbage, but the sweet aroma emanating from her pores chased the offensive rank away.

I pinned her against the cold wall, pressing my body against hers, never once breaking contact with the terror flashing in her eyes. The girl fought to break free from my grip, but it was useless. My supernatural strength was an unmoving pillar against her mortal efforts.

Still, she was relentless.

"The pain is brief," I whispered, brushing my lips over her ear, hoping she'd stop wasting her energy. If she kept this up, she'd ruin the flavor of her blood with all this aggression. A little fight spiked the blood with a bit of spice, but too much and it became unsavory. "I give you my word."

She stopped squirming, brows knitting closer together as she took in my words. Confusion swirled across her face until the meaning of what I'd said buried its nasty claws into her flesh.

Eyes widening, she gasped, breasts rising and falling against my chest with each rapid inhale. That feistiness burning inside her refused to succumb. "Fuck you," she gritted as she spat in my face, tears rolling down her cheeks, eyes challenging me to do my worst.

I let the saliva drip down my jaw as I reached for the corners of her eyes, dabbing at the tears and licking them off my fingers. The strong salty taste burned my tongue.

Angry tears.

Any other time I may have ripped into her neck and snuffed away that seditious attitude before she could ruin my meal, but tonight, I felt somewhat gracious and gifted her a smile instead. Humans were mere sustenance, but I could appreciate strength even in a mortal. "Your will is impressive. You may have tempted me to break my oath had your aggression not been so overly rash, lass. But I have neither the time nor the patience to deal with a newborn vampire."

Not to mention I cared little to offer my gift again only to suffer another let down. Luther had proven to be quite the blunder.

The terror storming in her green gaze made my heart clench a little. She couldn't have known what awaited her, but my words had clearly suggested this wouldn't be a typical death.

I'd tortured her enough.

Grabbing her by the hair, I angled her neck and sunk my teeth deep into her flesh. The pressure of my needle-sharp fangs made her spine arch, the flaming sting I knew had shot through her nervous system making her body quiver in agony.

But her screams died in her throat. The drugging properties of the toxin coating my fangs and in my saliva was almost instantaneous, numbing the pain.

Her body fell limp in my arms, the toxin lulling her into submission. Holding her tight, I drank and drank from the wound, stealing her life, her warmth. Each pull of blood coated my throat with honeyed liquid and my gums throbbed as I sank my teeth deeper. I growled as if I couldn't get enough.

This. This… was everything.

The power surging through me made me lightheaded. The fibers of my muscles stitched themselves tighter. Bones splintered and healed simultaneously as they reinforced themselves, the pain masked by the euphoria riding the blood pumping through my heart.

My vision focused to a pinpoint. Hearing sharpened until I could home-in on the slight crunching noise a single snowflake made when landing on my overcoat. I pulled more blood, feeling my gut clench with more hunger.

No. No. I would not allow myself to be consumed by the sickness. Shaking the bloodlust from my nerves, I took the last gulp, listening for the quieting of her pulse before unlatching from her neck.

I lifted my head, lips soaked with blood, the trills of life singing throughout my body.

Lowering my eyes to the lifeless girl in my arms, her short memories flashed through my mind. She couldn't have been much older than twenty-five. An only child, her father had doted on her. He'd been the one to gift her the canister she'd held in her hand. For protection, he'd said. He'd underestimated the nature of the monsters prowling this city.

I cradled her cold body and sighed. She'd died with her eyes open, so I closed them with my fingers before breaking her neck. As I lay her body on the ground, the snow covered her corpse in a quilt of white.

What a rush. Releasing a sated breath, I smiled, silently thanking her for her sacrifice.

If my brother ever regretted not killing me, now he'd wish I'd never been born.