25. Kieran

My heart is heavy when I leave Lucien's flat behind. I don't want to leave him there, not really, but I'd been lying awake for two hours before I climbed out of bed, and once I'd started getting ready, I couldn't stop.

I get on the tube and drift through the mid-morning crowds, turning the night before over in my head. I can't help the smile that drifts over my face. I've never met anyone before who calls to me the way Lucien does.

As quickly as it arrived, the smile fades. That's the problem, isn't it? That's why I'm going where I'm going because a hard ball of worry has taken up residence in my stomach and if I'm right…

If I'm right, then I need to end things with Lucien. I might even need to leave the city entirely.

I take the stairs up to the street, shielding my eyes against the late autumn sun as I walk hurriedly towards my destination. I'm in neutral territory here, and that thought helps relax my shoulders as I realise that I am, despite the crowds, truly alone for the first time in days.

The shop I'm heading to is tucked between two others, and it looks narrow and shabby in comparison. Most people's eyes seem to glide right over it. I've never known for sure if that's just because it doesn't stand out in the colourful maelstrom that is this area of London, or if it's more intentional than that.

The sign above it is the same as it's ever been. Rowan Hawthorne, in a swirling script that brings a lump to my throat. I swallow and push open the door.

I step into a deeply shadowed room, an avalanche of clutter surrounding me. A bell above the door chimes as I close it and I wander into the space, eyeing baskets of crystals and wrinkling my nose at the overwhelming scent of perfume and incense.

Magic, as long as I've known it, has always been associated with freshness. Pine, sea salt, the wind through clean country air…

A noise comes from the back, and I turn towards it expectantly. I push my hands into my pockets to hide that they're unsteady. I hate how I feel when I come here, but there's nothing to be done about it.

A woman appears in the doorway, her light brown hair falling in a mess of curls to her shoulders. She's in her mid-fifties now, though she doesn't look it, and her blue eyes go wide when she sees me standing there.

"Kieran!" A smile spreads across her face. "What a surprise. You should've called ahead. I would've closed up for a while."

I shrug. "It's okay. I don't think I'll be here long."

Her smile dims, just a little, and that knot of worry twists into guilt. She shakes her head. "Let me close for now. No one's said they're coming, so…"

She brushes past me, and there is the clean scent of magic I remember, hidden under everything that fills her shop. Once the sign is turned, door locked, she moves past me again, beckoning me to follow her into the back.

I go. Pris was my mother's best friend back when my mother was still alive; she'd introduced my parents to each other. My childhood was full of memories of both of them, but after everything that happened…

She left.

Part of me doesn't want to blame her for that. I know well enough, now, what my father is capable of, and though she's never said so, I'm pretty sure she was driven out rather than leaving of her own accord. It wasn't her fault what happened after, and there'd been people right there who I hadn't allowed to help until I couldn't avoid it. She helped when I arrived in London too, but—

It's complicated.

I swallow a sigh and sit when she waves a hand at the small, round table that occupies most of the back space. There's a small kitchenette in here, a bathroom off to the side. I eye a board sitting next to the table with no small amount of scepticism.

"Doing seances now?"

Pris turns to look at me, then follows my gaze and rolls her eyes. "Not me," she says. "Not in my wheelhouse. There are a couple of young girls who come by. It's not in theirs either, but they really want to get into all that occult shit."

"What are they good at?"

Pris shrugs. She flicks the kettle on and starts making tea. I know she'll make it how I like it. She takes care to remember stuff like that.

"One might be a half-decent nature witch if she decides that's what she wants to do."

"The other?"

"She just wants to be like her friend." Pris carries the two mugs over and sets one in front of me. She pulls a face. "Not a hint of magic on her."

I hum and take a drink of the tea, letting it scald my tongue. I need to focus. This isn't a social visit, even if maybe it should be.

"How are things with you?" Pris asks. Her gaze is steady, assessing. "I take it you didn't come by to get more stakes."

I put my mug down. I'm not ready to talk about Lucien yet. "Drew's coming," I blurt out.

All the colour drains from Pris's face, her eyes going wide the same way they had earlier. "He… You're sure?"

"Yeah. He called. I don't know why. Maybe Dad finally fucking lost it, but he…" I swallow, looking down at my tea. "He's going to try on the next full moon," I say to the drink.

Pris makes a distressed sound. "Is that… wise?"

"I don't know," I say. "He must've spoken to Jeremiah to get my number, so they should be there to help him. He said he's gonna try when they're all sleeping. You—" My voice falters, but I force my gaze up to hers, force myself to continue. "You remember what they're like. They'll be wiped out. If he doesn't push himself too hard during the run, he'll be able to get away and get a good head start before anyone even realises he's gone."

Pris nods, her mouth pressed into a firm line. "Did you tell him where you are?"

"No. He's going to call me when he gets to the station, and I'll buy him a ticket. Meet him at this end."

"Kieran…"

"I don't think it's a trap. But if it is, I'm in public, and I know London better than they do." I shake my head. "After all this time, I think they've mostly forgotten about me."

It's been years since I left. Dad had no use for me back then. What would he want with me now?

Pris nods. She still doesn't look pleased, and I can't blame her.

"What about when he gets here?" she asks, apparently mollified enough by my precautions to move on to something more pressing.

"I asked Sam. Drew's going to stay with us for a while. I guess I'll have to work all that out after."

"Have you told him—"

"No."

She nods again and we're both quiet for a moment, taking sips of our tea. My heart thuds against my ribs.

Pris leans back in her chair, and when her gaze turns speculative, I know I'm not going to like what she's about to say. "And what about this vampire who's after you?"

I sigh. "It wasn't my fault."

She snorts. She's been getting me the stakes, after all, and I realise I probably should have been to see her sooner.

"No, I mean. What have you heard?"

"A clan vampire is after you. You killed his turns. Vampires are hunting him, and the hunters are on his trail, too."

I sigh and explain what's happened from beginning to end. Well, all the parts that involve Tristan, anyway. I speak around Lucien as much as I can, but I don't miss the way her expression changes at each mention of him.

Oh well. That's what I've come here for anyway.

"You have no idea where Tristan is?"

"Vasile knows that we've narrowed it down to the tube station, and Lucien is meeting Deacon tonight. I think they'll have told the Council, too. If they go back down there, they should be caught."

"Do you think you'll have dealt with him by the time Drew gets here?" Pris bites her lip. "I know you can't be certain, but—"

"I'm doing my best. If the wolves agree to help, that should make things easier."

Pris looks at me. "You're worried for Lucien."

"Yeah." I finish the rest of my tea. "Yeah, I am."

"How long have you known him?"

"Two weeks?"

"Does he know how you feel about him?"

I think briefly of sinking my teeth into Lucien's soft skin, of the way his moans sounded like music in my ears. My cheeks heat. "He has some idea."

Pris purses her lips. "And the thought of him meeting with a wolf? Being in danger?"

Pain flares, bright and panicked, in my chest. I clench my jaw, keeping my hands flat on the table, but I know Pris hasn't missed a thing.

Her face creases in sympathy. "Kieran…"

"It's not—" I cut myself off, shaking my head.

"You know what it sounds like."

I do. It's impossible, but I do. That's why I'm here.

I still shake my head stubbornly.

"Kieran. It's a mating bond."

I push away from the table, the chair tipping back to the floor behind me. There's not enough room to pace in here, so I just stand there for a second, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath.

Pris gets to her feet, rounding the table with her hands raised. "I know it's frightening. And confusing." She tilts her head to one side. "But it's not impossible."

"Of course it is!" I shake my head. "You know it is. I'm not a wolf!"

"What else could it be?" Pris asks, her voice hard and sensible now. I snap out of my panic, but dread still swirls in my stomach.

I have no traits worth anything to my family, and still, I have this.

"I don't know."

"Tell me the rest."

"I think I knew when I first saw him," I admit, the words coming out slowly, almost painful as they drip from my tongue. "There were… so many vampires. Most of them wanted to kill me, but as soon as I looked at him, they didn't matter."

"And now?"

"Now I can barely think of anything else." I cross my arms over my chest, then unfold them again, reaching down to set the chair straight. My movements are jerky and Pris doesn't shift from the spot she's in, watching as I sit down.

She only takes her place again once I take mine.

"Is that a problem? You seem to like him well enough."

I do, don't I? Not that we know much about each other, but I want to know everything. I frown. How much of that is the growing bond and how much is what I truly want?

Without the bond, I'd have let the fact that Lucien is a vampire prevent anything deepening between us. Right?

Even without it… Lucien is attractive. Beautiful. He's kind and protective, and I want to see him grow again, settle back into being whoever he was before he was hurt so badly.

I sigh. "I do. But what about him?"

Pris frowns. "What about him?"

"What choice did he have?" I set my jaw. "Look, I don't know the specifics, but I think he was hurt pretty badly recently. He wouldn't have decided to get closer to me if he could help it. What choice have I given him? What choice has this bond given him?"

"You know that's not how it works. If you weren't compatible, the bond couldn't have formed at all."

"Being compatible is one thing," I say slowly, struggling to articulate my racing thoughts. "But wanting someone is another."

Pris sighs. "What about the people around him?"

"What?"

"I don't know exactly what he went through, but Lucien is a chieftain, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Then I know—plenty of people know—that he withdrew from his position for a while." She raises a hand when I open my mouth. "I won't tell you why. All I know is rumour, and you need to hear it from him. But if he was hurt, what do the people around him think of you?"

I pull a face. It's not like any of them know what we did. Adam seems fine with me, and he seems to like Sam. Elle… Will she warm up to me more? They're important to Lucien. If they don't like me, then what will the bond do to him? Make him push them away? I can't have that.

"You need to do whatever makes you feel safest," Pris says, reaching a hand across the table. I take it without thought. I feel battered and bruised, and my throat is tight when she meets my gaze again. "And whatever keeps him safe, too. But consider that you might need to take a risk to truly feel that way. You know the truth of a mating bond just as well as I do. It doesn't make someone fall in love with you. You—Your mother would never have stood for something like that, would she?"

Heat pricks the back of my eyes. "No."

"So, what makes you think Lucien would, either?"

"I worry he's going to look at me one day and realise he never wanted this. That it's all fake."

Pris squeezes my hand. She swallows and shakes her head before she speaks again. "I've not seen you together. I can't say for sure. But even if he did, I believe in you, Kieran."

"What?"

"I believe you'd survive it. I never thought your father weak, and I know he was devastated after what happened, but what he became was… despicable. I don't believe you're the same. I know you're not."

I stare at her, stunned, but I don't know if the words make me feel better. What my father turned into after my mother died… None of us had seen that coming.

How can she be certain I won't do the same thing? How can anyone? I don't even know it myself. As much as I've suffered, as much as I want to be as different from my father as I can be, I just don't think it works that way.

"I don't know if you're right."

The words are hardly more than a whisper, and Pris doesn't let go of my hand.

"I am," she says firmly. "I just hope you'll believe it one day."

I convince Sam to come to the pub with me that evening. It takes hours before I even head back to the flat, walking in circles around Camden as I try to process everything I've just learnt about myself.

A mating bond is impossible. I'm human. Vampires can't form them. Only wolves can, but anyone can be on the receiving end.

By the time I get back, I've almost convinced myself it's not true. Lucien and I had an amazing night together, sure. But good sex is good sex, and it doesn't mean we're destined to be together, fatefully compatible.

"Something's got you all wound up," Sam mutters as we walk to the pub a couple of streets away.

That's the other thing. There's no mating bond—if I keep saying that, maybe I'll convince myself—but if I decide to take things further with Lucien and tell him about my past, then I owe that to Sam, too. We've been friends for so long. I trust him with my life.

"I'm fine," I say, and he shoots me a smirk. It's cold enough that he's actually wearing jeans, though they look painted on, and he's way more dressed up than I expect for an evening at the pub. It's still not dark yet, but pink is beginning to streak the sky.

We get to The King's Head and find a table, and I go to the bar to order. I tap my foot more out of nerves than impatience when I have to wait. It's not like I've not been outside since Tristan first grabbed me, but there's something different about being here, about not being on the move. Everyone in here's human, as far as I can tell, but my head is on a swivel, and I don't like standing here with my back to the door.

I order two beers and carry them back to the table, where Sam frowns but drinks anyway. Neither of us speaks until we're halfway down the first pint.

"You're kind of fucked up over Lucien, huh?"

I shoot Sam a glare. What answer even is there to that?

Sam stares easily back, though the corner of his mouth twitches. When he doesn't give in, I sigh.

"It's… complicated."

Sam nods. He takes a sip of his beer and seems to steel himself before he speaks again. "Does it have to be?"

Half a pint is not enough for me to open up, not yet. I shrug. "I don't know. It just is."

"You like him, though?"

I smile before I can stop myself. "Yeah, I do."

"That's something, at least." He reaches over and taps our glasses together. "Seems like you're both well-suited for each other."

There's no denying that, though I'm certain Sam doesn't know about the bond. "You're… okay with it?"

"Yeah, of course. Not that it's my business. Seems like you'll be happy together. Y'know, if that's where it's going."

I stare into my glass. "I think it is," I admit, and when I look up, Sam is watching me intently. "I know it's way too soon, but…"

Sam's smile is soft. "You think he's it?"

I press my lips together and nod. It's a foolish thought. Too soon, too simple. Mating bonds can't ensure everything will be okay, not when we know so little about each other.

"What's got you worried?"

"It's been two weeks."

"And what don't you know about him?"

I blink, rearing back in surprise. "Everything! And he doesn't know about me, either."

"The important stuff, though. Do you think he's got a secret cruel side? Do you think one day you'll wake up and not know who's sleeping next to you?"

"No." I swallow hard. The faint bond in my chest—the one I hope he can't feel, not yet—pulses in response. "I feel like I know the important parts of him. Most of it, anyway."

"I'm not saying don't be wary," Sam says. "But sometimes instincts are correct. Sometimes things do all work out, even if everything around us seems to say that's not the case."

"Sam…"

"We just need to deal with Tristan first, right?"

"And my brother's coming."

Sam nods. "And that, too. That going to be a problem for you and Lucien?"

I shrug, finishing the rest of my beer. I honestly don't know. I don't know how Lucien feels about wolves, although the way he spoke about Deacon makes me think he doesn't mind them much either way.

I don't know how Drew feels about vampires. That thought settles like a stone in my stomach. Fuck.

Adam's arrival distracts us, and from the way he and Sam smile at each other, I think I know how he knew where to find us. I escape to the bar for a few minutes and return to the table to find them already in conversation.

Adam looks up at me when I set the glasses down. His gaze is speculative, and I realise that he knows, which makes me swallow hard.

The speculation shifts into a wicked grin. "Have fun last night?"

I flush and Sam cackles. Okay, so maybe I was wrong when I spoke to Pris earlier. There's some caution still, in Adam's eyes, but his tone is all good fun.

"I did, actually," I say as I take my seat. "It was very… energetic."

"Ah!" Adam covers his face with his hands. "Okay, yeah, I don't wanna know."

Sam snorts into his beer. "What, is it like thinking about your parents doing it?"

Adam makes another distressed sound and Sam and I both laugh. "It's just weird. Not my business."

We settle into a conversation, and I realise I've missed my chance to talk to Sam tonight about who I am. Adam isn't going to leave until we do, or until Lucien arrives—and that thought has me dwelling on the fact that Lucien is meeting Deacon and although I know he's safe and I know Elle is there, I can't help the way I worry.

Sam catches my attention when I finish my second pint, shoving something across the table. I frown when I pick up the vape. I haven't smoked in years, though I was in the habit of it when I first came to London.

It used to piss my dad off something fierce.

"Ten minutes," Sam says when Adam opens his mouth. "In view of the window. I don't know what's going on in your head, but you look ready to crawl out of your own skin."

Yeah, I can't argue with that. Some alone time might do me good. We're sitting by the window in question, and when I stand, so does Adam, but Sam drags him back down again.

"We'll be right here," he says, more to Adam than me. "I mean it, Kieran. Ten minutes and stay in view."

"All right."

I escape into the cool night air, feeling grateful that Sam knows me well enough to know when I need time alone. I suck a puff of the vape, grimacing at the flavour. Sure, it's better than cigarettes, but I'm not sure bubble gum is my style.

I sigh, leaning back against the brick exterior of the pub. I'm in full view of the window, so I tilt my head back and allow my eyes to close for a moment.

For the first time, I allow myself to really feel the bond. I don't nudge it, not wanting to distract Lucien from what he's doing—if he can feel it at all—but just reach for it, letting the sensations flood my system.

I can't get much from it and I don't want to. All I want is reassurance that Lucien is alive and well, even though he's currently in the lion's den.

Well, the wolf's den.

Same difference.

"Idiot," I mutter to myself, opening my eyes again. I take another puff of the vape. The street is quiet, two older men nodding at me as they pass and enter the pub. Glancing through the window, I see Sam and Adam aren't paying me any attention, Adam enraptured by whatever story Sam is telling.

Maybe there's another reason he has no real problem with Lucien and me.

The thought tips the side of my mouth up, and I push the vape into my pocket. I'm standing on the brink of my whole life turning inside out, and I don't have much time to get things in order. I want to deal with Tristan first, but that's mostly out of my hands.

First, Drew. Then, Lucien.

"Or whatever," I mutter. The wind picks up, creeping under my jacket, but my nerves have finally settled. Lucien is with Elle, and they're safe. Sam is with Adam, and they're safe.

I push off from the wall, but as I take the first step forward, I freeze. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. There's no magic, but there…

Tristan strolls out of the shadows at the corner of the pub. He smirks when he sees me.

"It's been a while."

I grit my teeth. "What are you doing here?"

I have nothing to fight Tristan with and, with where I'm standing now, even if Adam or Sam look out the window, they won't see either of us. Not that I want them to look. I need to stop Tristan, but I don't want to start a fight here if I can help it; it's too much risk to anyone walking by.

Tristan bares his fangs. "You know why I'm here."

"You want to kill me."

He nods. Despite his run from the clan, he doesn't look any worse for wear, though I guess he's not been skimping on his feedings.

"They're gonna notice you're here."

"It's better for them if they don't." His gaze flicks to the window, then back to my face. "Although I have some thoughts about that."

I take a step away from the pub. I need to get Tristan away from here, away from any collateral damage he might inflict. "Oh? What thoughts?"

"Whether I should kill you first or all of your little friends."

He watches me move but doesn't seem to care; he indulges me with his own step away from the building.

"My friends?"

"The little mage you live with. All those humans you work with. Lucien and the other vampires who think they should cosy up to hunters." His grin widens. "Or maybe just your family. Your brother."

I freeze. "I don't have a brother." It's not a lie I've had to tell before, but it still comes out easy.

"We both know that's not true. Maybe I'll raze through the entire village. Maybe my friends will. Those friends you had watching over him are gone, and he's so vulnerable…"

"And you'll kill him? Them?"

Tristan bristles. "I'll tear their throats out and happily drink their blood. You know I will."

I tilt my head to one side, puzzled. There's no way Tristan should know about Drew, but he does—just not enough. He hasn't been to the village, that's for sure. Someone's told him, and whoever that person is, they're not his friend.

"So what's your decision?"

Tristan growls. "I want you to suffer."

"Why?"

That seems to surprise him. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you want to kill me so much? You didn't care about any of those people you turned. You just wanted to draw me out."

Tristan growls again. This one is deeper, more dangerous. Good. I'm hitting a nerve like I want to; it'll give me the upper hand.

"It wasn't about them," he hisses. "It was about him."

"Who? The first one?"

"Will."

"He was torturing a woman. Feeding from her. You know better than that."

Tristan's eyes flash gold and he takes a step closer. "I don't care!" he grinds out. "We should be allowed to feed as we wish. We're stronger than humans, faster—We're the next step up on the food chain. It is not for you to decide what we do."

"It's not for you to decide, either. Or did you forget about your clan?"

"They did not defend him. All that energy they're wasting searching for me? They should have spent some of it looking for you." He sneers. "Not that you were hard to find."

"I wasn't hiding." Not from the vampires.

"They should have brought you in and torn you apart for daring to harm one of us. Instead, they said he got what he deserved. He'd committed a crime, and we were lucky—lucky!—that the Hunters' Council hadn't caught wind of things and decided to investigate."

I take another step away from the pub. Surely Sam and Adam have noticed I'm now out of their line of sight. I don't want them coming out here. Tristan watches as I move, shifting so I'm facing the building, my back to the street.

"Then he came to me," Tristan says, and my attention jerks sharply back to him.

"He?"

"He hates you," he says, ignoring the question. "But he hates Vasile more. He wants to destroy the crai before he kills him."

"And what about me?"

Tristan tilts his head to one side. He inhales, and his eyes flash gold again. "We argued about you. It's why my little witch and I came back. She wants your mage. I want you."

I scowl. Sam? What's he got to do with any of this? Sure, he was with me when we came across William and his victim, but even if they were watching us, they'd have seen that Sam didn't hurt him. He went straight to the woman; tried to save her.

"Your new master," I say, and Tristan bares his fangs. "Who is he?"

Tristan smirks at the same time I spot movement past his shoulder. Sam's pale face appears in the glass window fixed in the pub's door.

"Doesn't matter, does it?" Tristan says. "He wants Vasile to suffer, and I want you to. Seems the easiest way would be to hurt you, or your brother, or Lucien…"

I swallow down the burst of rage I feel. "I don't think you're capable of it," I grind out. "I don't think you could kill me even if you tried."

Tristan snarls. As Sam steps out into the night, Adam on his heels, Tristan's eyes flash gold again and he bounds forward, grabbing me by the front of my T-shirt. Magic prickles over me, and it's not Sam's.

"I'll tell your brother you missed him," Tristan murmurs when he drags me close.

I sail back through the air as Tristan lets me go, slamming into the windscreen of a car parked across the street. For a moment, all I know is pain, until I feel magic strong enough to choke me. Adam's snarl cuts through my awareness and I groan, trying to lift my head.

Shouts of surprise fill the night. Sam is the first to get to me, eyes big as he looks me over. "Fuck," he hisses, voice shaking. "We need to…"

"Get me out of here," I manage. I don't think anything is broken. Glass pierces through my jacket in places. Fuck, it hurts.

"Kieran…"

"Tristan?"

Sam swears again. "Gone."

"Adam?"

"I'm here," Adam says from my other side, and I focus on his face, blinking lazily. Am I losing blood? It feels like it. "Fuck. You—Fuck."

I suck in a breath. We don't have long before other people try to interfere, and I can't go to a hospital. I grind my teeth, focusing on the pain for a brief moment to try to centre myself. "Back to the flat," I all but growl. "Now."

"You need a hospital." Sam's voice is firm.

"No. Home. Please."

My vision blurs. If I lose consciousness, it's over. Sam and Adam are silent—I don't know for how long—and I stretch out my fingers, pushing through the pain as I try to sit up.

"Fucking—Stop. We've got you. I've got it." Sam is suddenly in my space, helping lever me up into a sitting position. He turns to look at Adam. "Go deal with them. I'll take him home."

"There's a lot of blood." Adam's voice is hushed.

"I know."

Adam moves away and I squeeze my eyes shut, clenching my jaw as Sam helps me off the car and I stand on shaking legs.

"Kieran," Sam murmurs. "It's really bad, okay?"

I know that. Pain rolls through me, and I want to throw up, but I also really want to go to sleep.

Neither is an option. I nod, trying to ignore the way sweat is rolling down my face even as I feel so, so cold.

"Home," I repeat. "Sam, trust me."

Sam sighs heavily. "I'm starting to think I shouldn't."

"Please."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay."