Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dimitri

The Dawnbringer Talisman was smaller than I'd thought and surprisingly light. Hollow, with the dial nestled inside a ring. Jaxon said when used, the sundial would spin faster and faster. Like a magical fidget spinner. Great.

He gave me the spell word to use it: Kairos. How very Greek tragedy of them.

I tucked the talisman into my leather jacket, patting it. Jaxon had warned me it was powerful. Fantastic. Another cosmic whoopee cushion to add to my collection of "Things That'll Probably Get Me Killed."

Great. A magical vampire-draining talisman. Just what every immortal needs to spice up their eternal existence.

I eyed the thing warily. Sure, it might only suck the life out of the vamp wearing it, but with my luck? I wouldn't bet my vintage bourbon collection on it being that simple. For all I know, this mystical piece of junk could turn every bloodsucker in a mile radius into a withered prune.

Not exactly encouraging. But then again, when has anything in my unlife ever been straightforward?

Right. Jaxon. Almost forgot about our little magical handcuff situation. Time to play supernatural locksmith, I suppose.

Help Jaxon? Please. The guy's like a firefly compared to my supernova. But fine, I'll throw him a bone. Maybe watching him fumble with his newfound freedom will be entertaining. Plus, it's always nice to remind everyone who the real power player is around here.

I stalked back and forth, wearing a trench in my floor while waiting for Gianna to finish getting ready. Any minute now, I expected the high priestess to come zooming up on her broomstick, cackling like a demented Mary Poppins.

"How the fuck," I muttered, "did I find myself in another of Petar's tangled webs?"

As if summoned by my irritation, Petar materialized in the doorway. "Ah, Dimitri. I trust you're prepared for your journey?"

I spun to face him, eyes narrowing. "Oh, I'm prepared alright. Prepared to ask why you conveniently forgot to mention the talisman's little...quirks."

Petar's eyebrow arched. "Quirks?"

"Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you," I snapped. "Jaxon spilled the beans. This thing's a vampire in its own right. Drains life-force, weakens abilities, the whole nine yards. Care to explain why that slipped your mind?"

A shadow passed over Petar's face. "I see Jaxon has been...talkative. The talisman's nature is complex, Dimitri. I didn't think?—"

"You didn't think I needed to know it could turn me into a feral, sun-sensitive wreck?" I interrupted, voice low to avoid Gianna overhearing. "Stellar plan, really. Send me off with a magic battery drainer to meet the vampire mafia. What could possibly go wrong?"

Petar stepped closer, his voice equally hushed. "The benefits outweigh the risks, Dimitri. In the right hands?—"

Petar's lips curled into a Cheshire cat grin. "Change of plans. We're not going to give that to Angelo."

I shot up, my eyes narrowing to slits. "What?" I growled, feeling my fangs itch to descend. "Why the hell not?"

Petar opened his mouth to respond, but footsteps from the other room silenced us both. I shot Petar a warning look that could've melted steel. This conversation wasn't over, but Gianna didn't need to be dragged into it. Not yet anyway.

As Gianna entered, I plastered on my patented smirk, shoving down the anger bubbling in my chest. "Ready for our little road trip, sweetheart?" I asked, my tone lighter than a soufflé. "New Orleans is lovely this time of year."

Her dark hair was pulled up into a loose bun, and she had on the green silk top and black mini skirt I'd picked. She looked like a million bucks, and she was all mine. My eyes couldn't help but trail appreciatively over her figure.

"Not really," she said, exhaling a shaky breath that made my dead heart twinge. "Facing my brother is the last thing I want to do right now."

"Then you shouldn't have mated with my son," Petar said, his voice as warm as a Siberian winter.

My eyes blazed with a cold fire as I smoothly inserted myself between Gianna and the paternal pain in my ass. "Careful, Dad," I drawled, my voice dripping with venom-laced charm. "Your Siberian chill is showing. And here I thought global warming was supposed to thaw out fossils like you."

I felt my fangs itching to descend, the familiar rush of predatory instinct surging beneath my skin. Leaning in close, I locked eyes with dear old Dad, my smirk razor-sharp. "Let's get one thing crystal clear. That ‘mate' you're so casually dismissing? She's family now. And unlike some people, I actually know how to treat family."

Petar's eyes widened, shock rippling across his face like he'd just been slapped with a century's worth of karma.

"So here's a pro tip, Pops," I continued, my tone light but laced with unmistakable menace. "Next time you want to play the disapproving father card, remember: I've got eternity to make your life hell. And trust me, I'm creative."

Gianna's eyes flashed, and I felt a surge of pride at her fire. "Who I chose as my mate is none of your concern, Petar." She looped her arm through mine, the warmth of her skin a stark contrast to my own. "Would you mind getting the bags?"

I flashed Petar a smirk that was equal parts triumph and warning as I escorted her out of my apartment. The sun still lurked behind the quiet ocean, everything seeming to hold its breath. Not even the gulls were awake, which was eerie in itself.

A movement caught my eye, and my breath caught in my throat. My muscles tensed, ready for the high priestess to yell out "checkmate" like some twisted game of magical chess.

But it was Jaxon who emerged from the shadows, his face tight and drawn, arms crossed like he was holding himself together. He didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke volumes. I had the sinking feeling he was making sure I was leaving, knowing the high priestess would turn him into her personal pi?ata for information.

The only reason he'd helped me steal the talisman was his hatred for her. She had him on a tighter leash than a show poodle, and all he wanted was to escape. He'd only agreed to help if I'd loosen some of the magic binding her to him. I'd promised I would, adding another peso to my already overloaded burro of obligations.

When I used it, she'd know faster than a vampire could drain a sorority girl. And I was dead certain she'd immediately contact Angelo. He was almost as powerful as Dracula, and I'd bet my vintage bourbon collection he'd think I was going to use the talisman against him.

I felt like I'd stepped on a rattlesnake with no antidote in sight, the venom of consequences already coursing through my veins.

Petar came down the stairs, his knuckles white as he gripped our bags. The limousine he'd rented waited for us, sleek and black as a panther. I couldn't help but smirk as I watched him, the hired help. The fury in his eyes was as satisfying as a perfectly aged whiskey.

I absently fingered the talisman through my jacket, wishing it could grant me the power to read minds. Why didn't Petar want to give this magical kryptonite to Angelo? My jaw clenched. Why hadn't it hit me before? Petar never liked to do his little crimes on his own. There was usually some big guy like Angelo Santi behind him. He had to be working with someone else. It was the only thing that made sense. Someone else wanted this, and whatever the reason, it wouldn't be good.

Gianna's gaze drifted up to Augustus and Louise's apartment, her eyes holding centuries of experience. "Are you sure we don't have time to say goodbye to them? I feel like a thief disappearing into the night."

Damn it. I stole that talisman, and now she's paying the price. The guilt gnaws at me, but there's no time for a pity party. We need to move, fast. I owe her this much—hell, I owe her everything.

I opened the limousine door for her with a flourish, my voice tinged with dark humor. "No, we don't." I slid in next to her, the leather seat cool against my equally cool skin. "They'll get over it. We've all had practice with disappearing acts over the centuries, haven't we?"

She shrugged, her shoulder brushing mine. "Perhaps." Her voice held the weariness of almost four hundred years.

As the driver loaded our bags into the trunk with muted thuds, Petar got in on the other side. Gianna was locked between us, three ancient predators in a deluxe cage .

The driver pulled away from the faculty apartments, the tires crunching softly on the gravel. My stomach swished uneasily, a feeling I wasn't used to anymore. My eyes weren't focused on Augustus and Louise's apartment, but on my brother and Rose's. They were my family, and I had just stabbed Valentin in the back again.

I swallowed hard, tasting bitterness. This was the only way to keep him safe. He could hate me all he wanted, but his contempt was worth it. The danger would be far from him, and the only one who would get burned would be me. I clenched my fists, embracing the familiar gesture of frustration I'd perfected over my long existence.

As the familiar buildings faded into the distance, I felt a piece of myself being left behind. The talisman seemed to pulse against my chest, a constant reminder of my dangerous choices. Beside me, Gianna sat still as only a centuries-old vampire could, her eyes reflecting the shadows of too many goodbyes.

We pulled into a small airport I'd never seen before, the kind that screamed private and obscenely wealthy. The Dragan family didn't have a private jet—we were more the first-class commercial type—but the Santi family? They probably had a fleet. This place was just a few miles from Goody Magic, close enough to be convenient, far enough to be discreet.

The driver dropped us off in front, the gravel crunching under the limo's tires like bones. I got out, the crisp air hitting me like a slap, and helped Gianna out of the limousine, her hand cool in mine .

"Petar," she said over her shoulder, her voice dripping with centuries of aristocratic command, "Grab the bags."

His hiss was music to my ears. I smirked, savoring the moment like a fine whiskey.

I followed Gianna as she led me to her family's private jet, a sleek beast that looked like it could outfly most military aircraft. Her back was stiff, her walk brisk, heels clicking on the tarmac like a countdown.

"Gianna," I said, clasping her arm, feeling the tension in her muscles. "You seem upset. What's wrong, did they forget to stock the caviar?"

She blinked back what looked suspiciously like tears, and my smirk faltered. "I'm afraid of what Angelo will do."

Her words hit me like a splash of vervain to the face. Her words hit me like a splash of vervain to the face. I winced, recalling the burning sensation of that cursed herb that weakens our kind and protects humans from our influence. Angelo coming after us both? That's a nightmare I hadn't let myself consider. For a split second, raw fear clawed at my insides—not just for her, but for us. Damn it. We were in deeper than I thought.

Fear or no fear, one thing was crystal clear: I'd stand between her and Angelo, Vampire Mafia King or not. Hell, I'd take on the whole damn supernatural underworld if I had to. No one touches what's mine.

I lifted her chin, staring into her wet eyes. They held the tales of centuries, and for a moment, I felt young. "About me? Come on, I'm charming. Who doesn't love me?"

She gulped, placing her trembling hand on my chest. " You need to know that Angelo has made my lovers either leave or disappear." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe you should stay here. As long as I go home, he'll probably leave you alone."

I cocked an eyebrow, my trademark move. "Probably? I don't like those odds. Besides, I look terrible in milk carton photos."

She shrugged and lowered her gaze, a gesture that seemed too vulnerable for a vampire her age.

I put my hand over hers, feeling the phantom warmth of a connection that defied our predatory nature. "Gianna, we're mates. Could you really be separated from me? I mean, I know I'm irresistible, but this is next level."

"No, I couldn't," she admitted, a smile tugging at her lips despite the worry in her eyes.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, breathing in her scent. "We'll figure this out together, Gianna. We're meant to be together. And if Angelo doesn't like it, well...I've always enjoyed a good family drama. Keeps eternity interesting."

As we stood there, the private jet looming over us like a promise—or a threat—I couldn't shake the feeling that we were stepping into something bigger than both of us. But with Gianna in my arms and the talisman a constant weight against my chest, I was ready to face whatever came our way. After all, what's the worst that could happen when you're dealing with vampire mafia, ancient artifacts, and centuries-old family drama?