43. 42

42

Sam

Flashback…

T he morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of the hotel room, casting a soft glow on the scattered remnants of the night before. The air still held the faint scent of jasmine from the incense we had lit, now just a thin trail of smoke winding lazily upwards from the ash on the ceramic dish by the bed.

I sat on the edge of the rumpled sheets, my bare skin prickling with the cool air as I reached for my clothes. There was something decadently intimate about the disarray of the room—the two glasses stained with the residue of red wine and my lipstick on the bedside table, along with his shirt thrown carelessly over the back of a chair.

Ronan’s breath was warm on my shoulder, his kisses light and lingering. I threaded my arms through the sleeves of my shirt, the fabric hanging loose and unbuttoned over my torso. His hand traced the line of my spine, sending shivers down my body.

“When will I see you again?” Ronan’s voice was a low murmur against my skin, full of a longing that matched the tight pull in my chest.

“In a few days. I promise I’ll be back in time,” I murmured.

“Alright. If you don’t come back, I guess I’ll know my answer,” Ronan said, his voice a mix of jest and vulnerability as he rolled onto his back.

I turned to face him, meeting the intensity of his gray gaze, which held something more than just the aftermath of pleasure; it was brimming with an emotion I dared not name just yet.

He lay there, an embodiment of raw beauty and exposed desire, the sheets barely covering all his curves of lean muscle. His dark hair tousled, his thick five o’clock shadow only adding to his rugged sexiness. The sight of him, so open and unguarded, sent a pang through me, a reminder of all we stood to lose.

I finished tying my shoes, the simple action grounding me. I leaned over him then, and our lips met in a long, lingering kiss. His taste was familiar, a unique blend that was undeniably Ronan—undeniably mine. He was mine.

Reluctantly breaking away, I caught his gaze one last time.

“Take care of yourself,” I whispered, more a command than a request. With a final glance at the rumpled bed, I rose to my feet.

My heart was a tight knot in my chest, each step towards the door unraveling it bit by bit. It was never easy leaving. But we both had jobs to do. Responsibilities to take care of.

I closed the door behind me, the click of the latch echoing like a soft farewell I didn’t want, one that I was never ready for.

The door of my old truck creaked as I swung it open, the familiar scent of aged leather and gasoline greeting me like an old friend. I slid onto the driver’s seat, a frayed patchwork of colors worn down by time and memories. With a turn of the key, the engine rumbled to life, a stubborn growl that spoke of resilience despite years of wear.

I paused for a moment, hands resting on the steering wheel, the heat of Ronan’s kiss still lingering on my lips. Just then, the ring of my phone sliced through the silence. I fished the battered device from the pocket of my jeans, Serina’s name flashing across the screen for a facetime call. I answered and her eyes were puffy, her hair a mess, and she was ashen.

“Damn, you look like shit, Serina. What happened to you?” I asked, worry lacing my tone.

“Went on hunt, hunt went bad,” she coughed, groaning through the pain. She moved the phone to show me her wounds. “I need your help,” she said, sounding weak.

“I’m not close enough, Serina. Go to a hospital, call 911—you’ll die.” My words grew more panicked by the second.

“Where are you?” she questioned, but I swiftly changed the subject back to her.

“Get to the hospital now. I’ll be there in a few days,” I urged. Fuck, if she waited much longer, she wouldn’t make it.

My mind spiraled into a whirlwind of panic, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. Fear gripped me tightly, squeezing every ounce of rationality from my grasp. I could feel my hands trembling against the grip of the steering wheel. I couldn’t lose her too. Not after everything we had been through. My pulse echoed in my ears.

“What about Bri? How far out is she?” Serina asked on a whimper that broke my heart.

“She’s taking care of another hunt, and I haven’t heard from her the last few days. I don’t know where she is right now; she could be even further away than me. Forget someone coming to save you, Serina, get your ass to the hospital. Now,” I commanded and begged.

“I’ve used this name for too many hospital visits, Sam, I can’t. Besides, I think they’re catching on…

“The last hunt I went on, I overheard them talking about intercepting our information to be lying in wait for us to show up. I’m assuming that would also mean they could get access to our fake IDs, passports, etc. What hunts were going on, sounds like the hunted want to become the hunters,” she said.

I huffed, “Thanks for the heads up, cousin, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’m good at what I do.”

“I know…” she said, closing her eyes a moment. Another wave of panic rolled through me.

“Serina! Get to the fucking hospital… please.” I pleaded, the pain in my voice evident.

Her throat worked. “I know where I can go,” she finally said.

“Where? Please say the hospital.”

“It’s a long story. Stay safe, I love you,” she said, and if looks could kill she would already be dead…she faintly smiled back at me.

“Stay alive, Serina.” I gave her a warning look. “Or I will drag you out of hell myself if I have to.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grunted, “done that before.” She sat up then.

Where was she planning on going? She had been rogue for so long I was sure she hadn’t kept up with where all of our friends were. Fuck.

“I gotta go. Love you,” she said, pulling me back to our conversation.

“Love you, too. I’ll message you when I’m in town,” I replied quickly.

“Got it. See you soon, cousin,” she said, hanging up the phone. I tossed my phone in my passenger seat and backed out of the hotel parking lot like a bat out of hell.

I had to get to Serina.

The gas light had been glaring at me for the last ten miles, a persistent reminder that I was running on fumes—both literally and figuratively. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I scanned my rearview mirror for the umpteenth time.

That same sedan had been trailing me since I left the drive through on Route 29, its headlights a pair of unwavering eyes in the growing dusk behind me.

“Paranoid much, Sam?” I muttered to myself, chastising the creeping anxiety.

But the tightness in my chest wouldn’t ease, not with Serina’s shaky voice echoing in my head, her words from our last phone call replaying like a broken record. I turned up the radio, hoping to drown out my thoughts.

When the outline of a gas station finally emerged against the twilight sky, my relief was palpable. The sedan behind me didn’t follow as I pulled into the lot, instead continuing down the road and out of sight. I let out a breath and shook my head. I was losing it.

Inside the gas station, I grabbed an iced tea from the cooler and made my way to the register. The attendant was a bored-looking guy probably barely sixteen, his attention more on his phone than the customers.

“Forty on four,” I said, sliding a crumpled fifty across the counter. I flashed a weak smile and added, “Keep the change.”

Stepping back into the night, I felt the tension begin to seep from my shoulders. A few deep breaths and I’d be back on the road, just another hour or so and I’d—

My thoughts shattered as a rough hand gripped my arm and yanked me sideways, around the corner of the building. Instinct kicked in; I swung out blindly with my free hand, contact made with a satisfying thud against flesh.

But before I could pull away, another hand slammed against my chest, pinning me to the wall with brute force. Panic surged through me as I struggled, but it was nothing compared to the cold shock of loss when he ripped the vervain necklace from my throat.

“Fuck. No,” I growled. It was more than a silver necklace—it was protection. The assailant’s face was shrouded in shadow.

“We’re going to have a little fun, Sammy,” he hissed into my ear.

His words should have sparked fear, but instead, a fog began to creep through my consciousness, thick and cloying, like tendrils of smoke from an unseen fire.

At first, it was disorienting—a maddening sensation that clawed at the edges of my mind, blurring thoughts until they were out of reach. My pulse hammered in my temples as I fought against the invasion, desperate to cling to some semblance of control. But the more I struggled, the deeper I sank into the haze.

My limbs grew heavy, my movements sluggish, as if I were underwater. The resistance I’d mustered melted away, leaving behind a hollow shell obedient to him alone. His will pressed down on me, smothering, demanding submission.

I realized then that my wants, my desires—they were no longer mine to command. They belonged to him.

The terror of not being in control of myself settled cold and heavy in my chest, a stone sinking to the bottom of a dark lake. I was aware, so painfully aware, yet powerless to reclaim myself.

“Now tell me, is your wicked little cousin alive? Because I have a hunch that she may be the one tainting and killing my men.” His words pierced the air with a chilling certainty, and my heart clenched in a vice of dread.

The mention of Serina sent shockwaves through my trembling frame. No, I pleaded silently, desperately.

No. No. No.

“Yes.” With a voice not entirely my own, I whispered the damning truth into the suffocating silence. His grin was wicked then as he took a step away from me.

But I couldn't run. I was stuck here as if my feet were rooted to the ground.

“Get in your truck and follow me. We have work to do,” he said as he turned and sauntered over to that same sedan from before, twirling my necklace tauntingly in his fingers.

Fucking run, Serina.