5. Five

So this was Vastian Fane.

Mr. Darcy’s brother.

Adopted, I reminded myself, because this man was not only a Vampyr, but he was so utterly beautiful, I wanted to fucking gag.

His hair was like actual gold—shimmering and vibrant, so thick that he could’ve easily been misconstrued as a wolf. It hung down his chest in perfect waves. Well, it did—before our little rumble and tumble a few moments ago. I’d never actually seen a Vampyr before, but the stories were true.They were too stunning to be mistaken for humans.

He was a massive man with muscle on muscle. His eyes had an unnatural glow behind his pretty blue irises, which made them look more teal than anything else. And I didn”t want to get started on everything else. If I had to narrow down my type, he took the cake. All the cake. Frosting with little rainbow sprinkles.

It took all my self-control not to maul the man when he tried to kill me. I might be forward, but I wouldn’t force myself on him. That line never got crossed with me. Not to mention that he seemed genuinely horrified by the idea.

Vastian backed to the wall. His eyes darted, and his lips parted. “How do you know my name?” he asked, but it sounded more like an order.

Cocking my head to study him, I racked my brain for Vampyr stuff. Where did they live? Uh—somewhere far. Helpful, Atreyis. So helpful.

They were rare. It was so rare that none have ever graced the Under Cloud. Covens were a thing. Aristocratic, posh, and, judging by his demeanor, bloody prudes. But they were supposed to be the alpha predator—the tippy top of the food chain.

What was Mr. Darcy doing with an adopted Vampyr?

“You are part of a bargain. I bust you out, and your brother gives me what I want.”

His groomed brows pinched, and he shook his head. “My brother?”

“Adopted. Whatever. Regal Darcy.” I snorted when the name came out—that poor man.

His eyebrows somehow drew closer together. “Who is… Regal Darcy?”

Maybe he had amnesia. “Your brother. The fairy fucker. Magic trader. Smells like the wrong end of a cow?” I took a few steps forward, and he stilled.

His fangs weren’t visible anymore, and he nibbled his lip in a stupidly adorable way. What the fuck am I saying?

“I’m afraid you have been given false information.”

No. That wasn’t right. People didn’t lie to my face. They knew better. “We are busting out of here. If you die in the process, I’ll drag your body. But one way or another, amnesia or not, you’re leaving with me today.”

“I will do no such thing.” He straightened and tipped up his chin. As he did, I noted an odd mark on the left side of his neck. A teardrop? Dewdrop?

Groaning, I took a seat on the cot. He could throw a tantrum later. All the commotion dulled my drug hangover temporarily, but now it came rushing back. My stomach knotted, and my head geared up a stabbing ache.

Eventually, the guards would have to open that door. And when they did, nothing would stop me.

Raking my hands through my hair, I caught him watching the movement. Gently pushing off the wall, he lowered himself onto his cot. Then we glared at each other.

“Tell me about this… Regal person,” Vastian said after about an hour of silence and just as I was about to take a fucking nap.

Rolling on my side, I noticed he hadn’t moved from his seated position. His fingers were still laced together on his lap, and his haunting eyes locked on me. Fucking hell. He was intense. Perfectly still, and for the first time since I woke up, it dawned on me that the man hardly breathed.

“I was this close,” I held up my index and thumb, “to falling asleep. You have horrible timing.”

“I know.” His lips curled, and a fraction of a smile formed for a split second then dropped.

“He said you were his brother. Wrongly imprisoned or some sob story.”

“Who are his associates?”

“Fuck if I know.” I blew out my lips and rolled onto my back.

“What did he say about me?”

The knots in my stomach still hadn’t stopped their fucking twisting, and he wanted to play a hundred questions now. Of course, he did.

I want to die.

“That you have the largest cock in all the land, and you ejaculate chocolate.”

He made the most sensational noise—a cross between a gag and a gasp.

“He also said you have a bullseye tattooed over each nipple and enjoy lazy strolls on the beach. Your favorite position is missionary, and you have three big toes.” I honestly could”ve kept going, but he was turning colors when I glanced at him.

“In all my life, I’ve never heard such atrocities exit another”s mouth. I should have you flogged for a decade.”

Waving my hand dismissively, I rolled, offering him a look at my back. “Sensitive twat,” I muttered.

Wait—did he say flogged?Who the fuck said that anymore? I perked up, and he still stared at me with those freaky eyes. Sexy…but freaky. How old was this man? Vampyrs were supposedly long-lived. Some said immortal, but I highly doubted it. I was the only fucker who couldn’t die. He carried himself like someone important. He spoke like someone who had never seen dirt, let alone the grim parts of the Under Cloud or the ghettos of Veros.

“So,” I drew out the ‘o’. “Are you a prince?” I’d always wanted to fuck royalty. To say I did it. Come on! That would”ve been the story of the year.

He snorted. He fucking snortedlike it was the most ridiculous assumption ever. “My kind do not have princes.”

“A lord?”

“Not quite.”

“What then? You have that stick of pretentiousness shoved so far up your ass that you can’t be anything else!” I was fully facing him now and flung my legs over the side of the cot.

“Why won’t you die when I drain you? How is that possible?”

I grinned. “I don’t die.” Then I waved my eyebrows at him.

“Impossible,” he hissed.

“Tell me about it,” I scoffed and rolled my shoulders.

Alright, I was bored at that point. Heading to the bars, I unfastened my pants, whipped out my cock and started pissing. Vastian made that fun noise again. Part shock, part disgust. I winked at him and thrust my hips forward to get better aim.

“Oh no!” I feigned distress and angled the stream to attempt to write my name. “I seem to be pissing everywhere!” I said as loud as my voice would go.

Pounding footsteps approached, and even though I was well out of fluid, I still fisted my cock. When they skidded to a stop, stepping in my handy work, it was only a matter of time before they would break.

“What the fuck, Winters?” Todd said. I liked Todd on most trips to the penitentiary, but today he was standing between me and my fucking spell. Todd was also the easiest to rile up. So I stroked my cock a bit, and he squirmed.

“It just exploded out of me.” I widened my eyes and placed my hand on my hip.

“You’re twisted. Gods, it’s everywhere!” That one was Jaxter. Todd and Jaxter. Those were fun names, am I right?

“I’ll get the mop,” Todd groaned, and I knew I needed to up the antics.

So I spit in his face. That did the trick. He rushed the bars, barring his teeth and snarling. Come on, pup, open the fucking door. Vastian was on his feet now, arms crossed and watching with morbid fascination.

“Don’t do it,” Jaxter said, pulling on Todd’s shoulder.

“I’m sick of this. Sick of him.” He shrugged off Jaxter, and the door unlocked.”It”s like he”s here every week!”

Show time.

Stuffing my cock back in my pants, I blew Todd a kiss, and he flung himself into the cell. He tackled me to the floor, punched my face, and clawed at me like a wolverine. But little did he know—I waited for this moment.

Winking at Vastian, who didn’t move a muscle, I slammed my knee into Todd’s cock. He let out a whoosh of air and fell over. Jaxter’s turn. He was a slippery bastard and ported before I could reach him. Porters were the bane of my existence. They could teleport themselves or objects at will, which was flat-out unfair.

Jaxter reappeared somewhere behind me and shot me in the back. The joke was on him because I’d been stabbed, shot, and had my heart similarly ripped from my chest so many times that it didn’t phase me anymore.

Spinning, I disarmed him and grabbed hold of the pistol, but he ported again. This time, only his arm appeared through the rift in the ether, and he jerked the gun from me. In doing so, a round fired. The bullet hit right between Vastian’s feet. He snarled, and when Jaxter ported in front of him, the Vampyr moved.

As fast as fucking light, he somehow captured Jaxter mid-teleport and flung him to the ground. His bare foot landed on the wrist holding the gun, and the bones shattered. The cracking radiated down my spine. Then he hoisted Jaxter with a single hand and ripped his fucking throat out.

“Get out of my cell!” he screamed at me.

Hell, I didn’t make him do that.

“Come on, sweet cherub. Let’s not make a stink about this.” I grabbed Vastian”s arm and tugged.

The man didn’t move. He was like a fucking iron wall. Groaning, I yanked again and again until I was flopping his arm around, looking like an absolute fool. He opened his mouth to say something but stilled.

Mr. Darcy would get a firm spanking for being such a naughty boy. I had to remove a Vampyr who didn’t want to budge, and it wasn’t like I had super strength. If he thought that I’d be able to persuade this man with my charm and sweet ass, he was—

“Hello, Atreyis.” The voice clawed down my back and wormed under my skin.

After fifteen fucking years, his voice still had that effect. Relaxed, casual, and dripping with sexual energy that I could never comprehend. Aryn. My arch nemesis. The man who ruined my life.

Turning so slowly, I still kept my hold on Vastian and faced him. My stomach bottomed out in my ass. Nothing scared me. Nothing fucking scared me. But my armpits pooled, my throat clenched, and my heart raced a mile a minute. He entered the cell with a dominance that rivaled any king or conqueror. His fingertips were permanently stained black from countless hearts he’d eaten.

Literally.

Aryn was a demon—the worst kind—born in the fires of hell and made flesh in the physical world. His horns jutted from his forehead in black spirals aimed toward the ground. Subtle tusks protruded from his jaw. His dark skin was lacquered in a lavender hue, and his leathery wings were tucked on his back. The sharp talons on every tendon scraped across the stone floor.

“You’ve been busy,” he said, giving the cell a once over, and then his black eyes lingered on Vastian’s wrist. The wrist I held tighter by the second.Why the fuck couldn’t I speak? All words ceased to exist, and it was like the man inside my brain set the ability on fire and left me a daft mute. “I see you got my message. I trust you are well. Immortality can be quite the blessing after all.”

“Eat shit.” Smooth, Atreyis, real smooth. The epitome of danger.

Aryn laughed. The sound echoed off the walls like thunder, and somehow, a tiny bit of piss trickled from my cock. Snap out of it! He wasn’t that scary—nothing scary about a four hundred pound, seven foot, winged mass of demonic man meat. Something moved to my right, and I flinched. Oh—right, Todd was still there. He started to crawl, and that caught Aryn’s attention.

Goodbye Todd.

The weight of Aryn’s foot slamming down on Todd’s spine was enough to sever it, and he died instantly. How come everyone was dying except me?

“You’re treading in deep waters, Atreyis. And I can no longer turn a blind eye.” He dug his heel into the man”s back, grinding his bones and making all sorts of squishy noises.

“There was no way for me to know that garden was yours. Who knew demons loved their petunias?”

His eyes flared, then stilled. “Only you would make such a crude joke. After all, didn’t it happen in a garden? All those years ago.” Fuck.

Damn him and his stupid horns and smug face.

Remember that ice cream comparison? Well, this was like a fucking lobotomy. But instead of removing things from my mind, it rammed them in. Bubbles of everything I buried popped and splattered.

And I saw his face.The face I worked hard not to remember.

Blood oozed from his lips, the gags rattled in his chest, and his skin festered in green pustules. I could still feel his fingers clawing at my chest, gasping for air and begging me to save him—to fix it.

“Please remove him from my cell so that I can return to my quiet imprisonment.”

“Traitor,” I whispered to Vastian, who, oddly enough, didn’t move away or try to escape my grip.

Aryn closed the distance, and his movements shook the ground. Either that or I was shaking. We’ll go with the former this time. “You may be immune to death, but no one is immune to pain. Keep your nose out of my fucking business, Atreyis, or mark my words. Pain will ensnare you until the very essence of your soul ceases to exist.”