9. Nine

No one died that wasn’t supposed to, but I was deceived. Lied to and led along. The one fucking thing I wanted didn’t even exist.

Alora warned me about doing business with Mr. Regal Darcy. Alora is a tale for another time, but I had someone actively telling me it was a bad idea, and like the idiot that I am, it didn’t matter, and I mindlessly swan-dived into the ocean of hope. Hope didn’t exist for me. And it was about damn time I just accepted that I’d never die and would have to live with what I’d done forever.

Mr. Darcy died a long time ago. But I couldn’t stop. My fists hammered away as if I needed to hollow out a mountain. Bloody pulp flung everywhere. He was no longer recognizable as a person. Gunshots fired off in the hall, and I didn’t care. Screaming, chaos and the slippery sounds of gore filled my ears, but I was somewhere far away. Innocent people would die tonight.

Anyone and everyone who was in on this would have to face me.

Because this was…

Firm hands gripped my shoulders—strong, large hands—and I blinked. Finally, I was able to break out of the frenzy I’d fallen into. “Atreyis,” Vastian said from behind me.

At one point or another, I’d stumbled into the adjoining room to the right of the office. The corpse was underneath me, and we were both on top of a bed. I’m assuming it was Darcy”s bed. He had nice sheets.

My breath was shaky at best, and my knees sank in a pool of red.

It was silent now—graveyard emptiness. “Atreyis, it’s over. Stop this.”

Turning to glance over my shoulder, I met Vastian”s teal eyes. His golden hair was stark red, his mouth was stained, and his yellow paisleys were orange. This man fought—killed. Why?

He could have high-tailed it, and I wouldn’t have cared. I’d have just stayed where I was until my arms gave out.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around my torso and pulling me off the bed.

“Why are you still here?” I snapped, jerking out of his hold. He didn’t get to touch me now, not like this.

Wiping his mouth and chin with his sleeve, he glanced at the carnage in the hall. “This was a blood ring.”

What?

My face must’ve conveyed my confusion because he continued, “A group of individuals that hunt my kind. That creature,” he pointed, “had a tether. It’s what they use to subdue us, drain us, and then kill us. If he knew who I was—this goes far deeper than a couple of humans looking for revenge.”

“No one gives a flying fuck about you,” I growled and stormed past him.

I needed a drink. Or seventy. The entire bar.

Vastian followed me. I knew he was a sitting duck out here, but everything felt wrong. It was bad and painful—all the feelings that I decided fifteen years ago I’d never deliberately feel.

Dragging my worthless body to Mr. Darcy’s liquor cabinet, I didn’t even bother with a glass and took the entire decanter, popped the lid, and chugged. Vastian folded his arms in the archway of the foyer, watching me with pitiful eyes. He didn’t know me well enough to pity me. He didn’t understand that this was my last option.

And as much as it fucked me up to say it—I couldn’t kill Aryn. Had I been able to, it”d have solved all my problems.

“What did that demon say? Something about keeping out of his business? I suspect his business coincides with this bloodring. If it is true…” he trailed off.

When the decanter was empty, I felt better but still unsatisfied. I needed more—much, much more. “Enforcers will be here soon,” I brushed past him and headed for the door.

Again, he followed. For someone who had zero interest in leaving his prison cell, he sure as hell was determined to be up my asshole. Where was that sentiment at the grotto? When my cock was all but bursting at the seams?

On the street, the night was still young. Nothing mattered anymore. And when nothing mattered, where did one go? The Under Cloud.

“Will you stop for a moment and listen to me?” Vastian growled and grabbed my arm. What was with all the touching?

“Nothing you have to say will change anything. You might be in a tight spot, but I’m not and intend to be. Tight, wet, and hot.”

“The Under Cloud then?” he sighed.

I nodded once and kept walking. He didn’t leave my side.

The entire trek to Ariel and Chris’ house took about two hours, and Vastian hadn’t said a word to me. He was deep in his head, though. The pinching of his eyebrows every so often and the occasional grunt gave that much away. But I was still reeling from what happened. So when I walked through the door, and Ariel gave me that look she always does, I didn’t want to hear it.

She claimed it was her concerned face—concerned for what? It wasn’t like I’d die…ever.

“Who is this?” Chris chirped from his seat on the sofa. A lit cigarette pressed between his fingers.

He looked like a fucking cat, even in his human form.

His eyes were more prominent than they should be, brighter than most. His delicate facial features and short brown hair reminded me of fur. He had a sleek, toned body along with those glaringly obvious attributes. How he managed to woo Ariel’s voluptuous predator ass, I’ll never know.

“Vastian—Chris.” I waved my finger between them, and they did that stereotypical male nod of acknowledgment. Gag me.

Ariel closed the distance and looked me over like I was a child. Then she perked up on her toes and whispered in my ear, “Derek is upstairs again.”

“Exactly what the doctor ordered.”

Thank the gods. I knew that pup wouldn’t be able to stay away, but it was quite literally divine intervention that he was there then because I needed something—anything but the feeling that burrowed inside me. Vastian cleared his throat, and I remembered he was still in soiled paisleys. He’d have to fucking wait.

“I’ll be about an hour. Ariel, will you… I don’t know. Do something with him?” I waved my hand and headed for the stairs.

“This is bloody awkward,” he said as I disappeared from his view.

Bursting through my bedroom door, I didn’t care that I was gross, sticky, and had layers of caked-on blood all over me.

I saw Derek and pounced.