“She’s got some balls; I’ll give her that.” Damien states, sitting his massive frame in the chair next to mine as we watch Scarlett walk around the club as if she hasn’t a care in the world. She stops to chat briefly with various members of my staff.
The ones she speaks to display a liking for her, while others show open disdain. I make a note of the ones she didn’t bother with, planning to deal with anyone who has shown her disrespect. I want her to feel comfortable staying here.
“She looks pissed off,” Damien comments, his head cocked to one side, curiosity shining in his eyes.
I’ve been waiting for him to comment on me allowing her to stay, but so far, he hasn’t said a word about it, which is a surprise. He’s never withheld his opinion before, whether I liked it or not. He’s one of the few males I allow such liberties from, and if he were anyone else, he’d be six feet under by now.
I scratch at my cheeks, feeling the hair that has grown over the last few days, and watch her on the TV monitors. I haven’t slept much lately, and shaving has been the last thing on my mind. I keep trying to figure out my fascination with her. It just doesn’t make sense. Fuck. I can’t explain it. I hate witches and seeing as though none have been spotted in so long, I really thought they’d been wiped out. Finding out how wrong I was shook me. I’ve been avoiding her, and my demon is less than happy about it. He’s pissed about how much time I’ve been spending with Aria, too. He keeps urging me to hurt her, but I cannot allow it to happen. Not until I get to the bottom of who has been feeding her information.
I finally let Aria go a few hours ago and she left. For how long, I have no idea. It wouldn’t surprise me if she shows up unannounced again, but I have informed my men to let me know the second she sets foot back on my property. I know I can’t trust her.
Intel came in late last night and I plan to share it with Scarlett soon. I instructed one of my men, Logan, to investigate the tapes from the night her sister went missing. She was seen entering the club with her friends and spoke to several different people in the time she was here. Other than that, nothing; not one speck of evidence. We don’t know if she left on her own or with a male or female. There was no footage of her leaving the club, only of her friends leaving without her. She just disappeared.
I now have him reviewing the video from the private areas of the club and some of my other men have been out questioning people in my territory. Their goal is to find out who else has gone missing and see what connections there might be between them. I was livid with the information that came back; more people have gone missing than we expected. I have feelers out, looking for informants and the lack of response has been infuriating. I’ve instructed Damien to send men out to other territories for information, to have them stick to the shadows. They should be able to find more out that way.
Something is happening, something bad. I can feel it in my gut. I sent invitations to the leaders of the other territories. Two of my men, Jasper and Rowan, have gone to the Fae’s region, and I don’t expect them back anytime soon, if at all. The Fae aren’t exactly known for their hospitality. They are not at all like the tiny, winged people from human fairy tales. Most are full-sized; six feet or more in height. They’re striking to look at, so beautiful it’s hard to look away. Long white hair and piercing blue eyes are their calling card. I’ve only met a few, and it was many generations ago.
The Fae are very private and it’s rare for them to leave their territory. They don’t like mixing with other Naturals, let alone humans, and getting information from them can be nearly impossible. I’ll be surprised to get anything back from them at all, but I must try. They will be needed if my suspicions of what is coming prove correct. I just hope I’m wrong.
I’ve also sent Duncan and John into Nathan’s territory, and Parker and Asher into Jacob’s. Now all I can do is wait to hear back.
“How the fuck have they managed to be under our noses this whole time without us knowing?” Damien asks, startling me from my thoughts. He’s clearly baffled, his eyes locked on Scarlett. “From what she’s told us, there could be fucking hundreds of the bastards. When was the last time either of us ran into a bloody witch? It must have been at least a century, maybe more. There’s been no sign of their existence for generations. Surely we should have known?” He turns his head to look at me.
I’m just as perplexed as he is, and it’s starting to piss me off. How the fuck had they managed to hide in plain sight? I have every intention of finding out. “I don’t know,” I reply, taking the last puff of my cigar before stamping it out in the ashtray. “She’s been truthful up to a point, but I know she’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but rest assured, I will find out.” I pause, thinking back to the last witch I saw. It was incredibly unpleasant. She had been chased down and gutted, nothing left of her.
“I saw what I thought was the last one about a hundred and fifty years ago. She was from one of the last covens,” I tell him, never taking my eyes off the red-haired witch on the monitor. The old witches were evil cunts, every last one of them. Ice ran through their veins. We were all better off with them dead. The witch in front of me though, she’s… different. I know she’s a witch, she hasn’t tried to deny it, but she is nothing like the witches I remember. There’s something about her, something she hasn’t told me. “She was believed to be from the last coven to exist. The old council wanted to make sure none were left alive. You know they had them hunted down and gutted.”
Damien’s phone rings, interrupting the conversation. I focus once more on the monitors; on the woman I can’t seem to get out of my mind. I notice she’s stopped to speak to Dora. Dora’s great-great-great grandparents had been the first people to work for me and her family has remained in my employ all these years. They are some of the only humans I’ve ever trusted. I can still remember how her mother looked when she was pregnant with her.
Dora and her children are part of my… family. I know it would shock most people to know that I have anyone I consider family. I like to keep my ties close to my chest, out of fear that the people I care for could be used against me. I would never allow anything to happen to her or her children. Dora’s ancestors knew about us before we stepped out of the darkness many centuries ago and remained by my side through the war between Naturals and humans. They’ve been with me since.
Damien’s phone call grabs my attention away from Scarlett and my thoughts about Dora. His expression has hardened in anger, and his voice has been rising steadily. He’s yelling into his phone now, obviously displeased by the results my men are having in their search.
I have a shit feeling about all of this.
“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Damien shouts. Cursing under his breath, he growls as he listens to whatever he’s being told by the person on the line. He runs his hand over his bald head, eyes flashing crimson with anger. “Make bloody sure it does not compromise you and get your asses to the pickup point. Ben and Tony will wait for you,” he commands just before hanging up, not giving them a chance to respond.
He violently slams his phone down on the desk, and I wait, knowing he will tell me what’s going on once he’s calmed down a bit.
He groans, scrubbing at his face with his hands, and mutters under his breath before turning to me. “They think they were spotted in Nathan’s territory.”
“Think?” I reply, frowning. This could turn into a shitshow. Are they really so incompetent they couldn’t manage to stay hidden? These assholes are meant to be some of my top trackers. That does not bode well.
“They either were, or they weren’t. Fucking hell. Bloody useless assholes.” I shake my head in disbelief, my face darkening in anger. My demon lets out a low growl; even he knows how bad this could be.
Nathan is a right bastard. A deadly one. All the rulers have to be in order to survive. Otherwise, we risk being challenged by those who are supposed to follow us, and chaos would ensue. The law states that if one of us must enter or send men into another’s territory, we are to send a personal message to the leader of said territory. The laws are old and enforced by the council. It is rare for the leaders to go past their own borders, and rarer still for invitations to be granted. I haven’t attempted to meet with another leader since the last conflict.
By sending my men into other territories without seeking permission, I was breaking the laws meant to protect us. But sometimes the situation calls for rules to be bent, and I know I’m not the first leader to have broken this particular law. Hell, some of my men came from Nathan’s coven of vampires and Jacob’s pack of shifters. I’m torn. The men I’d sent out have shown me their loyalty, and I return my people’s loyalty tenfold. However, if my men are caught, then it’s the right of the leader of that territory to deal with them as they see fit. All the rulers agreed upon that when the law was first made.
“Something is going down,” Damien says. “There are more patrols than usual.” He pauses, pouring two glasses of brandy and passing one to me before sipping his own. He begins to pace in front of me. “In every single one of the patrols they saw, at least two of Nathan’s top men were among them.”
It isn’t unusual to send high-ranking soldiers on patrol. I even go out with my own men on occasion. What is unusual is to see so many of them in such a short period of time. I agree with Damien. Something is going on, and I have a sickening feeling that when I find out what it is, it will be bigger than my worst nightmare.
“We need to find out what the fuck is going on,” I grind out, my fingers clenched around the arms of the chair as violence rings in my ears.
“They will be telling me every detail of what they saw when they get back,” Damien assures me, stopping his pacing long enough to throw the rest of the brandy back. A frown is etched on his face and his eyes are still flashing.
Something is going on with him too, but I don’t know what it is. I watch him carefully as he places the glass back on the desk and refills it. I know him well enough to know when he has something on his mind, and the way he slung the brandy back like water only confirms my suspicions.
I know he’s been unhappy about Aria being around, even before she attacked Alison. The way she kept coming by unannounced really bothered him and, truth be told, it didn’t sit well with me either.
She’s been more demanding than usual, and it started before Scarlett came on the scene and has only gotten worse since. I know she wants me to share Scarlett, my beautiful obsession, with her, but it’s not going to happen. I don’t ever remember feeling this way, but I have no intention of sharing my little witch with anyone. Fuck. I’ve always been willing to share, even Aria, who has been the only long-term lover I’ve ever had. Scarlett’s just different. My demon is ecstatic that my feelings align so closely with his. Me, not so much. I keep fighting against myself and my demon, but at some point, I’m going to lose the battle. I am so fucked.
I also know Damien is aware I’ve been keeping some things from him. I haven’t felt ready to tell him everything, so I’ve been keeping the fact that Aria has become completely unglued close to my chest. For months now, I’ve had the feeling that she was up to no good and those suspicions have been confirmed.
I continue to watch him pace around the room, waiting for him to speak up and tell me what’s wrong. I’m not the type to ask and he knows that if he has something to get off his chest, he needs to come out with it. He’s never gotten along with Aria, but I don’t think that’s all that is bothering him. The hatred he’s had for her has been carved in stone since the day they met, but he’s always put up with her being around. I know something has crawled up his ass and I want to know what it is.
His phone rings again and it breaks me from my musing. He stops pacing and answers. I hear Ben’s voice screaming through the line, panic rising with every word he utters. I can’t make out his words, so I gesture for Damien to put him on speaker phone.
“… arrived at the pickup point and we were ambushed. Tony and Duncan are hurt,” Ben shouts. “We need backup NOW!”
I grab my own phone and call the one person I know I can trust to handle the current situation while Damien gets more information from Ben. Chamuel is going to be pissed that I’m calling him, but tough shit. He came to me a few months ago and asked for, no demanded, leave. I’m not so much of a bastard to refuse such a request, especially since I know he would have left whether I’d granted him permission or not. Chamuel is much too valuable to me to not have him on my side, so I generally let him come and go as he pleases. I haven’t even attempted to get ahold of him in the six months he’s been gone, but things have changed. I need him to come back, and I need it now.
Who else can I trust, if not my own flesh and blood?
The attention my little witch wants from me is just going to have to wait. I make a mental note to have a word with Alex. He was given strict instructions that she wasn’t to be left alone for even a moment. If he was unable to fulfill those orders, he should have informed me or Damien. Somehow, she managed to walk out of her room and wander the whole damn place, without a care in the world. As though it were her home rather than mine. Alex is lucky Aria left before Scarlett went on her little walkabout. If my witch had gotten hurt, Alex would have taken the full brunt of my rage. Once I find out what the fuck is going on with my men, I intend to have a little talk with Alex and have him tell me what the hell he was thinking not accompanying her the second she stepped over the threshold of her room.
SCARLETT
I come awake with a jolt. Something must have roused me from my sleep, but I don’t know what it could have been. I’m alone in my room and I don’t feel afraid. I glance out the window and see the moon, high and bright in the dark sky. I remember coming back to my room after being unable to locate Lucien, planning to try again in the morning. Now I’m awake and something is screaming at me to get up and get my ass downstairs immediately. I climb out of bed and dress, knowing what my sisters would say if they were here. They would tell me to ignore the urge to go, to stay in my room. I wouldn’t have listened to them.
I follow my intuition through the hallways, and step outside. I have no idea how exactly I got here; I merely walked the way my instincts told me to go. Looking around, I’m surrounded by carnage and mayhem. Men are all around me, some I recognize, some I don’t, but most of them bloodied and broken.
Several of the men are lying on the ground, being tended to. I hear orders ring out left and right, and scan the vast area, looking for Lucien. Finally, I spot him to my left, having a heated discussion with some of his men. I thought I’d seen him angry before, but this is something else. Now isn’t the time to approach him and ask what’s going on, so I turn my eyes to the scene before me.
I look around at the injured, and spotting a trolley filled with bags of medical supplies, I grab one and go over to the man lying closest to me. I can see as I approach him that he’s wary of letting me near him, his brown eyes flashing a warning, but I ignore his reaction and examine him anyway. I spot two deep gashes, one on his left forearm and the other on his right thigh, blood pouring from both. The one on his thigh is of higher concern, so I focus on that one first. The bone is showing through the gaping flesh, and I fight against the bile rising in my throat.
He growls, low in his throat, and I place my hand on his arm, holding up the bag of medical supplies. “Please, I only want to help you,” I assure him. “Just let me clean and stitch your wounds.” It feels like several minutes, but is likely only a few seconds, before he nods his head for me to continue. I give a sigh of relief and pull on a pair of disposable gloves.
Using a pair of scissors from the bag, I cut his pants up to his thigh, revealing the full severity of the injury. It’s worse than I’d thought. I don’t know if I can help heal him without giving myself away. My thoughts race as I begin cleaning the wound. Would I be able to live with myself if I didn’t use my powers to help him? Dozens of Lucien’s men may die without my help. Healing this one will sap my energy and might give me away, but I don’t think I can handle watching him die when I have the ability to save him.
Making up my mind, I pour antiseptic into the wound and a flash of pain flickers briefly across his dark face. I see the flare in his eyes and a slight lengthening of his teeth and know he’s a vampire. A shiver runs down my spine. Vampires are some of the deadliest creatures alive. I know to avoid them at all costs, but I push away my fear and force myself to pretend he’s human.
I need to stop the blood loss as quickly as I can. If he loses too much, he’ll need more, and I have no desire to be his next meal. Vampires, like most other Naturals, typically heal on their own, without intervention. Looking down at the wound again, I realize that his healing process has been slowed by something, perhaps the severity of his injuries. I’m going to have to work quickly. I grab a needle and thread with one hand and lay my fingertips of the other at the edge of the open wound. I shortly pray in my head that nobody will hear me chanting above the chaos surrounding us and begin.
I call forth my omega, immediately aware of her essence coming through. She knows she can’t use the full strength of her healing powers, so I don’t have to remind her. Heat begins radiating from my head, down through my shoulders, to the tips of my fingers. We are two entities in one body and, together, we start whispering the healing spell, making sure our voice never rises above a whisper. We both know what we are doing is dangerous, possibly reckless. I am putting my family and friends in danger, but I couldn’t just sit by and allow these people to suffer on my watch. My omega is careful not to fully close the wound, merely healing it just enough so the vampire’s natural healing will kick in.
I watch as his injuries start knitting together from the inside out. I can’t go any further. If I do, I won’t have the energy to help any of the others. Besides, I’ve done as much as I can without bringing attention to myself. As I come out of the healing process, I notice the vampire looking at me and that the expression on his face has changed. He no longer looks suspicious, in fact, there seems to be a certain recognition in his eyes, as though he understands what I just did.
His words confirm my suspicion. “Your secret is safe with me, girl,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, as he makes eye contact with me. “Not all of us means your kind harm,” he assures, laying his big hand over my smaller one. “I’m Jaden. I thank you sincerely for your help,” Jaden lowers his head in a sign of respect before continuing. “If you ever need anything, ask Alex to bring you to me. I owe you a life debt. Now please, go help the others as much as you’re able.”
“You need blood, and soon,” I tell him, looking down at the hand he placed over my own. I don’t know what else to say; I’m in shock. How does this man, this vampire, know about us? What exactly does he know? Shit, how many know we’re here, existing among them? Question after question races through my mind. I don’t know if this is good or bad. How will my sisters react when I tell them? I know I won’t be able to bluff my way out, not with a vampire, and I can’t allow myself to panic.
“I will be fine, as will you be. Accept your fate, embrace it.” I feel his fingers tighten around mine as he speaks, and then he lets go, letting his hand fall to the ground. “Hard times are coming for us all. Now go. Your work here is done, and the others need you.” He nods to the injured men around him and shoos me away with a flick of his hand. Part of me wants to stay, even knowing I’m needed elsewhere. I want answers to the questions bombarding my brain. Pushing away the impulse to stay and question him, I stand up and go to attend to the rest of the injured.
