Bound by Blood

ONE

A storm was coming. Evie could feel it.

The Lamia mansion was quiet. Nightrealm and their companions strolled underneath the walled-in corridors surrounding the vast square courtyard wearing lush silk gowns and suits, staying within the safety of the concrete ceilings to avoid the unrelenting sun.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It all appeared perfectly normal.

Except Evie was aware looks were deceiving. Only she knew that a storm was on the horizon. And whatever was coming was going to be bad.

She was used to the familiar prickling running up her arms. But not the light burn. Her skin now feeling as if she had been out in the sun too long.

It made her tense up and nearly break the half-finished flower crown she’d been working on for Hatchet.

Her stomach tightened into knots as she glanced down at the flower crown, finding one of the white flowers torn.

Please...not again.

It was too soon. She’d barely recovered from the last attack that happened to her just two weeks ago. Swallowing the fear crawling up her throat Evie glanced around her in apprehension. Searching as if the answer would show itself. Knowing it never did.

Yet it wasn’t the what that kept her hazel eyes scanning the courtyard. It was the who. Who would be responsible this time? Who would hurt her next?

Evie searched for any signs of silver-golden hair or dark blonde. The only people willing to face the wrath of her dark prince were his two younger brothers and his father’s attendant.

August. September. Lord Jain.

Every encounter with them ended up with her nearly dying or gravely injured. Her left cheek throbbed at the reminder of the last time she’d stepped out of place, Lord Jain’s indifferent golden eyes flashing in her mind. She covered it with her hand. Trembling.

What’s the point of having these feelings if they never help me in time? Evie rubbed her no longer bruised cheek and inhaled, hoping to release the fear now coursing through her veins.

If her gift- or curse- would have given her a hint as to what was coming that day she never would have talked back to Hatchet in the main hall where Lord Jain had seen. Or the time before that, when she’d found herself alone with September, Hatchet’s youngest brother, who’d decided to throw her over the third floor’s railing to see if she could fly.

One of these days the warnings would come too little too late. And she wouldn’t just have a bruised cheek or barely be caught before slamming into the ground.

Evie gripped her arms, the burning crawling over her skin in waves. She tried to breathe through the pain and growing panic but she couldn’t shake the trepidation slinking up her spine.

I wish Hatchet was here... the eldest prince of the Lamia clan would protect her. Keep her safe from those that meant her harm. Or at least it would make her feel like she had a better chance at staying that way.

The hushed voices coming from the pairs walking along the corridors caught her attention, and it didn’t take long to figure out they were talking about her. One pair in particular discussed her privilege and how she was undeserving of such a gift as to be allowed in the courtyard without supervision. Right after that they switched onto the topic Evie knew to be coming. The one all the humans whispered about when they thought she couldn’t hear them.

Of how Hatchet had chosen her. How he overlooked all of their beauty and grace for a clumsy, chubby girl.

Unworthy. Pathetic.

That was how they all looked at her.

When it had first been made official a year ago Evie had tried to defend herself and tell them she didn’t want to be a companion. She’d never asked for any of it.

It hadn’t mattered though. Because they didn’t care that she hadn’t wanted to be Hatchet’s companion.

They only cared that she was.

That was enough to hate her. Enough to make her their enemy.

Something small and solid hit her in the back of the head. Evie winced at the sudden sting before looking over her shoulder. What the heck?

Her eyes spotted in the short cut grass a smooth, white stone that hadn’t been there before. Those stones lined the walkways. Hatchet had once told her his father wanted to make it look like he’d lined them with diamonds so as to appear richer than the Rose clan, the Lamia’s greatest enemy. Apparently their walkways had been embedded in diamonds and gold they were that rich.

Evie liked the stones because they flickered in the sunlight and looked like coral shells beneath a calm ocean bed. Now that it was being used as a weapon to hurt her she wished Hatchet’s father had tried to embed them in the concrete and marble.

She flicked a pensive look around the courtyard, careful to avoid making eye contact with any Nightrealm, searching for someone who looked pleased with themselves.

None of the humans paid any attention to her, but she knew it had to have come from one of them. None of the Nightrealm would have dared--not because they respected her as a companion but because they were afraid of Hatchet.

If he’d been there with her she’d never have been hit with the rock. Never would have gotten such open dirty looks or been the topic of conversation.

Which wasn’t fair when she thought about it. She should have been able to stand up for herself without needing his protection everywhere she went. If Evie was even as remotely untouchable as Hatchet was then she would have stood up, bunched her fists by her sides and yelled at all of them- “It’s not my fault Hatchet chose me and I get special privileges. It’s not my fault he liked me better than you-” just like she was now imagining in her head.

But she wasn’t untouchable. And she wasn’t stupid. Despite what both humans and Nightrealm thought about her she now knew better than to speak up in the presence of her superiors. A rule she wouldn’t soon forget after Jain’s correction when she’d made the mistake of breaking one of the cardinal rules of a companion:

Never be heard, only seen.

It had probably been whoever threw the rock’s intent -to get her to break the rules again and need to be corrected. Yet Evie feared that correction more than she did their harassment. More than she feared being denied meals and forced to do extra chores.

Nothing- no amount of torment or taunts- would make her do something where she’d feel Lord Jain’s long fingers cruelly scraping against her skin again. The nightmares were enough of a reminder. Forever imprinted in her memories.

Her stomach clenched and she had to grab it, the pain doubling. Caused by either the warning of the storm getting closer or the terrible moment she discovered what humans meant to Nightrealm.

How dispensable they were.

Hatchet was the only one who didn’t follow the beliefs of his clan. He was the only one who never struck her or made her feel ashamed for being human.

Before she could feel the ease of having one person on her side the strong clang of a bell echoed in the main hall of the mansion, and all of her froze.

Ding...ding.

Evie’s eyes widened. Oh no.

The image of Hatchet standing up for her in front of Lord Jain disintegrated into one of him scowling and his charcoal gaze narrowing. His reprimand ringing as she stood from the grass and shook off the flowers that rested on her purple dress.

Don’t be late, he’d warned her earlier that morning.

Or she’d discover exactly why everyone feared him.

TWO

Evie’s flats barely held on as she hopped up the eight steps of the walled-in garden and into the white marble hall.

Hatchet had never hurt her. And she doubted he ever would the way other Nightrealm did to their human companions. But that didn’t mean she was safe.

He merely had come up with other ways of punishing her.

Companions dressed in silver and lavender silk gowns and suits stepped out of her way like she was diseased, Evie ignoring the pang of irritation at their reactions. Of their looks promising retribution when she was back in the designated areas for humans.

She hopped up the grand staircase draped in a rug runner the color of spilled blood and headed to the third floor, her breaths coming out in sharp huffs. By the time she reached the landing she had to brace her hands on her knees to get her breathing under control.

I’m almost there. All she had to do was get down the long hall. Where Hatchet’s room was. He’d yell at her for being out of breath and looking anything but the composed figure of a companion, but she’d take that over him being angry at her lateness.

Hatchet’s promise of correction hung over her like a ghost and she wasn’t sure what caused her stomach to hurt more: her impending doom or Hatchet’s wrath.

Sweat slipped down her back as she straightened, shaking off her trepidation. I’m almost there. I just have to run the rest of the way... A brush of cool air touched her face and she was grateful for it, not sensing the danger until she glanced up, finding the reason.

And her blood froze in her veins.

The familiar silver-gold hair and cold laughter locked up Evie’s legs and arms. She stared into the ethereal face of Lord Jain, his beauty not marred even by the cruelty in his golden eyes.

Evie was too terrified to move that she forgot her manners.

Forgot to not look him in the eye.

Lord Jain’s bowed lips quirked into an amused smile as he clasped his hands behind his back, the pressed navy blue suit highlighting his lean physique. “My, my...what’s this? You’re late again, girl?”

His musical voice crashed over Evie like a bucket of ice, and she finally lowered her head, trembling as she waited for the repercussion of looking at him. Her heart slammed in her chest when he added with a sigh, “the young prince is going to be very displeased with you, indeed.”

Evie’s hands shook by her sides. Is he going to hit me again?

The amusement in his voice didn’t give her any indication what his plan was. And the loud ringing in her head wasn’t there so she couldn’t decipher if this was what her body had been trying to warn her about.

He chuckled, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw his hands unclasp, one lifting in front of him. Ready.

Evie flinched in dreaded anticipation for the correction sure to be coming as the memory of the slap flashed in her mind.

She felt the sting of it. The roaring in her ears from the force. The breath knocked from her lungs while she fell sideways to the marble floor.

Tensing, she waited for it now. Except the hit never came. Instead, Jain rested his long fingers on his smooth high cheekbone and clicked his tongue. “And it seems you’ve forgotten the proper etiquette when in the presence of your superior...” he tilted his head and Evie caught his bound silver-gold hair slipping over his bony shoulder. “I wonder what the young prince shall say about such poor manners.”

The shock of not getting hit wore off as Evie remembered her etiquette training, quickly clasping her hands in front of her and lowering her head until the back of her neck was exposed, the proper way for Companions to be while in the presence of their superiors.

A sign of submission. Of weakness.

Hatchet never made her stand like this. He never let her look down either. Never treated her like she was lesser than him just because she’d been born as a human.

It was humiliating. And the anger she felt pushed blood into her cheeks as Lord Jain hummed again. “Much better.”

He walked by her with lazy steps and she kept her gaze locked on his shiny black loafers, praying he wouldn’t change his mind about correcting her. Her hope withered away as he stopped next to her and asked in a patronizing tone, “Isn’t it so much better to know your place? All it took was a little training and you are finally behaving like the Companion of nobility should.”

The memory of his training made Evie slam her eyes shut. Lord Jain heaved a sigh. “It’s such a shame your correction came too late. I hear young master’s in quite a mood this afternoon.” Evie inhaled quickly when Jain was suddenly next to her ear, chuckling. “It wouldn’t surprise me if this is the last time I ever have to speak to you.”

Her hands started to shake from the picture Lord Jain drew in her mind’s eye. She squeezed them tighter, the clench in her stomach making her nauseous.

You’re wrong. Hatchet would never hurt me. Whatever was coming it couldn’t be from what Jain left unsaid. She was sure of it.

Hatchet wasn’t like the others. He was different. Kind.

She kept her desire to defend Hatchet locked on her tongue. Not willing to give him any reason to strike her again. The bruise on her cheek had finally healed after two weeks. She didn’t want another one to take its place.

Jain eventually straightened, and she opened her eyes, seeing her reflection within the polished leather. And prayed he didn’t see the same thing as she did.

The hate brimming underneath the fear.

To her relief he decided to continue on his path, brushing past her and reaching the stairs with the fluid grace of a noble. His voice interrupted the quiet that fell over the hall, and Evie realized he intended to hit her after all, his words knocking the air from her lungs.

“Better hurry, girl. . . your master is waiting.”

THREE

Your master is waiting.

Lord Jain’s warning slammed into Evie’s head, over and over, like a bullet ricocheting. She pressed her short nail beds into her palm and squeezed. Lord Jain’s words had stunned her more than another slap.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop from listening to every step that he took down the stairs, the soft press of his shoes into the luxurious rug unhurried and precise. Carefully taken just like he carefully constructed his remark, hitting where it hurt her the most.

Evie gritted her teeth and blinked away the tears burning her eyes.

I don’t have a master. I am not property.

She was a companion. She had rights and privileges and protections. So long as she didn’t break the rules in the contract that wouldn’t change.

But what Lord Jain hinted at not only stripped her of those rights guaranteed as a companion but degraded her to the worst position a human could be at the Lamia mansion:

a feeder.

Evie had never seen one in real life but she’d overheard from other companions what their fates had become. She’d learned a lot about Nightrealm while doing her chores, the other companions not realizing she could hear their whispers and hushed conversation whenever she was with them.

From what Evie gathered a feeder was a human who broke their contract and was stripped of all of their protection and rights. Their riches promised for their service were taken away from them. Dragged to some undisclosed place in the mansion imprisoned until their contracts were up. And if that wasn’t bad enough then being at the mercy of not just one but all of Nightrealm was the cherry on top.

The soft burn running up her arms hitched in intensity. Evie took in a deep breath and slowly released her clenched hands, letting them fall back to her sides.

It doesn’t matter what he says.... I am not a feeder.

She didn’t know why what he said bothered her so much. After all, she was used to the scorn of the others, some who have said much worse to her face and behind her back. But there was something about Lord Jain’s cold smiles and his eyes filled with disdain when he looked at her that hit deeper and felt personal.

Like he was set out to always knock her down. To always remind her of her place.

It wasn’t the same way that September or August did it. All humans to them were trash and should be treated that way.

And it made her believe his hate for her was different.

Direct.

She was sure of it. As sure as Hatchet wouldn’t hurt her like Jain had hinted at.

Remembering her dark prince helped to unlock her legs and recall she had someplace to be. She shakily walked down the hall until she reached the familiar black rose etched in a wooden door. The insignia of the Lamia clan.

The prickly feeling in her arms and legs didn’t subside and the words of Jain taunted her.

Young master is in quite a mood today.

It wouldn’t surprise me if this is the last time I have to speak to you.

Evie’s heart thrummed against the snug bodice of her cotton dress. She swallowed. Don’t let him win.

She wished she could tell Hatchet about the feeling something bad was going to happen. About her run in with Lord Jain.

But what she really wished was that she didn’t have to keep so many secrets from him.

Evie’s hand raised to knock yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. If Hatchet saw her the way she was now he’d ask questions. Questions she didn’t have the courage to answer.

Would he even believe me if I told him?

Would he care?

Both questions hurt her and filled her with unease. She didn’t have long to think on them as

his door pulled open and a hand grabbed her wrist. She let out a tiny squeak while being pulled into a large room sheathed in shadows and the scent of musty old books.

Before she could suck in another breath, the door closed and she was pressed back into the wood, looking up into none other than Hatchet’s unhappy face. “You’re late.”

Evie placed the hand not still trapped in his grip over her thrumming heartbeat and averted her eyes from his hardened look. “It’s only by a couple of minutes.”

She caught him narrowing his charcoal gaze. For only being two years older than her he still exuded the same trickle of intimidation as the other Nightrealm, and she couldn’t stop the slight flinch when his hand landed next to her head, boxing her in.

His tone was filled with reproach as he countered, “Late is late, Evie.”

The prickling worsened. Maybe Jain wasn’t just trying to scare me... he really is in a bad mood. But bad enough to harm her?

Evie swallowed down her desire to argue back and attempted to look contrite. “It won’t happen again?” She raised her hazel eyes up to him, feeling the shock of his beauty nearly make her take in a small breath. Today Hatchet had left his midnight black hair unkempt, and the strands curling by his temples highlighted the glint of purple undertones when it hit the slivers of sunlight sneaking past the heavy black curtains covering the window. A wayward strand swept against his smooth, pale forehead and brushed his slender nose as he tilted his head down at her. She wanted to place it behind his ear yet refrained, not willing to give him any more reasons to be upset with her.

She was glad she didn’t when he rose a thin, black brow and his bowed mouth twitched, mocking. “Interesting...I’m almost positive you’ve already said that before. And yet here you are, still breaking the rules even after the talk we had this morning.”

Evie exhaled sharply and began to lower her head when she felt his fingers tug on one of her frizzy loose cinnamon curls, making her look at him. His eyes gleamed as she watched in growing apprehension, his raspy drawl making the sense of danger just around the corner add to the crawling over her skin. “What are we going to do about that, hm?”

He slowly inched his head forward and she had nowhere to go, feeling like the mice who made the mistake of coming to the Lamia estate when there was a shortage of companions. “H-how about nothing?” she suggested a bit breathless, her cheeks burning as her mind cruelly reminded her about what happened the last time he’d been in a really bad mood.

It was nowhere near as bad as Lord Jain’s correction but it was unbearable in a different way. Her heart thumped. Please...not that. Not again. She clamped her eyes shut when she found herself in the same position as the other time, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt the brush of his cool breath as he murmured, “you look scared, Evie... I wonder why that is.”

Lord Jain’s words came back to her, but they were quickly brushed off as her mind was too busy replaying Hatchet’s more calculated ways of showing his displeasure with her.

Evie’s heartbeat stuttered as she felt him close in. Her mouth opened but no sound came out.

Then he pulled back- and she opened her eyes to see what he was planning next, her exhale a little too loud.

Her reaction made him smirk. “Are you scared I’m going to punish you?”

Her stomach somersaulted at his uncanny ability to always read her thoughts. “Y-yes.”

He leaned his head close to hers again, drawing out the anticipation. “hmmm... Perhaps I should. It might teach you to be on time from now on.” He looked contemplative as Evie’s heart raced, her gaze begging him to not go through with whatever plan was forming behind his shrewd look.

The same look he’d worn when he’d leaned over her on the couch, his smile smug as he’d said- “let’s see how long we can keep your cheeks that red today-“ her head shaking no, pleading, knowing it was futile.

Hatchet might not be like the other Nightrealm in their cruelty...but it didn’t mean he was merciful.

He smiled and revealed his white teeth, the upper fangs glinting. Then he lifted the wrist still captive in his hand and brought it to his lips. She was still waiting for him to repeat the other punishment when he asked, “where should I do it? Here?” he brushed his mouth at the place where her hand and wrist connected.

Huh? Evie was stunned by the sudden change she didn’t catch onto his meaning. Then his lips brushed the place where Lissa, Evie’s human caretaker for the week, had hit her with a wooden spoon after she’d accidentally dropped the basket of towels on the floor.

Evie winced when his mouth brushed the raw skin, regretting it immediately. Especially when he looked at her through his thick, black lashes, his mouth crooking up in a devious smile.

“Here it is then.”

Evie saw him open his mouth before she shut her eyes and waited for the sharp sting that would come. Even if it was better than the punishment she’d expected, she couldn’t stop herself from tensing at the scrape of his teeth. Waiting for the familiar pinch to come.

Hatchet once again surprised her, his husky laugh falling over her. “Silly girl...you make it too easy.”

What? Shedidn’t have a chance to adjust to the abrupt mood change as she peeked one eye open to see him right before hetugged her forward, grinning at her look of trepidation. She barely inhaled when she suddenly found herself sitting on his black velvet couch, Hatchet perched right next to her. Evie attempted to jump back up, but he still held her wrist captive, keeping her trapped next to him.

He met her surprised look with a mischievous smirk. “Oh, if only I could get a picture of your expression right now.”

She blinked, backing away when he inched a little too close. “Wha- I don’t understand...”

All traces of him being unhappy were gone. His smile lifted his high cheekbones and made him look more like a regular kid than the scary eldest prince.

If it wasn’t for the navy blue slacks and dark grey button up-and the fangs still showing- she could pretend they were the same. That he wasn’t above her. That he wasn't human. 

Which she was reminded of as he tugged her close with absolute ease. “You look like you thought I was really going to punish you,” he explained, amusement lilting his voice.

Evie laughed uneasily, fooled by his display, her heart hammering in her chest. His charcoal gaze narrowed slightly and she knew he’d heard it, too. He leaned forward and peered closer at her. “Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” Although his tone was casual his expression sharpened.

Evie swallowed. And then lied. “It is.”

He hummed, and Evie knew he’d seen through it, wincing when he continued in the same tone, “You know, it was beating this hard when you were walking to my room, too.”

Her heart thudded. Crap.

He went on, the shrewd look darkening his amused gaze. “Did something happen? Something that also caused you to be late?”

Evie shook her head, but her pulse betrayed her. She couldn’t tell him about Lord Jain. If Hatchet hated his father he hated Lord Jain even more. She averted her gaze and denied his accusation. “Nope, nothing happened.”

“If nothing happened why are you looking away?”

“Um...”

“And why do you look nervous?”

Evie had no answers for him. She was still trying to think of some lame excuse that might explain both of his accusations when she heard him sigh. “Fine..be stubborn.”

Before she could wonder at his warning look he brought her still trapped hand to his mouth and bit down on one of her fingers. Hard.

“Ow!” Evie stared at him with a look mixed with shock and betrayal.

Hatchet watched her indifferently as he licked the droplets of blood blooming on her fingertip and gripped tighter when she attempted to rip her hand away. “I’ll ask again...why did you look so scared when you got here?”

“I...I already told you--I thought you’d be mad!”

He arched his brow. “5...4...3...2...1-”

“Wait...ah!” Evie cried, his teeth already sinking into the next one.

He stopped. “Go on.”

Evie gave him a beseeching look. She had known Hatchet well enough that when he said he’d do something, he always followed through. Even now he watched her closely, his mouth hovering over her finger, waiting.

I have to tell him something...or he’ll run out of fingers and move on to somewhere else. “I heard a...a rumor that you’re in a bad mood,” began Evie with a quickening heartbeat- praying he took it as her being afraid and not lying.

She didn’t break eye contact in case he’d think the latter. Lying was one of Hatchet’s greatest pet peeves next to tardiness. One that made him scary. One she had to do all the time at the risk of her own life thanks to his brothers and Lord Jain.

For a moment she panicked when he said nothing and prepared to come clean- about everything- when his brows lifted, his head moving away from her hand. “So what? I’m always in a bad mood.”

Not with me. Only with everyone else.

She let out a pent up breath. “That’s not true.”

“Hmmm...” he gave her a suspicious look but he lowered her hand away from danger.She thought she was in the clear until he remarked drily, “and what exactly did you believe I would do to you in this bad mood?”

Evie’s face heated under his scrutiny. The memory of his last punishment resurfaced. Inwardly, she shook her head to clear the thought away. No way was she going to tell him that. Then he’d do it again.

His eyes searched hers and she felt the window closing in before her response would seem fabricated. Think, Evie, think! What would he believe I am scared about-aside from the truth?

Hatchet ruined her chance to come up with something by clicking his tongue and muttering, “nevermind...I think I can already guess by the look on your face.”

Evie paled. “Y-you can?”

He gave her a look that said- I’m not stupid- before continuing in a drawl. “You thought I was going to kill you,” he said with such finality she could merely blink at him, her mouth gaping open.

His response was much better than the ones she had been trying to come up with on the spot. Dark, but good.

Evie closed her mouth and saw his gaze narrow before she gave a subdued nod, deciding to go along with it. “I’m sorry, Hatchet.”

For a moment he didn’t move. She prayed his silence didn’t mean he’d seen through her terrible acting and was going to make her tell him the real reason.

And when he growled and bit her next finger, she nearly came clean about everything she’d kept from him- the attacks from his brothers, Jain’s degrading comment, being starved, having the sense something bad was coming. Then she realized his teeth didn’t prick past her skin and he was smirking. And she stuffed all of her secrets back into the guarded places of her mind.

Before she could feel relief Hatchet released his hold and pressed her head down so it rested against his shoulder. She struggled against the hand on her head but he was too strong for her to move. “H-Hatchet...w-what are you doing?”

He busied himself by picking up the book he’d left on the armrest. Evie pushed at him but to no avail. She might have a larger frame than Hatchet’s lean body but that meant nothing when the Nightrealm were involved. Hatchet-and all Nightrealm- were much stronger than humans.

A few seconds of her futile struggling she finally gave up. He looked down, his strands of hair tickling her cheek, answering her. “Apparently our lesson on trust didn’t stick the last time, so we’re going to have a repeat--just this once.”

Evie’s face burned at the memory of her first day as his companion, shuddering. She’d been so scared after the first time he’d bitten her, not having any idea that was the reason he’d made her sign a contract with him. Hatchet had picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a doll and had put her on his lap, her head pressed against his collar bone, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Her heart gave a violent thump remembering the closeness. “I...I do trust you!”

She felt him give a breathless laugh. “Perhaps we also need one on lying after this.” Evie’s heart jumped wildly at the lingering threat, making him add, “since I’m in such a bad mood and all, seems like the perfect time.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how childish he sounded. Now he’s just being a brat. “But I’m not lying-”at least not about this. A fact that filled her with guilt.

He removed the hand on top of her head and used his other one to lift her chin up with a finger, frowning. “Really? Because your blood says otherwise.” Heat rushed into her cheeks as the smirk he wore said got you. “You forgot about that one, didn’t you?”

She had. Evie had completely forgotten he could tell based on the taste of her blood when she was upset or happy. Something about the chemicals released from her brain he’d once said.

“Is that why you bit my fingers?” she asked, sullen. He brightened and she wanted to move away from him. “You could have just made me tell you the truth,” she grumbled, turning her head so she didn’t have to see his triumphant look anymore.

“You also could have told me the truth from the beginning,” he countered, picking up his book. Evie puffed up her cheeks at him winning, yet again. Indignant he tricked her, she straightened, scooting away and crossing her arms.

“And you could have given me a chance to tell you...stop that!” Hatchet challenged her by poking her in the ribs. She uncrossed her arms and tried to stop him, so he used his other hand.

“Look at this,” he said, his fingers now moving over her stomach making her giggle. “So defiant even after you thought you were a dead girl walking. Who said you could laugh, huh?” he asked, her peals of laughter becoming louder. “So disobedient as always.”

“H-hatchet....stop!”

“I don’t want to.”

She grabbed his hand but she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. “Please...stop,” she giggled breathlessly.

He hummed. “Do you think you’re still in danger?”

“M-maybe!”

He asked more pointedly. “Do you still think I’m going to kill you?” Evie answered with a violent shake of her head, unable to get out a word. Out of the corner of her eye she thought his expression showed worry before she shook her head, finding it as smug as before.

That’s odd...Hatchet doesn’t get worried. He had no need to. Before she could recuperate from being tickled and wonder if she really saw what she thought she did he grabbed her around the waist tightly, pressing her into him. She was still giggling and breathless when he placed a kiss on the top of her head, murmuring. “That’s better.”

Evie couldn’t stop the flip in her stomach. Was he trying to cheer me up? He returned to his book and she stole a look up at him, finding a tug of a smile playing at his thin lips. For a second she held her breath as she took in his playful expression. Pleased he was concerned for her he’d do all of that to make her feel better.

Even if it wasn’t necessary since she didn’t think he would kill her.

Still unsure if she was imagining things or if he really was in a good mood she tested the waters by cautiously raising the hand that he hadn’t bitten to place a strand of his hair behind his left ear.

Before she could remove her hand he quickly grabbed hold of it. And pressed his cool mouth to the pulse in her wrist.

Their eyes connected. She flushed as she admitted quietly, “you always know how to make me feel better.”

Warmth radiated from his gaze and she felt herself flush from it. “I’m glad,” he said, and Evie nearly relaxed until he added, “but I didn’t cheer you up just for that reason...”

Evie’s smile withered on her small mouth. “What?” She followed his charcoal gaze now swirled with red to the subtle thump of her pulse close to his fingers. Reality crashed down on her like icy hail. “Oh...” Then, to keep him from wondering at her reaction she pasted on a smile, finishing with, “right.” Of course he had a reason for it. After all, I’m only here for a purpose.

Stuffing down the prick at her disappointment she looked away as he commanded, “breathe in,” digging her nails into the palm of her right hand when his teeth bit into her skin, breathing out when she felt him take her blood. The reason she was made his companion in the first place.

To be his food.

Something she was stupid to ever forget.

FOUR

Evie shut Hatchet’s door and leaned against it. Her wrist stung, but she barely noticed. Not when she was too busy trying to get it together. Thankfully, Hatchet decided to take a nap after he was done eating so she didn’t have to worry about him hearing her racing heartbeat. Or hear her ragged breaths from wanting to cry from her stupidity.

She released the solid gold handle and trudged down the hall back towards the stairs.

Why did I think he was worried about me? Of course he just cared about my blood tasting bad.

She grabbed the sides of her head and inwardly groaned at thinking about how happy she’d been.

Feeling Humiliated and defeated. Feeling Stupid. So very stupid.

She’d allowed herself to daydream her emotional state had mattered to Hatchet other than his need. And then he’d burst her little happy bubble wide open, crashing her back to reality.

Evie was so glad the hall was void of both Nightrealm and their Companions. The sense of danger coming was still taunting her, but she was now more focused on the burning behind her eyelids. She could only imagine the sight she must have seen right then: cinnamon brown curls disheveled from being pressed close to Hatchet and her heart beating a thousand miles per minute. Her face stamped with a look of utter defeat.

Then she remembered no one cared about her existence despite Hatchet, anyway. And he only cared because of the contract that was between the two of them.

The one she’d had no choice in signing.

Thinking about that terrifying day over a year ago when she’d been ushered into the hall by the human woman assigned to keep watch over her that week helped to edge the tightness in her chest.

She’d only been nine-years-old then. Standing in front of all the other people at least ten years older than her. Everyone around her had bristled with hushed excitement that they would be the one to care for the young prince, an honor meaning unimaginable wealth and prestige after serving as his Companion for however long the contract stated.

Evie hadn’t understood any of it then, too scared and young to know what they were talking about. She’d tried to ask the blonde woman with bouncy curls next to her what was going on but had been ignored.

While she’d stood there frozen, her legs trembling, everyone else was doing their best to roll up their sleeves and rip down the collars of their shirts or dresses to expose their bruised and blotchy skin. Evie had been horrified by the sight- wanting to cry out and ask them what they were all doing and why. She’d still been new to the mansion-only there four days at the time- but nothing had rang a bell about what was expected of her.

She’d tried to search her memory for any information before arriving at the Lamia mansion to answer her questions. . . but it was all a blur. She’d overheard Lord Jain telling Hatchet after he’d saved her from his brother’s attack she’d come from the eradicated Rose clan- the Lamia’s greatest enemy- with all the spoils. . . but she’d had no idea what any of that had meant.

And the longer she’d attempted to figure it out the less shape her memories had taken. Like staring out at the ocean on a foggy day and seeing nothing but hazy silhouettes of the oil rigs miles and miles out.

Evie hadn’t known what to do or expect. She hadn’t gasped or made sounds of awe like the others when the grand copper doors opened and Jain announced that everyone needed to be silent, coming slowly down the hall with his hands behind his back, his neck length silver-gold hair gleaming from the chandeliers way above their heads. She’d been listening to all the hushed murmurs of the humans when the sound of slow footsteps clicked on the white, speckled marble floor--and everyone fell quiet.

Out of the corner of her eye, she’d found everyone bowing their heads and clasping their hands in front of their stomachs. Evie had done the opposite. She’d looked up straight into the gaze of Hatchet, the dark-haired boy who’d saved her. She’d been so relieved, remembering the kindness in his gaze and his gentle hands lifting her off the ground only two days earlier. But as he’d looked at her then Evie hadn’t found any kindness or warmth at all. Only cold charcoal eyes looking down on her. Stony and impassive. A black rose held out for her to take.

Before she’d been able to react, he’d forced the stem into her hand and commanded sharply, “I’ve chosen this girl. From now on she is my Companion. No one is allowed to touch her but me.” Evie had sucked in a painful breath at this declaration, her thoughts drowning in the fear something terrible was going to happen.

He’d watched her indifferently as tears had slipped free from her hazel eyes and down her round cheeks, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the hall lined with the murderous expressions from those who hadn’t been chosen by him.

All of it had happened so fast: being brought to a small study. Forced to sit down in a black chair in front of a piece of paper resting on a wooden desk. Ordered to pick up the pen and sign her name at the bottom of it. All the while she’d cried through it all.

When the contents of the contract had been explained he’d said nothing. He’d merely stood next to her with his arms crossed, his eyes on the Nightrealm servant reading the clauses. It hadn’t been until the paper had been signed by her and handed over to him where he’d placed it in a dark wooden box and then left the two alone in the room that he finally broke the silence. “You’re safe now...so please stop crying.”

Evie hadn’t understood what he meant. Safe? Safe from what?

She’d wanted to ask him but her voice had been choked by sobs, her attention on him taking a long silver needle and pricking his finger and hers, placing the same ones with droplets of blood in each other’s mouths, saying the contract was now completed.

They were now bound by blood.

A year later and Evie still had no idea what anything he’d said that day meant. And they never discussed it.

All she’d been able to figure out was if either of them broke the agreements in the contract she’d be made into a feeder. And the bound by blood part was that both had each other’s blood now in their systems, connecting them. What Evie had yet to figure out were the two questions that had constantly resurfaced in her mind:

Why did Hatchet choose her. . . and what had he saved her from?

Maybe I’m not the only one with secrets-something that surprisingly bothered her. She got to the staircase when the prickling along her arms reminded her she had more to worry about than her curiosity and her disappointment. The warning signs were getting stronger, a signal whatever was coming might be just around the corner.

That’s right. I don’t have time to worry about Hatchet and his reasons for picking me right now.

She took the last step and headed down the long hall, her flats tapping softly on the lush carpet.

Her stomach knotted while heading to her bedroom- the last door down the hall to the left- as she shook her head to clear her thoughts.

She needed to be careful.After all the gifts Nightrealm possessed it wouldn’t surprise her if one of them had the ability to read minds. The last thing she needed was them to think she was questioning Hatchet’s motives.

Hatchet had never mentioned to her of anyone at the mansion possessing the ability to read a person’s actual thoughts, but she did know they had other ways of figuring out the unspoken truth.

Such as seeing the auras of people’s emotions, like Hatchet could. Or having visions of the future the way August sometimes did.

If August did see something about her she doubted he would physically harm her for it.

September, however. . .was a very different story.

Evie pondered just how much they might already know when her attention was dragged away by a sudden sharp cry coming not too far down the hall.

Swallowing, she searched nervously around her and continued to walk, hearing quiet whimpers growing louder.

Her stomach tightened, warning her to do the opposite of what she was doing- heading towards the sound- knowing better than to involve herself in the business of others after she’d made the mistake trying to befriend September her first week at the mansion. She’d discovered his cruelty too late, and if it weren’t for Hatchet stepping in she might have had her wrist broken.

The bone in her wrist ached where September had pressed down while she hastened towards a squeal falling off in a sob. She knew Hatchet would scold her for doing this if he ever found out. Yet his reproach and punishment weren’t enough to stop her from going towards it.

From wanting to help the person in pain.

The whimpering grew louder, followed by a high pitched wine. “Please..I..I won’t do it again!”

Evie’s fast walk turned into a jog, falling to an abrupt stop when she found the source.

A young man with dark brown hair was on his knees, nearly hidden by the alcove halfway down the hall. His pressed silk pants were wrinkled, stained with droplets of blood that fell from a cut in his right cheek. His left hand was being pushed back by a much younger and smaller boy who leaned against the wall in complete ease.

The sight in front of her looked bizarre. Except Evie had been in the company with the young boy to realize the monumental mistake of underestimating him. Of letting his heart shaped face with large emerald eyes brushed by dark golden blond hair trick her into believing he wasn’t capable of ripping the man’s arm off if he so desired.

And by the amused smile he wore Evie had no doubt that might be the outcome. Because September loved to hurt his pets. Loved to be sadistic.

Evie’s heart slammed into her throat. The 10-year-old prince hadn’t noticed her, too busy tormenting the young man to pay her any mind. He pressed his brown boot on the man’s leg and leaned forward, his layered dark blonde hair draping over pale eyebrows and brushing long golden lashes as he tilted his head.

His musical voice rose over the young man’s whimpers, bored. “Remind me again what you won’t do. It seems I’ve already forgotten.”

Evie took a shaky step back, her eyes not leaving September, the man begging, “I’m sorry...p-please forgive me.” he fell into loud sobs. September responded to his begging by pushing the man’s hand back farther.

Evie watched in horror, silently urging the man to fight him and to stop him, knowing even if he tried it was no use. Humans couldn’t retaliate against Nightrealm. No matter how bad it got.

September smiled when the man let out a gargled cry. “Are all humans this dumb and deaf? How difficult is it for you to do as I tell you the first time?” The man’s square jaw trembled violently, staring up helplessly as September said slowly, sighing. “It seems I’ll just have to help spark your memory.”

The man shook his head no, sobbing. Evie took another step back.

She wanted to help him but couldn’t. She was powerless- useless- and her skin crawled from it.

Evie took another step back, her heart pounding and the ache in her stomach doubling, her eyes never leaving the merciless prince.

Hatchet. She needed to get Hatchet. He would stop his brother. He would save the man.

“No please- I beg of you...don’t!”

“Yes, beg human filth. Not that it will save you.”

The man wailed as Evie rushed backwards-

creaking the wood underneath the rug.

It wasn’t loud. . . yet it was loud enough for September to trail his cruel gaze over, his cold amusement flashing into gleaming excitement as he locked onto her.

“Well, look what we have here... my favorite little piggy has come to play with me.” he released the man’s hand and stepped over him, slowly striding to where she was now petrified under his menacing smile.

Evie stopped breathing. Oh no.

He took a step closer as she began to shake her head and then remembered her place. Bowing low, she said, trembling. “F-forgive me, lord September. I.. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Straightening herself she saw his lips crook up in a slow smile.

“Oh...you didn’t interrupt anything, little piggy. In fact, I was finding myself becoming quite bored. It’s a good thing you showed up now, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, placing his hands behind his back. Evie knew his boredom boded no good for her. For anyone. The last time he’d found her without Hatchet she’d been thrown over the third floor railing only to be saved by August in the nick of time.

When August had demanded his reasoning, September had explained that he’d wanted to test the theory that little piggy’s couldn’t fly. Not only could she not fly (Evie was almost positive no one could-even Nightrealm) she would have died if August hadn’t caught her.

Seeing him wear the same look he’d worn then she stumbled back, not showing the proper manners in the presence of a superior. But Evie’s desire to live outweighed her fear of punishment, even if that meant another slap from Lord Jain. Swallowing, she gave a quick curtsy. “Forgive me, my prince...but...but I have to get to Hatchet now.”

He stopped walking with slow steps towards her. Then pouted. “You have to see my brother?” Evie flicked a terrified look at him and nodded hastily. He glanced over her shoulder with a thoughtful frown as she silently prayed- please let me go.

God answered her plea. After a pause he gave a long winded sigh and rolled his eyes. “Then what are you still standing here for? You should know better than to keep your master waiting. Looks like I’ll just have to return to my former playmate for now.”

Evie didn’t hesitate escaping, giving a quick curtsy and spinning away as he said- what are you still standing here for?- feeling him turn his back towards her. Then he reprimanded about keeping her master waiting, and she muttered under her breath before she could stop herself-“I don’t have a master-”

And regretted it immediately.

Nightrealm had impeccably heightened senses. Something she continued forgetting until it was too late.

Evie’s lungs froze as he asked curiously, “Did you just talk back to me, little piggy?”

Chills raced up her back. Evie barely took in a staggered breath and looked over her shoulder when he flashed, slamming her into the wall. The air was knocked from her lungs, keeping her from opening her mouth to either apologize or call for help as September pinned his bony arm across her chest and looked up at her with a cruel smile.

Before she could recover from the hit he clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her. He leaned up on his toes, allowing her to look straight into his merciless, excited gaze.

He clicked his tongue and pouted. “I was going to be forgiving about you wandering around where you please. Then you had to open that dumb mouth of yours. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it’s because you want me to correct you, little piggy.”

Evie’s heart beat hard in her chest. She hadn’t realized until he said it but she was on the wrong floor. Out of her designated areas.

It was a mistake. A stupid and horrible mistake.

The young man who’d been at the end of September’s wrath a few moments ago ran past them and Evie watched him helplessly as September dragged her towards a door. His door.

Her pulse spiked and she pushed her feet into the floor, jerking her mouth free from his hand. “I... I shouldn’t have said anything...it won’t happen again...!”

He squeezed her arm until she fell into a breathless whimper. “Don’t worry little piggy...after I’m done with you, you won’t be able to speak at all...”

Evie digested his words as he pushed the door open and threw her into his room, shutting it behind him with a finalized click. Evie backed away slowly and shook her head at the delight brightening his features. The crawling along her skin started to burn. And bile coated her tongue.

This had to be what her body was trying to warn her about. And like before it was too late to stop it from happening.

Evie frantically glanced around her for an escape. September’s room looked the exact same as Hatchet’s except he’d moved his couch closer to the king sized poster bed then she’d expected. Her foot snagged on the leg of it and she fell back to the carpeted floor with a heavy thud.

Before she could catch her breath- or think of her next move- he flashed and grabbed her again.

He pressed her against the wall next to the large window, his hand clamping around her throat.

Evie found her voice and begged.“Please don’t do this.”

September gave her a pretty pout. “Oh, but I have to, little piggy,” he said as if he had no choice. As if he didn’t revel in what he was about to do. “You’ll only learn your place once you’ve been punished.”

She shook her head violently. I have to stop him. There has to be something that will make him rethink this.

There had to be some promise -some threat- that would get her out of there. Hatchet appeared in her mind. She needed Hatchet. Even if it meant punishment from him after finding her with September. Whatever he’d do to her wouldn’t be worse than his cruel youngest brother.

She opened her mouth to scream Hatchet’s name- but September caught on faster than she’d anticipated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his small fist cock back then rush forward at inhuman speed. Evie barely registered the hit until her right ear rang painfully from the crash of his fist into the wood, small splintered pieces falling to the black rug.

September dislodged his hand and pulled it back to his side, frowning. “Aw...I missed.”

Evie sucked in a shuddering breath and watched him in horror. The burning in her skin jumped an octave to feel like millions of needles pricking into her simultaneously and the pain made her jump back to life, just as September smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t miss this time...”

“Please,” Evie gasped, fighting to remove the hand around her neck, knowing it was futile, his small fist preparing to hit again. An image of the young man came into her mind and she now understood why he was bleeding. September must have hit him, too. Repeatedly. Like he was about to do to her.

He whispered. “I’m going to enjoy this...”

His narrow shoulder pushed forward and all she could do was slam her eyes shut before the hit came. Hatchet, please help me.

Evie felt the brush of air from the force. Followed with surprise in September’s voice. “Brother! What are you doing here?”

She sucked in a shuddering breath. Hatchet! He’d heard her cry. He’d come to stop September. Opening her eyes she searched for her dark-haired prince and his familiar scowl. She’d take his wrath over September’s any day.

But as her gaze focused she didn’t find Hatchet. Instead, she found August, Hatchet’s 11-year-old-brother. August looked like he could be September’s twin except his features were sharper, like Hatchet. And his emerald eyes were darker. Colder. Those eyes were now locked onto September.

“Are you stupid?” August demanded. Although August was only a few inches taller than September he towered over him, his hand gripping September’s wrist tightly and keeping it inches from her cheek.

“The only stupid one is our dear brother,” sniffed September. “Allowing his pet to do and say what she pleases-it’s his fault I have to be the one to correct her,” he protested when August grabbed a handful of September’s hair and dragged him back.

August snorted, ignoring his struggling. “He’d rip your head off before you even got a second hit in.”

September growled. “He won’t know what doesn’t hurt him.” He was struggling against August, refusing to release the hand around her neck, and Evie whimpered when he squeezed. With one last tug back September's hand left Evie's neck.

“We’ll see if you’re right,” drawled August, finally turning that cold stare to Evie, his expression filled with disdain. A shudder ran through her, and her legs finally gave out and brought her to the ground.

Evie covered her neck protectively as August released September, and she trembled that he was going to let September finish his “correction” when he headed to the door.

“Where are you going?” August didn’t answer September until he propped the door open and stood next to it, leaning against the wood paneling with his arms crossed.

“I don’t feel like dying today.”

September gave him a look of skepticism. “You’re bluffing.”

August answered by pointing to his right cheek. “You drew blood, idiot.”

September flicked a look back at Evie and bared his small white teeth. “I’ll draw even more,” he promised, striding back to her.

Evie cowered as August warned, “you should have been more careful if you didn’t want him coming for you this soon.”

September went rigid and spun to face August. “His nose isn’t that sensitive to her!”

August gave an indifferent shrug. “We’ll see if you’re right.”

“I’m not falling for it.”

August lifted his wrist and glanced at his diamond encrusted watch. “-5...4...3...2-”

September locked murderous eyes on Evie. Then he flashed. And all she could do was yelp and cover her head with her arms. Knowing it wouldn’t protect her in the slightest from the strongest Lamia brother. Knowing the foreboding feeling she’d had all afternoon had come to this.

A hand covered hers and she had to choke down her sob. If you cry they’ll make it worse.

She waited for the hand to inflict pain. Yet it pressed softly, followed by a gentle command. “Evie...look at me.”

The voice didn’t belong to August or September. She lifted her tear-filled eyes and found Hatchet, his face etched in concern.

August interrupted. “I tried to warn him.”

Red flecks swirled in Hatchet’s charcoal gaze. “He’s dead.”

“Told him that, too.” Evie saw past her blurred vision August’s attention on Hatchet. “September has and always will be an impulsive idiot...but so are you.”

Hatchet’s eyes flashed red as he looked at August. “What did you say to me?”

August continued, unbothered by Hatchet’s growing rage. “You come running for an insignificant human and protect her at all costs. But you have no idea who you are trusting so blindly....”

Evie glanced up at August in trepidation as her stomach bunched in knots. What does he mean by that? She stole a look at Hatchet who was still glaring August down to see if he understood yet his expression was unreadable.

August went to leave, but stopped in the open doorway. “Keep your pet on a tight leash from now on, dear brother,” he said cooly. Then he glanced over his shoulder, his features sharp. “Or you’ll see just what kind of fool you are.”

Hatchet snarled as August left them alone. The feeling in her stomach intensified when he brought his focus back to her, his eyes now the color of blood. “Evie...what did you do?”

Evie stared into his cold, unrelenting gaze, and she realized the attack she’d been waiting for hadn’t yet happened. And she couldn’t stop from wondering if the feeling she’d had all afternoon led her to this moment. That all this time it wouldn’t be Lord Jain or September that hurt her. It would be  Hatchet.

The notion made tears burn her eyes and spill down her cheeks.

Hatchet’s hardened look didn’t waver, but his voice softened. “You idiot.” Evie clamped her eyes shut and waited for him to hurt her the same way the other Nightrealm did. When she felt his hand on the back of her head she tensed and expected the hit to come. But Hatchet didn’t hit her. He did what Hatchet always did. He protected her.

He gently pressed the back of her head into his chest and held her tight.

She bit her lower lip to stop the growing pressure in her chest from escaping until he murmured, “you’re safe now...I have you-” and the pressure broke free, her sobs echoing in the room.

Evie gripped the front of his shirt and held on for dear life. Relieved. Scared.

“I’m sorry.... I’m so sorry-”

for always getting into trouble.

For always needing you to save me.

For thinking you’d hurt me like them.

His chest rose and fell against her. “I know,” he sighed in a reassuring tone, and it was like he’d heard her unspoken thoughts. And it only served to make her cry harder.

Hatchet pulled her closer to him, his other hand smoothing down hair on the top of her head. “You’re okay now. Everything is okay.”

And as Hatchet held and reassured her, Evie allowed herself to forget the warning signs and feel safe, believing that the storm really was over. When it hadn’t even begun.

August's words about Hatchet being the biggest fool weren't just said to make him mad...

Because soon the storm would hit. And Evie would prove him right:

she would be the one to make Hatchet out to be the biggest fool of all.

FIVE

Evie stared at her speckled white ceiling and sniffled.

Hatchet had ordered her to go to sleep after bringing her back to the correct floor but she couldn’t. Every time she tried to shut her eyes she saw her near death experience play out, over and over.

Why did she go to the wrong floor? Why did she go towards the crying? Why didn’t she scream when he’d come towards her- or more importantly:

Why was the feeling of dread still with her?

She turned on her side and tried to get comfortable, but the forming bruise around her neck from September made that impossible. She sighed, pushing herself again onto her back, returning to look at the same ceiling.

I wonder where Hatchet went. He’d left her at her bedroom door and told her to stay there until he came back. Before she’d been able to ask him where he was going he’d flashed. Gone.

Evie wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the swirl of red in his eyes. The resolute look he’d had on his face. He was probably going to find September to kill him, just like he’d told August. Although Evie couldn’t stop the moment of hope that he’d succeed in exacting revenge on her behalf, she knew Hatchet had no right to go after him. Not after the way she’d disrespected September.

Not for a human.

Rules were enforced to the letter at the Lamia mansion. And by the rules September had every right to hurt her. Yet Hatchet didn’t care.

Worry made her roll from one side to another. What if he gets in trouble because of me?

August’s last remarks returned to her like a ghost’s whisper, and she grabbed her stomach.

September has and always will be an impulsive idiot...but so are you.

You have no idea who you are trusting so blindly.

Evie didn’t know much about August but she’d heard from Hatchet he saw glimpses of the future. It would explain how he’d known September was going to get caught and why he’d stopped him from hitting her. If he’d seen that then maybe he also saw something about Hatchet.

About her.

Did he see me hurting Hatchet? Evie bit her lower lip and glanced at her door, her skin prickling all over. She willed Hatchet to come back. When he didn’t she sat up and swung her legs off the side of her bed. If Hatchet was after September she wouldn’t be able to find him. Not until he’d exacted his revenge.

Evie’s bare feet hit the cool, hardwood floor. If Hatchet comes back and I’m not here he will be so mad at me. But she needed to know what August meant. She had to find him. Even if it would get her into more trouble.

The thought of August’s icy stare made her pause. August terrified her. In a way that she couldn’t explain. There was something dark beneath his looks. Something that felt like she was always on the verge of walking into a nightmare even though he’d never physically harmed her. It wasn’t the same feeling she’d had with Lord Jain and September. The fear she felt with them was mixed with hate.

She swallowed down the feeling and fought off her desire to stay in her room. It won’t be pleasant but I need to find August. When that wasn’t enough to make her slip on the flats resting next to her bed she added- before something bad happens to Hatchet.

That was enough to convince her to leave. She put on her shoes and rushed to the door.

Her plan was simple: Find August first. Then find Hatchet.

That was her plan.

She’d start at the library before going back to the second floor to see if he was in his room. Hopefully, he was in one of those two places and alone.

Evie barely reached for her doorknob when it turned on its own. She held her breath as her door was flung open, and she jumped back, staring up into a young woman’s face.

Lissa, Evie’s human caretaker of the week, looked at her and sneered. “What kind of companion are you?” she demanded angrily, crossing lavender-sleeved arms over her ample chest.

Evie barely recovered her shock to ask shakily, “Lissa? W-what are you doing here?”

Lissa’s dark brown eyes narrowed to slits. “Why the prince picked a stupid kid like you is beyond me.” She uncrossed her arms and whipped her hand out, Evie not moving a muscle, even when Lissa grabbed her upper arm and ordered, “let’s go. He has been waiting.”

Evie complied-not like she had a choice while being dragged-but asked breathlessly, “a-are you talking about Hatchet?” When Lissa merely shot a look of pure hatred over her shoulder at her, Evie continued, explaining, “I...I thought he told me to wait in my room for him-”

“Shut. Up.”

Evie opened her mouth to argue but fell quiet when Lissa squeezed the same spot September had earlier, pain radiating down her arm. They left the basement floor and went up a flight of stairs in silence. Evie struggled to keep up with Lissa’s long legs, getting to the main corridor and heading down it towards the grand hall, her blood slicking to ice as she was rushed through the marble hall and towards another corridor, realizing too late where she was headed.

“No...”

She hadn’t been near this corridor since the choosing of Hatchet’s companion. The corridor where Hatchet’s father Lord November and his attendants resided. Lissa seemed unperturbed by the intimidating presence of the Nightrealm members who were higher in power, like Lord November Lamia, the ruler of the Lamia clan. Evie had only seen Hatchet’s father in passing but she recalled the utter terror his presence gave her. And she had envisioned death trailing close behind him.

That same feeling was with her now, and she wanted to get away. She’s not taking me to Hatchet. He avoided this side of the mansion where his father and everyone who served him spent most of their days. The question then was: who was Lissa bringing her to?

Lissa snapped at her for slowing them down. “Don’t think I won’t hit you right here and right now,” she warned, yanking Evie with a painful jerk closer to that door.

“No,” began Evie in a panicked cry. “I...I need to go see Hatchet!”

“I told you to shut up, you stupid kid!”

“Let me go,” pleaded Evie as she pulled with all her might to escape Lissa’s tightening grip.

Lissa whipped around and raised her hand to strike. “I’ll kill you!”

A door creaked open and a melodic voice interrupted. “That is enough, Lissa.”

Lissa’s head spun to look at the owner of the voice. But Evie didn’t need to see the person at the end of the hallway to have her question confirmed. That voice haunted her nightmares after all.

A slender hand beckoned them forward. Lissa gave a sigh of contentment. “Lord Jain...I brought her...as promised.”

Jain chuckled and Evie trembled. “Good girl. You may go now,” he said with a dismissive wave to Lissa. Lissa did a gracious curtsy, her straight brown hair covering her face before righting herself, shooting Evie one last look before heading down the corridor towards the main hall, her white high heels clicking loudly on the marble floor.

Evie didn’t move an inch despite every nerve in her body screaming to run. She was so scared she forgot to duck her head as a sign of respect.

Why does Jain want to see me? She had the terrible feeling she was going to find out very soon. He stepped away from the door frame and gestured with a hand towards the office. “Come in.”

Her hands shook as she obeyed, walking slowly towards him when all she wanted to do was spin around and run. But she wouldn’t be able to take one step before Jain got to her. She flicked a terrified look at him when she passed by him, his smile the same as when he flashed that day in the great hall and corrected her.

He followed her in and she winced when the door shut. She stopped moving and dropped her gaze, listening intently as he walked around, her stopping in front. He hummed, and she caught him clasping his hands behind his back.

Evie felt his glinted eyes assess her coolly, beckoning her to look at him despite the rules. Despite being terrified.

She did. And she saw them gleam.

“I think it’s time we’ve had a little chat.”

SIX

Evie left Jain’s office and stared blankly as she walked down the corridor.

Did that really just happen? She replayed the memory of Jain, again and again, waiting for the truth to come through the cracks.

Finding the same recording every time she played it.

After entering Jain’s office and standing in front of him she’d expected to be corrected for talking back to September. For causing trouble like she always did.

The prickling along her skin had increased its intensity and had felt like a second-degree sunburn as he’d informed her it was time they’d had a little chat. Waiting for him to mete out his version of a punishment like he’d done two weeks ago.

She’d never expected him to place a hand on her trembling shoulder. Never expected him to say the words, “I’m sorry”.

The shock of it had made her brain stop working. Unable to compute what was actually happening. Telling her after his apology that so long as she was Hatchet’s companion it would never happen again. She replayed it over and over, like a dream she didn’t want to forget. Like a lie she wanted to believe with all her heart.

Out of all the insanity that day it was Lord Jain’s apology that topped everything else. It was almost enough to erase the reminder there was still something coming. But only almost.

Evie entered the main hall, so lost in her shock she didn’t hear or see Hatchet coming down the stairs. Not until he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him did she blink out of the daze she was still in. “Hatchet?”

He lightly shook her as he reprimanded. “What are you doing outside of your room? Honestly... Do you ever do as you’re told?”

His exasperation towards her didn’t have the same effect as it usually did. Not while she was lost in the memory of Lord Jain- a noble- apologizing to her. A human.

Hatchet was still waiting for an answer. Evie looked up at him, her mind still hazy from the shock, and admitted. “Lord Jain wanted to see me.”

Hatchet’s features sharpened with suspicion. “What did you say?”

Her eyebrows creased. “He summoned me to his office,” she began slowly, trying to recollect what happened herself. “I just got out.”

His eyes flashed red and his spidery fingers gripped her shoulders. “For what?” Before Evie could tell him the reason, he asked through gritted teeth, “was it about what happened with September?”

She shook her head but he didn’t see it as he now looked up at the ceiling, shadows dancing over his austere face from the sunlight shimmering down from the glass ceiling above.

“I will kill that little bastard...!”

Evie had forgotten about what had happened with her and September earlier. It didn’t matter anymore after what just happened. “That’s not why.” She waited until Hatchet looked at her to explain, “It might sound crazy... but he called me to his office to apologize for hitting me.”

The red swirl in his glare lessened. “He what?”

“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it, too,” she said at his look of skepticism. “but that’s what happened.”

For a moment Hatchet just stared at her. Then he released his hold and grabbed her arms, bringing them close to his face, his eyes narrowing. “Where did he do it,” he hissed, ignoring the curious gazes from other Nightrealm. Now that the sun was beginning to dip into the cool of night the marble hall started to fill with Nightrealm, their companions serving them wine glasses with a deep red liquid. Evie should leave as humans not serving weren’t allowed in the hall during this time, but because Hatchet was now with her no one would say anything to either of them. Even when he continued to spin her around and demand loudly to show him where Jain had bitten her. Even when her skin started to feel painful.

After the third spin and catching the ambivalent stares aimed at her from the other Nightrealm she reached out and grabbed Hatchet’s hands, giving him a pleading look. “He didn't bite me, Hatchet, I swear. He really just wanted to apologize . . .”

But Hatchet wasn’t listening to her. Evie fell off in a gasp as he ripped his hands out of hers and glared. “How naive are you?” he snapped, his pupils fully red now. She recoiled as he grabbed her arm firmly and locked his eyes on her. “He manipulated you to forget the real reason he wanted to see you.”

Evie tensed at the accusation. “You think I wouldn’t remember him doing that?”

Hatchet gave a harsh laugh. “Of course not, Evie. Don’t be this dumb.”

“I’m not dumb,” she repeated, stung. Then she added in a whisper as more Nightrealm entered the hall, sensing their disapproval at his outburst. Her skin felt like sharp nails clawed at her. “Why is it so hard to believe he said he was sorry to me?”

Narrowing his eyes he answered her like he was talking to a child. “Because what you want me to believe is impossible. No Nightrealm would ever stoop so low and apologize to an expendable human- damnit Evie, don’t look at me like that,” he muttered as his words slapped her harder than Jain had done. He ran a hand through his midnight hair and gave a sharp sigh. “You know what I mean.”

Evie lowered her eyes and took in a steeling breath against the pain tightening her chest, staring at the little see through buttons on his shirt as she did her best to keep the tears from entering her voice. Warning bells rang loudly in her head but she was too focused on what he’d said to care. “You think I’m expendable...?”

“To them, yes,” he said in irritation. “But to me, you are-”

“Your companion,” she finished for him, the burning behind her eyes blurring everything. She forced her watery gaze to meet his hardened stare. “Your food source.”

His eyes widened as if he understood his mistake. Then he sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders again. “Please don’t be so dramatic. You know that’s not all you are to me.”

Someone cleared their throat and the low murmurs of the Nightrealm hushed. It caught Hatchet’s attention, his head craning to the side, his expression becoming murderous. “Jain,” he growled. “This is your fault.”

Evie didn’t need to turn to see Lord Jain’s smirk. She could sense it through the way he sauntered towards them, his steps slow and unhurried as he faced down the burning wrath of Hatchet. “My prince, have I done something to offend you?”

Hatchet’s entire face contorted in rage.“You manipulated my companion.”

Evie gasped and stared at Hatchet in horror. He wasn’t just confronting Lord Jain on what he thought happened. He was accusing his loyalty. In front of almost the entire Lamia clan. She wasn’t competent in Nightrealm politics but she did know what Hatchet just did was grounds for death. And everyone in the hall was now watching the conflict, waiting to see what Lord Jain would do against such an insult. “Hatchet...”

The entire hall watched Lord Jain’s reaction at the grave accusation. He merely sighed and shook his head slowly. “I'm offended, my prince, that you think so low of me. Not just in me,” he added, “but in your chosen companion as well.”

Hatchet’s fingers dug into Evie’s shoulders, making her wince, her stomach hurting. “You have no right to speak about her,” he snarled.

Evie glanced at Jain who smiled, amused. “Perhaps when she was your companion, yes.”

“What do you mean “was”?”

Lord Jain continued on, amused. “You just accused her of breaking the contract, my prince, by doubting her loyalty.”

The crowd of Nightrealm hushed into excited whispers as Hatchet’s hands began to tremble. Although he wasn’t her favorite person right now his reaction worried her, the pain in her stomach building as she saw him clench his jaw. “H-hatchet? W-what’s going on?”

What does it mean to doubt my loyalty? What’s going to happen?

Lord Jain sounded apologetic as he finished with, “and we all know the price to pay for that, my prince...don’t we?”

Hatchet tensed, his eyes narrowing. Evie felt herself shaking, terrified to find it coming from him, the darkening sense the storm was about to hit. “W-what does that mean?” she whispered.

Since Lord Jain had entered the hall, Hatchet hadn’t looked at her. Now he did, and his gaze was filled with a mixture of anger and something else. Something she’d never seen in his eyes before.

Something she recognized all too well.

Fear.

Her skin burned. Her heart stopped beating. All afternoon she’d thought getting slapped by Jain or attacked by September was the worst case scenario. How naive she’d been, just like Hatchet had said only a couple of minutes ago.

There were only two outcomes for her that would make Hatchet look this scared.

Death. Feeder.

Evie stared at Hatchet until he blurred. Until he had to look away. He straightened and bared his teeth. Then swept a scathing look around the hall at the other members who indifferently returned to their conversations with each other, yet all still waited for the decision Hatchet had to make:

betray his clan. Or betray her.

Evie didn’t know which option for him was worse. What would happen if he did the former?

She wished she’d paid better attention when Hatchet read to her about the policies of Nightrealm. Wished she’d have known this was going to happen to stop it.

August’s words returned to her. Warning her too little, too late.

Jain waited patiently for his decision, and Hatchet answered by releasing Evie to grab her hand, dragging her towards the corridor behind the stairs. Evie sucked in a trembling breath, waiting for him to denounce her in front of everyone. To take her to where the feeders were trapped.

Instead, Hatchet surprised all of them. “We’re done here.” Then, to her, “let’s go, Evie.”

Jain clicked his tongue again. “My, what an example you are setting, my prince, for those who will one day follow you. Choosing a mere human girl who you do not trust over your own clan. Your family”

Evie winced when Hatchet spun them around to yell. “I did not question her loyalty, I questioned yours!”

Gasps ran throughout the hall, and they were worse than the hushed whispers. Hatchet caught on faster to the sudden tension in the hall than she did, demanding. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

Behind Hatchet’s back Evie found Jain’s smile crook up. “One must be to survive these days.”

Evie’s mouth went dry as she filled in the blanks of what hadn’t been spoken.

Hatchet had just declared war on his father’s right hand man. Which was exactly what Jain looked like he wanted to happen.

Jain smiled. “What shall you do now my prince? Still planning on running away?”

Hatchet bared his teeth. Then took a threatening step forward.

Evie’s head thumped in agony and she grabbed it, letting out a whimper.

No...The storm. It was there.

Hatchet stopped moving towards Jain and looked alarmed, grabbing her by arms when her legs buckled, the pain too much to keep standing.

Hatchet peered into her face. “Evie...Evie-”

A loud crash overhead interrupted his attention. Evie let out a sob. Because she now knew whatever was about to happen was what she’d been trying to warn herself about all day.

She forced her gaze upwards to where Hatchet was now focused. Everyone in the hall did the same.

The rounded dome was cracked, the fissures stretching across the glass like fingers.

Then a shadow covered the hall, and someone let out a startled cry just as black boots slammed into the center of the glass, caving the dome inward, raining shards down over them.

A man yelled, “It’s the GARD-” and everyone in the hall jumped to life.

Evie had no idea what was happening before she was grabbed by Hatchet, his whole body covering hers from the glass raining down on them.

She slammed her eyes shut just as the sharp pieces poured over them, the crash of glass mixed with the screams of people in the hall making her ears ring.

As soon as it started it stopped. And silence deafened the great hall.

Evie clung to him, her cheek wet. Lifting her head up she discovered it wasn’t tears that ran down her face. But blood. Hatchet’s blood.

“H-hatchet...” She unclenched her hold on him and lifted a trembling hand to wipe the blood away, but he grabbed it and placed it on his neck, covering hers. “Don’t look so scared....” he said with a tense smile. “I’m going to be just fine-”

“My prince- watch out!”

The warning came too late. Black ropes fell through the opened ceiling and people in olive green suits cascaded down. They hit the marble floor and pulled out guns.

Chaos broke out in the hall and screams ricocheted off the high ceiling.

All of it happened so fast. And when the intruders lowered their weapons and stopped shooting they discovered Evie screaming in anguish. Cradling Hatchet in her arms.

A bullet pierced right through his heart.

AFTER

THE

RAID

SEVEN

Seven years later...

Blood permeated through the dank hall. Pungent and sweet. Burning.

The piercing shrieks of monsters echoed, their howls of agony thumping like an erratic heartbeat against Marina’s eardrums. She staggered barefoot through a maze of tunnels, every part of her body curdling. Tearing apart.

I have to get out. Her steps slowed, then quickened, just like her heart. She needed to escape. Needed to get help.

A soft chuckle whispered behind her like an echo. “Now where did you run off to?”

Marina’s short black hair flew into her eyes as she looked behind her and searched. Finding no one. She clamped a hand over her mouth, the dull throb in her head intensifying each breath she tried to take in. She recognized the lilting voice like she would a boyfriend. It was the same voice as the one she’d followed out of the 16+ nightclub the moment he beckoned her forward.

How he’d lured her outside when all of her senses told her to run she didn’t know. And now it was too late.

The place where he’d injected her with the thick, black liquid burned as if ice was being held there too long. Tears begged to spill from her ink black eyes but nothing came out. Rejecting her. Rejecting her humanity.

Even without knowing what they’d given her Marina knew she wouldn’t survive it. Like how her body attacked her after having shellfish, the hives and swollen throat her penance for foolishly eating any piece of it.

A small price she’d gladly pay compared to the black liquid they’d pushed into her bloodstream.

Moisture finally slipped free from her walnut eyes and ran down her cheek. Marina touched it and smelled not salt but iron.

Blood.

Marina’s grandma had once told her the story during a visit to the nursing home how she’d watched her roommate die of a cerebral aneurysm, blood coming out of her eyes, nose, and ears.

She wiped the rest running down her cheek and ignored the sharp pang in her gums from the sight and smell.

I have to warn them. I can’t die yet. The notion of death wasn’t nearly as terrifying as never relaying the message. Of letting them know what had returned back from the dead.

The reminder of it made her push down on the leather jacket she’d worn-her mom’s- and feel the envelope with the signature seal.

A sound caught her attention and she jerked her head down the hall. Is that... a horn? Marina listened for another split second hearing the tick of a car’s signal coming through the slab of concrete lining the walls. She forced her steps to move faster, towards it, pushing away the wheeze of her lungs and the blood slipping from her thin nose.

Not yet...Not yet. A low whistle chased after her, a master searching for its dog. “Where did you go, little recruit?”

Terror sliced through her. Keep going. Keep going. She hobbled faster down the hall and saw around the bend a concrete stairwell coming into view. Blood slipped down her throat and gagged her. Don’t stop. She reached the stairwell when it was finally too much, her body crumpling in on itself.

Not yet, she repeated, relying on the mantra from her training at the GARD to push her forward-on hands and knees- up the stairs.

Halfway up the cold steps the blood in her stomach pushed its way out of her, and every single one of her pores leaked out the stench of bile and death.

She let out a dry sob, but moved around it and kept pushing herself to get to the landing. To the door.

“I can smell your blood,” her kidnapper taunted. She imagined the angelic face and it made her crawl faster. Thinking about the liquid gold eyes that dragged her out of safety.

Keep going. She’d reached the landing. A large storm door was only feet away from her.

More blood purged itself from her and she choked on it.

The pounding in her head slammed at a manic pace, and black patches rose to the top of her arms. Marina’s face screwed up in pain and determination, dragging her failing body to the door, shoving herself against it, all the while hearing her captor getting closer.

“Look at this mess you’ve made.”

Marina shoved her body against the horizontal bar and begged whoever existed beyond this world- “Please...please help me.”

The door opened, and Marina sobbed in relief, tears of blood streaking down her long face.

Then she noticed the person standing in front of her. “My my... you do not look well, little recruit.” a foot lifted and pushed into her chest. The kick made Marina’s lungs fill faster with blood and she felt like she was drowning.

The envelope with the insignia slipped from her coat and fell to the floor.

The golden rose glinted as the sun caught it before the door closed behind her second captor.

She blinked once and then let her eyes close.

Then everything stopped.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Harmon airport was not the place to be at eight in the morning on a Monday in late August. It was small, crowded, and the only three runways it had were in a constant state of chaos- and today was no exception.

August listened to the dim drone of the attendant on the airport’s speaker system relay the bad news of possible cancellations due to bad weather. He clicked his tongue. And waited for the yelling to begin, pushing down in the black nylon airport seat, his black zip up hoodie sliding up his back.

I knew we should have flown out of Burbank. He silently cursed September for booking their flights and prayed his ears rang or his palms itched wherever he was currently at in the airport, doing God only knew what with God only knew who.

August adjusted his dark grey bluetooth earbud in hopes it drowned out the woman feet away from him. She was pulling Karen moves, her tight fitted cream sleeveless dress tugging against her body when she pushed closer to the gate’s desk.

“What do you mean there are delays? I have a meeting to get to in six hours! Do you have any idea how important I am?” she demanded haughtily to the pretty young flight attendant who to August’s amazement kept her expression impassive.

He snorted. Important my ass. August flicked a look of disdain at the woman’s back, wondering what she would do if he showed her how inconsequential she really was. Then he remembered Zed’s warning about not getting into trouble and he shook the desire to walk up to her out of his head.

You’re lucky, he silently told her. Or else I would make sure you’d never speak again.

The sound of blood thumping violently made him shift his gaze to the pretty attendant, her plum colored lips lifting in a stretched smile. “Ma’am, I completely understand your frustration, and I assure you we’re doing everything we can to get you to your destination...”

The woman cut her off. “Try harder!” she whacked her manicured hand on the desk and startled the agent, her black hair swishing behind her back.

August ran his tongue over his teeth and tapped his foot. One second... All I’d need is one second.

As much as he wanted to do it, the move was too risky. Although he and September had avoided meeting anyone in the GARD- the eradication unit that killed his entire family- it didn’t mean he was safe. They could be there now. Watching. Waiting for him to slip up.

Forget Zed having to bail him out of jail. He’d have to come pick up August and September’s dead bodies if the GARD found out they were still alive.

The thought cooled some of his anger. He reluctantly decided to turn up the volume all the way on his phone so he wouldn’t have to find out whether Zed would actually come for them or not.

Yet Led Zeppelin just wasn’t doing the trick. Not with his damn incredible hearing picking up every word from Karen.

Groaning, he jumped up from his seat. And walked away from the yelling. He didn’t care if September had to go searching for him. It would serve him right after he followed the drunk punk with a shaved head was a smart idea.

September had no impulse control. He never had. It didn’t matter that they were in enemy territory. If September wanted to do something he did it.

August wished he’d had that kind of reckless abandonment.Feeding on whoever tickled his fancy, the way September did. Maybe that’s why I’m so irritated....I haven’t eaten in almost two days. Alcohol would help take off the edge except he was considered too young in America to get a double pour of Johnny Walker on the rocks. Another reason he wanted to get out of this country and back to Spain as fast as possible.

August wouldn’t have ever come back to his old home if he and September didn’t have to finish the paperwork to finalize selling the mansion. Prince Zed had kindly offered to send his human pet to take care of it for them but August felt like he needed to see to it himself. To know it was finally over.

A pang of guilt smacked into him at not stepping inside of his family home one last time. Except he didn’t think he could handle the memories of his last day there. Remembering the screams of terror. Finding the main hall covered in black blood. Dull eyes and mouths opened in silent screams everywhere.

Shaking off the chill the memory gave him he passed by the one bookstore and caught sight of a headline on a local paper. He backtracked and came to a stop, reading:

Famed Mansion to Become Super Mall.

His dark emerald eyes rose in surprise. Speaking of the sale. That was fast. He had just signed the papers yesterday and the media was already alerted. He shook his head.

Humans...so pathetic. The things they concern themselves with never ceases to amaze me. They were so easily entertained. Simple. Like little puppies.

He picked up the paper and scanned the front page, searching for any sign they cared about something actually important. It wasn’t until the fifth page did he find a topic other than being about what stores were going in the new upcoming mall and how exciting the size of the underground parking lot was going to be.

A picture of a girl around his age smiled in black and white, her dark hair curling around her shoulders. The caption read:

Anissa Levins Still Missing

August skimmed through the article quickly before slamming the paper back onto the metal wrack. Five girls had now gone missing in Jewel Beach City.

There’s a serial kidnapper/killer running rampant and all they care about is capitalistic bullshit.

His blood heated. None of this would be happening if his clan was still running the city. Nightrealm cared too much about young, lively humans to let them die in vain. To be killed when they were in their prime.

He felt the heavyset clerk behind the counter eyeing him with a frown. “You gonna buy that?”

August lifted his head and his gaze flashed with red, the stocky clerk’s small, dark eyes widening in fear. “Nope,” said August curtly. “I’ve seen everything I need to see.”

He walked away from the clerk and the shop, gritting his teeth and coming to a stop.

I should be stopping these murders from happening. It is my responsibility as the eldest Lamia now. The guilt of forsaking his duties to hide under the protection of Prince Zed made his shoulders shake in rage. Not for the first time August found himself wishing Hatchet was still alive. He’d never have run. Never have tried to hide. The realization made August feel like a coward and a failure. Like he was letting his family’s legacy down.

He shut his eyes as his mind cruelly reminded him- what family? There was no one left after the raid except for September and August. After seven years of searching and following half-leads and his foolish hope he’d finally accepted the truth. He’d grown tired of chasing ghosts. And after all the money he owed Prince Zed for those expeditions all over the globe, selling the mansion was the only way to pay off those debts.

Zed had insisted it wasn’t necessary since he was richer than the Queen of England-his words, not August’s- but August refused the charity. If there was one thing August would do it was repay his debts. Even if it had killed him to sign the paperwork and sell his family home- he’d had to do it. He’d had no choice.

August expelled a sharp breath. It’s better this way. Now September and I can put all of this behind us and move on. August would never admit it out loud but he was glad he still had September. At least they had each other to get through these dark times.

Speaking of. . .

Where the hell did he go?

August opened his eyes and was relieved to find the heat burning them gone. With his luck the GARD had already been alerted by the store clerk that someone with red eyes was there. He glanced around and searched for any people walking by who might exude that overbearing cockiness but instead he got the usual reaction: women sucking in deep breaths and their heart rates spiking. Men sizing him up while staring in begrudging awe.

A downside to being a Nightrealm member. He was always noticed by the humans because of his impeccable genetic lineage. He clicked his tongue and tugged his hood down over the dark blue hair, wishing he’d not let September convince him that changing his hair color would help keep them off the GARD’s radar.

That’s what I get for listening to September. It had sounded like a good idea then. Now, seeing the looks and hearing the gasps he wished he’d just bought a damn baseball cap like he’d wanted to in the first place. Out of all of the colors September had given him, it had to be dark blue. Not teal. Not pastel. Dark blue.

He grumbled. Yeah, really inconspicuous, September.

Two teenage girls proved him right as they came to a halt not far from him, gaping.

“Oh my God...look at him.” August turned his back to them.He was going to kill September for this.

His chance to leave was stopped when the other one squealed. “Do you think he’s with the purple-haired one? Maybe they’re part of a music group or something!”

Purple hair? August spun on his red checkered vans and faced them. The two girls were wearing matching black sweaters with the words “Midnight Seven” written in dark red writing.

He walked up to them when the first girl gasped, lost in her conversation with her friend. “You think? Girl! We should take a picture then before he looks. . .”

“Excuse me ladies,” he interrupted with a smile he hoped was charming. The girls both jerked their heads to look at him, their eyes nearly popping from their heads. The one who’d wanted to take his picture burned red, her freckles darkening all over her face. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you said you saw someone with purple hair?”

Their mouths opened but no sound came out. They both nodded.

His eyes narrowed. “Where did you see him?”

Simultaneously, they pointed at a bathroom about twenty feet from them. He crooked his head towards their direction and saw the men’s bathroom sign. The faint scent of blood wafting out.

Biting down his anger he forced his head to look back at the two girls and winked at them, resisting the urge to make both of them come with him so he could feed. “Thank you, ladies,” he rasped, his throat aching.

The scent of blood wafting from the bathroom wasn’t helping him hold onto his self-control. He scowled. Damn it, September.

August’s features hardened as he strode to the opening in the wall, envisioning his fist slamming into September’s face...again and again-

His vision flashed black and hot agony raced up the back of his head. He stumbled into the wall and growled at the familiar feeling. Come on...not now!

He knew there was nothing he could do until the vision fulfilled itself. It had been months since he’d had his last one, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of this vision. It slammed into him and his head felt like it was about to combust. He cradled it as he saw in his mind a shadow moving, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.

Thump, thump, thump. “Treasure...here.”

August heard the sound of wood splitting and cracking before strands of light peeked through. Red eyes glowing through a jagged hole.

Then it vanished. August sucked in a staggering breath and pressed his fingers to the back of his neck, dismayed to find it covered in sweat. What the hell did I just see? He hadn’t had a vision that powerful since the night of the raid. And it terrified him.

Steadying himself against the grey wall he recalled what pushed its way into his mind.

There was something familiar about that wood. The voice.

His heart thumped in his broad chest. It was too much to hope for. The disappointment had been too great every time he’d discovered the leads he’d followed had never brought him to his family. Only liars. Scammers that wanted to try and rob August and September of their money.

But this one didn’t come from emails and half-assed written letters. It came from a vision. And his visions had never misled him.

Ignoring the concerned looks from passersby-including the two girls- August straightened and walked briskly into the men’s room. Heading straight for the last stall where the stench of alcohol and blood permeated the air.

He rapped his knuckles on the door. “September.”

A muffled moan came through the aluminum. August banged on the door again, louder this time. “September, we need to go.” He had no idea when his vision would take place-something that would have been really helpful. All he could count on based on past incidents was that it typically ranged from a few minutes to several hours-always within the same day.

Not that September cared a lick about the urgency in his tone.

A musical voice responded, annoyed. “I’m a little busy right now, brother...”

Some of the men who’d made the mistake of entering the bathroom glanced over before walking out. He was drawing too much attention. Soon there’d be TSA agents watching him-or worse- and he couldn’t have that. Not now. Not when he had to see if this time was real.

“Make yourself not busy,” he snapped, knocking again. “We need to head back to the mansion. Now.” August was tall enough to look over the stall door and see the shaved head of September’s victim. Another soft moan answered him and it took everything in August to not rip the door from its hinges.

Thankfully, September had the uncanny ability to test his patience right before it frayed. Right as he went to bash his fist through the metal the lock clicked, the door cracking open. A man with a shaved head and flushed cheeks pushed past August and stumbled for the exit. September took his sweet time to come out of the stall, wiping his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

He grinned up at August, his emerald eyes shining. “I have to say I was worried about him being bitter...but he turned out to be quite delectable.” August looked at him with barely-contained patience. “What?”

August didn’t fall for the innocent facade and grabbed the back of September’s draping black sweater, dragging him from the bathroom. “If we get found out I’m going to request watching you die before they kill me.”

September lifted his head and laughed. “You know, you wouldn’t be so testy if you’d just feed, brother. You’d be just as happy as I am all the time.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“What? Afraid someone will overhear us and guess our meaning?” September covered his mouth and pointed when they’d emerged from the bathroom. “Maybe they already have,” he said with a dramatic gasp. August went rigid as he inspected where he was gesturing, his blood running cold.

The two girls noticed his stare and broke into a tizzy.

“Oh my God-”

“-they are together!”

September wrapped his arms around his stomach and let out peals of laughter. August silenced it with a sound slap to the back of his head, messing up his layered purple hair. “Hey! That’s abuse!”

“Keep talking and I’ll show you abuse.”

When they got outside of the airport August hailed down a cab, finally releasing his hold on September who had remained incredibly silent since August threatened him.

Now freed, September shot him a look and fixed the white collar of the shirt underneath the sweater. “Care to tell me why we are leaving the airport and getting back into a smelly cab?”

The smelly cab in question pulled up with an abrupt sharp turn against the sidewalk and August opened the back door.

September pinched his small, straight nose and made a face. But August didn’t have time to appease his childishness right now.

“Get in.” When September just stood there, arms crossing over his lean chest, August glared. “We have to go back to the mansion.”

September lifted a thin brow at him that disappeared under his bright purple bangs. “For what? I thought our business was done here.”

August let the clench of nerves settle in his stomach before relaying the truth. “I saw something,” he began slowly, already seeing September’s expression turn skeptical. “I don’t know what it is, but I know it’s important.”

September’s nose scrunched up as he looked like he was contemplating his answer. After all of August’s other failed visions he didn't blame September for his reaction. Out of the two gifts he’d been born with, his visions were nearly useless, always warning him that something was going to happen, but never exactly what.

He almost decided to leave him behind and go see for himself what waited at the mansion when September surprised him, stepping off the sidewalk and standing close to the open door.

“If you’re wrong, and you wasted my very precious time again,” warned September, looking up at August with a humorless look, “you can’t say anything for the rest of the trip about who I spend my time with. Got it?”

Before August had a chance to argue, September slid into the back of the cab and ordered the cabbie who was watching them with an irritated look- “turn around and drive.”

August barely slid in next to him before the cabbie put the beat up yellow car into drive and turned his blinker on.

“164 Mountain Road,” commanded August.

“And step on it.”

EIGHT

The mansion wasn’t scheduled to be demolished for at least another month.

Jackie had thought the hard part would be getting the original owners to sign the papers once they’d learned what would happen to their home, but that had been surprisingly easy and painless. What was really causing the project to come to a standstill was Jewel Beach City Hall and their reluctance to tear down such a historic place.

Everyone who’d been ready to get started to build their new fancy mall was outraged.

He was, however, more than okay with the block in plans. Because now he had all the time he needed to scour the mansion for the hidden room where riches were rumored to be stored.

As the project manager for the construction crew Jackie had had to meet with the woman on the historic committee to discuss the demolition.

What he hadn’t planned to discuss was that the Lamia mansion had been mentioned in several biographical accounts of famous people and they’d all discussed there being secret halls and traps built into it, including a treasure room where all their wealth and priceless objects sat waiting. And he knew what it was he had to do.

He had to find it first.

If I can get my hands on all of it I can quit this shit job and move to Jamaica. The heavy set of rusted brass keys jangled in his pocket and he moved with purpose down the darkened long corridor, the image of lying on the beach and being served under a cabana making him whistle.

It was hot outside but the mansion held a chill that seemed almost unnatural without air conditioning. If he’d believed in supernatural mumbo jumbo he might think the drop in temperature was from the ghosts of past inhabitants. But Jackie was a realist. Ghosts didn’t exist.

What did exist were the horrors of living paycheck to paycheck. Dealing with polished businessmen who acted like they crapped in gold toilets. An ex-wife who refused to get off her lazy ass and get a job so he wouldn’t have to pay her alimony while she kept dating 24-year-old men looking for greencards.

Jackie secretly hated that he’d been unable to compare to the well-toned blond-haired and blue-eyed men his ex-wife wanted, his dark features, stocky build, and 5’8” height everything she now hated.

Once I find the treasure it won’t matter what I look like. Women will want me all the same. Thinking about the shock on his ex-wife’s Botoxed face made him whistle louder. Put a little more pep in his step.

He’d already searched every single room. Searched behind every piece of furniture, clock, picture frame. Always ending up empty handed.

But he wasn’t deterred. If anything it solidified where the room must be located: hiding in plain sight.

Jackie had seen enough movies with his daughter Nikki to realize the room must be hidden somewhere behind a wall. That was what rich people liked to do out of paranoia. If there were hidden halls like the gal at the Historical Society said then whoever owned the mansion wouldn’t have made it so easy for them to find.

It didn’t make what he was about to do any easier, his pang of regret causing him to hesitate as he looked at the handcrafted wood paneling and the pristine white walls. Whoever had owned this place had clearly taken good care of it, and he appreciated the craftsmanship as if it was his own.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to the ghosts watching. Then he raised his sledgehammer high in the air and slammed it into the wood. Over and over, rich Mahogany broke and splintered from his relentless pursuit. His only reassurance at destroying the place was it was going to be bulldozed anyway. No one would notice by the time construction for the mall took place.

Working his way down the hall he stopped now and again to pull out a handkerchief to blot at the sweat dripping down his weathered forehead. At least I have a month. I should be able to get through this place by then.

Halfway down the first hall measuring half a football field, Jackie found himself doing something he’d never done before. He prayed.

“God, if you’re real then let me find the secret room.” He brought the sledgehammer down again and again, leaving a massacred wall in his wake. Continuing as his arms grew heavier from the weight of the tool, he bartered, “If you let me find it, I’ll go to church. I’ll help the damn poor and ugly-whatever you want. Just let me-.”slam! “find the-” slam! “Damn treasure!”

The hammer flung downward with such force it pierced through the wood, breaking past the wood paneling, jamming.

“Damn it,” he huffed, sweat now dripping down his back and soaking his black t-shirt. Wiggling the wooden handle back and forth he dislodged the hammer, wincing. I hope that wasn’t a support beam I just went through-

"-Treasure...here."

“Whoa!” Jackie jumped back at the raspy whisper and held the hammer in front of him. “Who said that?” he demanded, jerking his body from side to side searching for the voice. “This is private property!” He looked around the hall wildly. Yet no one was there.

A scratching behind the wall made him nearly jump from his skin. The whisper repeated. “Treasure...here.”

His head whipped towards the wall. The sound had definitely come from there. He licked his dry lips and inched closer. “I’m losing my damn mind,” he muttered, trying to convince himself he was having a stroke and not hearing the haunted whisper of ghosts. He lifted his head to glance inside the eight inch jagged hole yet kept enough distance in case something jumped out at him, the hammer still raised. There was enough light streaming in from the early morning sun that he didn’t need to pull out his flashlight to glance inside.

Jackie’s mouth fell open. “Holy Hell...”

Gold glinted far against a wall. A lot of it. Jackie took a step forward and let the hammer slip from his calloused hands, his head shaking in disbelief. I can’t believe it...it’s real.

For once in his life something worked out. Jackie forgot the ghost that whispered to him and placed his head close to the hole, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of the stacked gold bars, trunks of what he prayed held money, red glowing eyes, paintings that were probably a pretty penny on the black market-

He froze. Red glowing eyes?

Jackie felt the rush of air too late. A skeletal hand flashed out of the hole and grabbed onto him, pinning him to the wall. “H-help me! Somebody-HELP!”

His heart beated a mile a minute as a raspy laugh echoed within the darkness of the room.

“You wanted treasure... but at what cost?”

Jackie didn’t miss the derision in the voice. Shit...shit! He scrambled to disconnect whatever had attached itself to him but jerked to a stop when something sharp pricked into his neck.

“Argh!” Jackie tried to push away from the wall but it held on tighter, the trickling of blood slipping down his neck. Then it shoved him back and he stumbled to the rug covered in splintered wood and dust, his stubby hand clamping over the place where he’d been cut.

The monster that attacked him showed its face through the hole, blood dripping from its cracked lips. "Not the treasure you were hoping to get?" Jackie’s heart hammered violently in his chest as it grabbed hold of the wood and tore it off like it was a piece of paper, breaking the wall down until he could squeeze through it, his long scraggly hair hiding his face like he was the girl from the Ring.

Jackie backed away and searched for his hammer. “Not today Satan!” he screamed. He grabbed the handle and prepared to hit it when he made eye contact, the monster commanding sharply, “drop it.”

It’s stupid if it thinks I’m gonna-huh? Jackie watched his hands unclench the rubber handle and it fell with a clunk to the ground in between his legs.

Jackie backed away in petrified horror. "Wh-what t-the h-hell a-are y-you?"

The monster revealed sharp fangs when it smiled. "I’m the owner of this estate...November Lamia."

Jackie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. November Lamia? But the papers said he’d died! If he died...then that could only mean one thing...

He pointed a trembling finger at it. “Y-y-our...a-a-a-a-....G-g-g-ghost!”

Damn it, he should have known a creepy large mansion would have Haunting of Hill House shit going on!

The monster’s red eyes gleamed. “Oh no...” it whispered and stumbled closer, Jackie shaking violently in fear. “I am much worse than that.”

Before Jackie had a chance to let the threat sink in, the monster lunged for him and pinned him down, a hand wrapping around his throat strangling the scream he emanated. "Now... if you'll excuse me,” said the monster, “it's been a very long time since I've had human blood, and the lack of it has made me weak. So, as bitter as you are, you'll have to do."

Jackie had no time to take in what it said as the monster overpowered him, its teeth sinking into his neck. He tried to push it off of him but it was useless.

All he could do was feel his blood leaving his body, the futile attempts at his hands shoving it back becoming weaker. He clamped his eyes shut. Please..someone help me!

For the second time that day, Jackie thought his prayers had been answered. Coming down the hall were two angels, their blue and purple hair shining in the sun streaming through the large windows.

Tears streamed down his face. Please, he reached out a hand, his consciousness failing. Help...

The one with purple hair looked at him in disgust. "Is that...Hatchet?” then, clicking his tongue he added, “what a shame...ow!" He shot the taller boy who whacked him upside the head with an incredulous look. “What? You can’t tell me you don’t think he’d be better off dead. Just look at him! He looks like Frankenstein and a corpse had a baby.”

Jackie’s hand reached out further for one of them to help him yet neither did.

Blood drained from his body faster and faster, his hand dropping to the dusty rug. A tear slipped down his cheek. Please...I don’t want to die here.

The images of the cabana and women draped all over him dissolved. The taller one took a step forward as his vision blurred at the edges. “Hatchet... you’re alive.”

The monster stiffened. To Jackie’s surprise it removed its fangs from his neck. Jackie’s consciousness faded as the monster slowly stood up and swayed while facing the two, wiping its blood stained mouth with the back of its emaciated hand and growling.

His demand following Jackie into the unconscious:

"Where's Evie?”

NINE

Evie jerked up in her bed and sucked in desperate breaths.

The nightmares. They were back.

She rubbed her forehead and wrapped an arm around her stomach clawed in apprehension.

It had been months since she’d last been haunted by him. By that night.She’d hoped they were finally over. But apparently she’d been wrong.

Evie sucked in gulps of cool central air and looked around her bedroom, finding it the same as she’d left it the night before: the top white dresser drawer next to the door was still opened halfway with a plain pale pink shirt hanging out of it. The picture hanging on the wall over the dresser showed 12-year-old her and her family smiling, all wearing matching black Mickey Mouse ear hats on their first trip to Disneyland. She was home. She was safe.

She covered her eyes with her olive skinned arm lightly dusted in freckles, and took in a steadying breath. Hatchet...why do you still haunt me?

Her eyes pricked as the fading images of the dream landed on Hatchet’s dead body lying in her arms, his head turning to look up at her with dull grey eyes, asking her over and over- “why, Evie?”

Her heart prickled. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to him. “It was all my fault.” She breathed in a painful gasp to stop the sudden burning in her chest. Crying wasn’t an option. Not when she shared her room with her sister and it would make both of them super uncomfortable by her emotional outburst. Remembering Terra, Evie scanned the twin bed on the other side of the room, surprised to find it empty, the dark grey comforter slumped to the floor. Distracted by her confusion of Terra missing, Evie sat up and lowered her arm, glancing at the alarm clock on her nightstand that showed it was only 8:06 am.

Alarm flitted through her until she heard her sister’s loud voice in the kitchen, clear and strong. “Coffee’s done!”

Evie frowned. Why is Terra making coffee? She hates it.

Carrie, Evie’s adopted mom answered Evie’s question. “Great. Now go wake up your sister.”

“On it.”

Evie jumped as she heard Terra padding her way from the kitchen to their bedroom and hastily laid back down, shutting her eyes just as the door to her room creaked open. She couldn’t let Terra know she’d woken up from another nightmare or she’d insist on her returning to the grief counselor. And since Evie was not an early riser there’d be no excuse except the truth.

After the raid it had taken Evie a long time to process what had happened. Between meeting and settling in with her new family, starting school, learning how to live among humans and not Nightrealm she’d only been able to deal with Hatchet’s death and the massacre through nightly visits to the bathroom to break down or through the nightmares.

After the third time she’d woke up screaming, Terra had told their mom and dad. Evie had expected them to punish her for being loud- the way she’d been during her time at the mansion- but no one in her family had hit her. Just expressed loving concern. Instead of being flung into a wall her new parents had her sit between them on the beige overstuffed couch, while Everest and Terra sat on the matching one perpendicular to her. And then they’d held a family meeting. Carrie and Ed had told Evie how grief counseling might be good for her, and that seeing such a traumatic event was a lot for her to go through alone. The traumatic event her new parents spoke of was the story given to them by the police: Evie had been living with her best friend after her family died when a home invasion took place. She had been the only one to survive it.

It wasn’t the truth by a long shot. Still, it was the story she chose to stick with since she’d had no idea how to explain Nightrealm to regular humans. And since she couldn’t tell the what had really happened she’d reluctantly agreed to go-

Not because they’d made her. Oh no. It was because they’d given her the choice. For the first time in her life she’d been allowed to decide something for herself. Not told. Not ordered. Not threatened-just encouraged. Supported.

The way a family should.

Evie should have been happy, except she’d felt nothing but the looming guilt hanging over her head. Lying to them and letting them believe the trauma she was haunted by was nothing but a home invasion and not the massacre of a powerful Nightrealm clan. Even when she’d agreed to go to counseling she’d still kept the truth to herself. Continued the lie. All the while she’d wished she’d had someone to confide in. To tell them about what had really happened.

Falling apart alone.

I wish I didn’t know about them either. How much easier would her life be without knowing about the Nightrealm’s existence? Without remembering any of it? Remembering Hatchet and how his death was from him trying to protect her?

She shivered just as the light in her room flicked on, the memory of his dead gaze frozen in her mind.

Terra's bare feet pushed into the baby blue carpet, the ghosts of Evie’s past slipping back into the shadows. Terra hovered over her. “Hey dummy, it’s time to wake up.”

Evie faked a yawn and tried to look disoriented, hoping all traces of her sadness were gone. “Huh?” She opened her already alert gaze and locked onto the light grey eyes of her sister. “What time is it?”

A taller, younger version of their mom Carrie, Terra was all soft curves and long limbs, her arms showing muscles when they crossed over her Pierce the Veil black t-shirt, her caramel skin highlighting her dark lips turning down at the corners. But it was the light grey eyes, the color of clouds before they withered into a rainstorm, that made her look fierce.

Those eyes were now narrowed at Evie, and she actually looked like she was unhappy. “If you must know it’s already noon. You missed enrollment and your chance to be in every single class with Steven because you don’t. Know. How. To. Wake. Up.”

Evie knew she was lying but couldn’t stop herself from feeling impressed by her act. Two can play at this game. Gasping, Evie’s hazel eyes widened and she sat up, playing the panicky oversleeper. She saw Terra smirk when Evie demanded, “what do you mean I missed enrollment?”

“Don’t worry,” Terra replied airily, waving a dismissive hand. “I picked your classes for you- and before you ask, yes, I made sure to enroll you in every single class without Steven.” she sighed and shook her head. “Now he’ll probably fall in love with rat-faced Alyssa, all because you couldn’t wake up on time.”

Despite Evie knowing it was a lie she felt the punch in her gut all the same.That was definitely something Terra would have done to her. “You’re lying,” she grumbled, and finally let her facade end by looking away from her sister’s non-apologetic expression to the alarm clock. “It’s only 8:10.” She flicked a withering glare at her sister who looked downright smug.

“Coffee’s ready,” Terra said in a sing-song voice, and sashayed from their room, her brown-black wavy hair brushing the back of her neck. She stopped at the door and gave Evie a warning look over her left shoulder. “If you even think about going back to sleep I’m going to get Everest to come and wake you up.”

Evie was still glaring at Terra about the Steven thing when her threat made her shudder. She hopped out of bed. “I’m up, I’m up!”

Terra grinned. “That’s what I thought.” She headed out and down the hall towards the kitchen. “Hey, Everest, you can dump the bucket. She got up.”

Evie groaned out loud and muttered under her breath. “Whoever thought having siblings was fun were idiots.” Hatchet would have agreed with her. His brothers had driven him insane, too.

No, don’t think about him anymore. He’s gone. She gave her head a swift shake when the apprehension attempted to cover her and then straightened, the nutty scent of coffee enticing her to go to the kitchen. Evie got two steps when her reflection in the body mirror hanging on the outside of the closet door stopped her.

Hatchet isn’t the only one who’s gone. The Evie that had existed at the Lamia mansion no longer existed. When Evie had come to the Carlans she’d been a chubby, scared little girl with frizzy loose cinnamon curls. But as Evie stared at herself now she saw someone entirely different, her long legs and soft, round face complemented by thick straight hair that fell past her shoulders made her look carefree. Happy.

She smiled and saw her reflection do the same.

“Nightmares or not... It’s going to be a good day.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Carrie raced back and forth around the kitchen.

Everest, Terra, and Evie watched her from the bar table as she went from the fridge to the sink and back. Twice.

Everest cleared his throat. “Hey mom...you good?”

Carrie clicked her tongue louder than the cream high heels she was wearing. “Of course I am.” Then brightly she asked, “why wouldn’t I be?”

The three at the table exchanged looks, sensing the danger just on the horizon. Without saying a word Evie and Terra touched the tips of their noses before Everest could even lift his large hand. His broad shoulders heaved a defeated sigh as Terra tapped him and mouthed “good game.”

he shot her a dark look before twisting in the black barstool and answered. “Because you look crazy right now.”

Terra and Evie looked everywhere else but Everest, the dead man walking. Carrie made a low sound in her throat that sounded in between a growl and a gasp when Ed walked in. “Well, look at this. Everyone is awake!” He walked up to his wife and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, having to bend for his 6 foot height to her 5’2”.

Everest returned just as brightly, “morning,” and hopped out of his chair. Evie watched him walk to Carrie and bend down to kiss the other cheek, who gave him one of her famous scowls. “Take it easy today, will you mom?” When they were next to each other Evie could see the strong resemblance between the two. Except where Terra had the same physique as her mom Everest had taken after his dad, tall and broad chested, and a square jaw that would put Tom Cruise to shame. She could understand why Didi, Evie’s best friend, had a major crush on him.

What Didi didn’t know was he always had a death wish. Simmering the anger of their mom Everest pressed his luck by straightening and patting the top of Carrie’s head, frowning. “If you don’t you’ll get more grey hairs...ow!”

He rubbed his arm as Carrie continued to play hit him. “What kind of son are you, huh?”

Ed chuckled. “An honest one-ah, ah honey I have the coffee pot!” he cried when she turned her wrath on him.

Terra interrupted them. “No seriously though. Why are you acting like a zombie apocalypse is about to happen?”

“The boss is coming to the office today,” explained Ed as Carrie’s mood darkened and she started muttering “Arthur”. Ed glanced at her when she slammed the cup cabinet and blocked his mouth to whisper loudly, “it stresses your mother out.”

“You stress me out,” Carrie retorted hotly. She rummaged to the back of the cabinet and lifted on her tiptoes, yelling, “who keeps putting the travel mugs on the highest shelf?”

Evie smiled behind her large black coffee mug. This was her life now. Family arguments about cups and grey hairs and talks about work. It all felt so...normal. So calm.

Carrie continued, her thick black hair swishing across her back like a metronome’s needle. “One of you will need to step up and make dinner tonight. Your father and I are not going to be home until late.”

Evie nodded before remembering- “if you’re working late, does that mean I can’t go to my doctor’s appointment today?”

Carrie stilled and looked over her shoulder, slapping a hand to her smooth forehead. “Oh honey...I completely forgot. Do you mind if we reschedule?”

Everest’s mouth fell open. “Why are you always nice to Evie and not me?”

“Because Evie isn’t irritating like you,” said Terra.

Ed snorted. “You were asking for that one, bud.”

Evie grinned and answered Carrie as Everest looked affronted. “That’s fine with me.”

Terra shuddered. “Why would you even remind her about it, you weirdo?” Evie saw her narrow shoulders twitch as she shook her head. “Why you volunteer to give blood I will never understand.”

“What’s wrong Terra?” taunted Everest. He came up behind her and clamped down on her shoulders, making her growl at him. “Afraid of a little needle?”

“No, I just don’t want anyone to take my blood.”

“But it’s for a good cause,” interjected Evie. Because it was.

Terra didn’t agree. “My blood belongs in my body. Nobody else’s.”

Tell that to the Nightrealm. Evie sipped her coffee mixed with six sugars and extra cream and remarked, “well, I don’t agree.”

Terra rolled her eyes at her as Carrie came over and kissed the sides of Evie and Terra’s heads, not tall enough even with the heels to reach the tops. “Alright, we’re off. Text me when you’re done with your enrollment, okay?”

“And stay together,” Ed added in his no-nonsense tone. He placed his mug down in the sink and grabbed the silver travel mug Carrie had filled for him. “There’s a possible serial killer on the loose and they’re attacking people that are alone, so travel in groups.”

A chill slipped down Evie’s spine. She’d seen the news and heard her parents talking about it, especially with how it was affecting their realtor business since people didn’t want to buy properties when there were rampant kidnappings happening. But it still scared her all the same as if she’d heard it for the first time.

When Ed and Carrie left, the quiet in the kitchen left a somber taste in Evie’s mouth. “I hope they find those girls and they’re okay...”

Everest sighed and removed his hands from Terra’s shoulders. “One can only hope.”

Evie gave him a grateful smile and finished her coffee. Then grabbed her stomach.

A feeling of dread tightening around her.

TEN

“Wow...you look much better already, brother.... the hipster zombie look really suits you.”

Hatchet winced at the loudness attacking his eardrums. Everything overwhelmed him, from the light to every clip of the scissors August had in his hands.

It had been so long since he’d been around either. Seven years if his brothers could be believed.

As relieved as he was they were alive and well he still narrowed his red-flinted gaze at September who was lounging in Hatchet’s black high-backed chair, his irritation burning through him at both his antagonizing and the fact his dirty sneakers were propped up on the couch. His couch. “I see you're still as charming as you were when we were kids.”

September flashed him a boyish grin, unbothered by the sarcastic remark. Hatchet was still trying to process the changes in September as he countered, “and still much more attractive than you will ever hope to be.”

Hatchet glared. There’s no doubt about it. That is definitely September.

August muttered behind him, cutting dead hair away from Hatchet’s scalp. “You think he was bad when we were young... just wait.”

This made Hatchet snort, “Fantastic.” Every time he spoke it caused an ache to run down his throat. Not the ache that came from thirst but like he’d screamed and screamed for hours and had lost his voice. That was what had happened to Hatchet when he’d come to in the pitch black room, lying on his stomach with nothing but the stored treasures his father had kept. He’d screamed for minutes. Hours. Days.

Yet no one had come for him. No one had heard. His bony hands trembled, so he gripped the arm rests of the office chair. How long was I in there after I woke up?

Tufts of scraggly greyish black hair fell onto the navy blue sweatpants and broke his thoughts. “Almost done,” said August, his voice much deeper than when Hatchet had last spoken to him. His hand swept through Hatchet’s scalp with gentle fingers, and it unnerved him. Their relationship had been anything but affectionate, thanks to their father, and after their last conversation before the raid they hadn’t left on good terms. But there August was, carefully cutting his hair as if he was Hatchet’s mother. Treating him like a child. Like he was fragile.

It angered him.

He slapped August’s hands away, growling. “Are you done yet?”

September pouted. “Aw, brother, he doesn’t like your haircut. Perhaps you should bring the scissors down just a little lower....” he fell off and ran a finger across his neck, making a sound like he was dying.

The gesture sparked the reminder of coming so close to death that he tried to lunge at September, stopped by August sensing the attack and holding him back. September lifted his boyish face and laughed in delight, wrapping his arms draped in a black baggy sweater that fell around his lean waist.

“I forgot how amusing you are, brother! And here I thought having you back would be such a bore.”

“September,” warned August. “Please leave him alone.”

Hatchet shook all over. “I’ll show you death-” and how lonely it is. He gave a violent shrug of his shoulder, but couldn’t budge August’s hand. Gritting his teeth he felt the plastic arms of the chair slowly strain and crack under his pressure. But they didn’t break.

He’d become too weak. So weak August had to defend him against September. “Move your hand from my body before I tear it off.” He wasn’t sure if he could actually do it in his condition, nor was he sure he would even if he could.

But it had the desired effect. August sighed, and muttered, “Sorry.” Hatchet felt his shoulder freed, a small breath escaping him. He sat still when August returned to cutting his hair, chuckling quietly. “I never thought I’d be so happy to hear you threaten me again.”

The anger encasing Hatchet eased at the sentiment. August continued, his fingers shaking out the cut strands still stuck in his hair. “Maybe with you around this moron will finally learn some manners.”

Hatchet rolled his eyes. “September is and has always been a lost cause. We’d do better to rid of him and find someone more appropriate to be a Lamia-”

Hatchet was startled into silence when a flashing light blinded him, making him nearly jump from his chair. “What the hell was that?”

Through the black spots dancing over his eyes he saw September hold up a square device, another flash attacking him.

August yelled. “For God’s sake, turn off the flash!”

“But then I won’t capture the full walking dead look our brother is going for,” said September with a smirk. Then he brought the device back to his face. “What should I caption it? Dead man walking? Or Return of the cringe?”

This time August didn’t stop Hatchet from lunging at September. Nor did he stop him from ripping the device out of September’s grip and squeezing it in his hand until it shattered, shards of glass and plastic raining down on a stunned September.

Hatchet sneered. “Try captioning it now, you little bastard.”

September’s features hardened. “Careful brother, you seem a little weaker than the last time we met. It would be a shame if I accidentally hurt you while you’re in this condition.”

“Are you threatening me?” Asked Hatchet in a low growl.

“I think you’ll learn soon enough that I don’t do threats, brother.”

“Enough!” August pulled Hatchet back and held up a hand in warning to September who looked like he was about to attack whose eyes were a sheen of malice. “I get it, everyone is trying to deal with this shit in their own way--but this isn’t helping at all.”

Deal? “What the hell do you have to deal with?” Hatchet turned his head and looked at August. “You weren’t the one who was stabbed in the back and left for dead-you weren’t locked in a goddamn tiny room where you woke up and had no idea what year it was, how long you’d been there, too weak to break through the walls and save yourself-” stripped of all your dignity as a Lamia. Yet Hatchet kept that painful truth to himself.

His chest heaved against his protruding ribcage. Aching in a way that was not just from hunger.

The room hushed at his outburst and a part of him feared they would leave him for it. Then August shook his head and wore a pained expression. “You’re right...we don’t know what that’s like. And we won’t try to pretend we had it worse-but we did lose everyone... including you. We thought you were dead, Hatchet...This hasn’t been easy for us, either,” he finished, looking tired.

A part of Hatchet wanted tocave and accept this had been rough on both ends. September ruined that with one sentence.

“Speak for yourself. I got over his death right after that half-ass funeral we had for him.”

September’s words stung. But Hatchet wasn’t about to show all of his cards like he did the last time. He shook his head and backed away from his brothers.

“Speaking of the bloodbath that became our home,” drawled Hatchet, wanting to stray away from vulnerability and feelings. “How did you two get out?”

Hatchet saw September look disappointed and felt a moment of victory at not adding fuel to his fire. August was the one who answered, his hand resting on the top of Hatchet’s high backed chair. “September and I had been together in my room when we heard the gunshots go off. We headed to the safe room and locked ourselves in. We thought others would join, “he said with a somber look, “but it was just us two. When the footsteps and noise stopped altogether I opened up the door and looked around...” he let his voice drift away, leaving the rest to interpretation.

Hatchet felt a prick of sympathy for him. “You're the one who found all the bodies.”

August grimaced with a curt nod. “After we didn’t find you we thought the GARD took you into custody along with your companion, but no one had any records of you anywhere. You just...vanished.”

So, he has no idea what the hell actually happened. Taking the authoritative role he used to be in he lifted his head and demanded, “did the records you searched for have any information on why we were attacked?”

September pouted. “Yup. And you’ll never know the truth because you broke my phone where all the files were on it.”

August rolled his eyes. “You brought that on yourself. You shouldn’t have antagonized him.”

This is strange...August never paired up with me before to gang up on September. It was always the other way around...and he was the one who’d had to defend himself against the two. Shaking off the warmth trickling to his nearly unbeating heart, he got back to business. “What did the records say?”

“There really wasn’t much,” sighed August, looking like he’d already said the same thing about a dozen times. “It just said they got word about the unethical methods Father was employing with the humans who contracted with us and they decided to eradicate the demon problem.”

By “unethical” he meant the humans being cleansed after their contracts ended. The reason he’d stepped in and saved Evie from the same fate.

How stupid that decision had been.

“Now, it wasn’t all a waste of time,” remarked September. He’d been quietly sulking but now his lips quirked up and revealed the dimple on the side of his face. “Turns out your little piggy came to us after the eradication from the Rose clan. Care to know why they were being wiped out?” added September with a conspiratorial smile. Hatchet quirked a thin black brow at him as he finished with “they were trying to create an army of zombie-like human vampires. Hey...you’d be perfect for that right now!”

Hatchet ignored the obvious bait to rile him up. “I don’t care about the Rose clan-” and I already knew she came from there. Jain had come clean after Hatchet had saved Evie from August when he’d been about to break her wrist in the courtyard. He’d confided that Hatchet's father had planned to cleanse her. Keeping the conversation away from that he returned to the Rose clan, adding, “besides, they’re all dead now.”

A good thing, too. He and his brothers wouldn’t have stood a chance if anyone from the Rose clan was still alive.

He took a couple of slow steps towards the large square window. His memory attacked him with images of a short, chubby girl sitting on the window seat, puffing her cheeks at him as he’d teased her.

He scowled, catching his reflection in the early afternoon sun, the glow shyly pressing through the dusty glass showing all the changes his body went through at being locked up in darkness for several years. The sensitivity to the light had faded some due to his quick healing abilities and the blood he’d consumed earlier, but his eyes still teared up from it.

Zombie, he discovered, was an apt description of how he now looked. His angular face was jagged and sharp, gaunt from the lack of blood and fresh air of several years, his nose and cheekbones jutting out on his face. He’d always been pale yet now his skin resembled the color of ashes, which meshed unpleasantly with the matte grey-black hair.

That wasn’t what bothered him the most about his new appearance. It was his eyes. Once filled with certainty and calm his gaze now looked vacant as it stared back at him. Lost. All because of her. Hatchet's jaw clenched as he turned away from the ghost in the mirror. And focused on what mattered now. “What happened to the humans after the raid?”

“As far as I know they were taken into custody and let go.”

Clenching his fists by his sides he forced himself to ask, “what about Evie?”

August paused. “I don’t know what happened to her.”

Slowly turning he faced his brothers. Resolute. “I need to find her.”

September laughed while Hatchet caught August running a hand through his dark blue hair, looking like he was about to lose his patience. “Ah, but of course you do,” said September in amusement. “She’s all you ever cared about after all.”

Hatchet focused on August so he wouldn’t attack September. August briefly shut his eyes before speaking. “Hatchet, we have more important issues to deal with than you reuniting with your old companion-”

“What issues?” interrupted Hatchet sharply. August stared at him like he was crazy. It made Hatchet want to laugh, a feeling he wasn’t used to. Taking the lapse in a response, Hatchet sat down in the office chair and stared at his brothers as authoritatively as he could, leaning back in the swivel chair and crossing one leg over the other. August and September exchanged looks as he continued, “whatever you think might be important I don’t care. My only priority is finding her and nothing more.” He glanced next to him where a side table resided and picked up the pair of scissors August had been using. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to finish my haircut.”

August tensed. “We haven’t been able to find her since she left. Don’t you think we tried? She was with you when the raid took place, right? That was the first place we looked to see if it would bring us to you.” When Hatchet just stared at him, unblinking, August added in a placating tone. “Now that we have you there is no need to look for her. We can find you a new companion...or companions... whatever you want. People are into the vampire thing now so I’m sure it will be easier than it used to be for us...”

Hatchet wanted to rip off the arm of his chair. Instead, he took a deep breath and continued on with a calm air, a feat he was surprised he could do. “I think you misunderstand me, brother... I don’t want to find Evie and return her as my companion.”

“What do you mean you don’t want her as your companion?”

September leaned forward and eyed him curiously. “If you don’t want her as your companion...then what do you want her for?”

Hatchet lifted the scissors and watched the strands of light catch on the silver blades.

The only thing I’ve wanted to do since I woke up in that room. Since she betrayed me.

He smiled. “I want to kill her.”

ELEVEN

The office was in absolute chaos.

Carrie and Ed walked into the old Federal building located at the end of Main Street and strode down the tiled hall towards the sleek elevator as agents hurried out of their way. Carrie glanced around her in irritation. So they’ve already heard the news.

A middle-aged man was in the elevator but hastily stepped out when they entered. Carrie clicked her tongue. “Cowards.”

“No,” remarked Ed slowly while pushing the 14th floor button. “They’re smart.” She scowled up at him and met his amused cerulean blue gaze. “They know when you’re on a warpath.”

“Should I be walking in and smiling?” she asked darkly.

Ed gave a thoughtful frown. “No. But it wouldn’t hurt you to remember they’re not the ones responsible.”

He was speaking about the missing girls. The girls they should have saved. The elevator went up and Carrie didn’t say a word to him until the doors opened. “We’re all responsible-” and there was so much regret in her voice Ed didn’t argue with her.

If the main floor was sheer chaos their small office space was a war zone. Papers and files were strewn everywhere, the agents running back and forth preparing for battle. Carrie and Ed made their way down the aisle and every agent stepped out of their way. The tension was palpable, and it brushed over Carrie like a humid day in Tennessee. Each agent bore the signature uniform- olive green button up shirts and black pants- making Carrie stand out like a blood that was hungry, her cream dress and matching heels drawing the attention of every agent as she passed. Ed still wore the uniform, believing he should always look the part in case they had to hit the field, but Carrie had shed the ugly color as soon as she’d been promoted to Captain. She’d done her time.

They passed by an office to their left and Carrie saw out of the corner of her eye a rectangular white board with two columns written in blue Expo marker:

Missing. Found.

Five girls, thought Carrie. All still missing.

Carrie’s chest burned as Nicole came around her desk stationed in front of their office and walked beside her, her black loafers keeping pace with Carrie’s quick strides. “Updates, Nicole.”

Nicole, a 24-year-old woman with slick black curls and a pretty face with deep set dark brown eyes frowned plum colored lips. “Agent Travis confirmed it.” Carrie eyed her impatiently as she added quietly, “she’s also one of ours.”

Carrie gave a curt nod and said nothing. All of the missing girls were recruits in training. This isn’t a random set of kidnappings from some new serial killer. It’s an attack against us.

But by who? And why? Carrie and Ed’s division had wiped out all the bloods. The ones who’d managed to escape during their exterminations had left the region to find a new clan to belong to. It had been quiet for years. So why now?

An image of Terra and Evie slipped into her mind and it made her suck in a sharp breath. “Has the family been notified?”

“The police already broke the news, ma’am.”

Carrie’s heart thumped in empathy for them. It was every parent’s worst nightmare come true.

A balding lanky agent made the mistake of catching Carrie’s gaze and she directed all of her anger and fear at him. “Don’t just stand there and gawk at me. Get me every name of every agent and recruit we have now!”

“Honey... remember to take deep breaths,” muttered Ed. To the man she’d just yelled at- Agent Samson as his uniform showed- he added, “please.”

“O-on it.”

The agent ran down the aisle. Carrie shot Ed a withering glare but he stared straight ahead at the elevator’s doors. Instead, he asked Nicole in that same calm tone he always had. “When is Arthur going to be here?”

Nicole cleared her throat nervously and took a slight step out of Carrie’s reach. “Um...I’m afraid he’s already here, sir.” She avoided eye contact and pointed to the office at the back wall with large square walls to where they could all see the figure of a man standing inside.

Carrie came to a stop and gripped her thermos. “Thanks for the heads up,” she snapped at Nicole.

“H-he just got here, ma’am,” she explained in a rush. Then she gasped, “is...is that my phone I hear ringing?” Before Carrie could continue yelling at her she darted towards her desk and picked up the phone that Carrie was almost positive did not ring.

Ed tried to rub her back but she shrugged him off. “I’m calm,” she growled. He gave her a look that said-give me a break- when she set her shoulders back and directed her attention to the office. “Let’s get this over with already-” and stormed towards the office.

Leaving her husband to follow after her.

Arthur stood with his hands clasped behind his back and was reading the article about the Lamia's demise when Carrie entered her and Ed’s office.

Arthur was the head of the GARD -Government Agency in the Removal of Demons-in their region. Carrie was supposed to have taken the position as she had been the best candidate for it, but she would have had to uproot her entire family and move to the San Diego area. After making Jewel Beach City a safe and peaceful place to live she’d declined. And in turn he’d gotten it. She’d thought his deep resentment towards her would have lightened after he’d become her boss, but she’d been wrong.

Now he used his power of authority to make her life a living hell. All. Of. The. Time.

And now with the recent attacks she had a feeling he was going to bury her.

She crossed her arms over her full chest and drawled, “Arthur. So nice of you to come by.”

He responded with a soft chuckle. “Lying is so unbecoming of you, Carrie.”

She snorted. At least they were on the same page about how she felt about him being there. Although she had to admit she did make it obvious.

Ed stepped in, all pretenses in place. “Ah, Arthur, it’s nice to see you again. How are things at headquarters?”

Carrie muttered under her breath. “Suck up.”

Arthur turned around as Ed shut the office door and hit the button next to it to close the automatic blinds. Arthur wore the same shirt as Ed and the other agents, accented by a silver striped suit. His hair was cut close to the nape of his neck, his face hidden by a silver painted mask the same color as his hair.

Carrie had never seen Arthur without the mask. And as far as the higher ups went no one dared to ask him to remove it. He apparently wore it to cover up terrible damage inflicted after a raid he’d been a part of went wrong. But Carrie liked to believe he just wore it for show. Because everything Arthur did was an act. Like his pleasant attitude now.

“Same as always,” Arthur answered Ed in a jovial tone. “Busy, busy, busy.”

Ed smiled and revealed laugh lines. “And you had to come here despite all the work I’m sure you’re dealing with.”

Arthur chuckled again and walked slowly towards the large black desk in the middle of the room, Carrie’s eyes never leaving him. He didn’t notice, his hand dropping to the stack of files. “Yes, well,” he sighed, “this felt more imperative than the bureaucratic formalities.” He lifted one of the files and changed the subject. “Are there any leads yet?”

Despite Arthur being an inch shorter than Ed his presence towered over Carrie. She straightened her spine and lifted her head, ready to match the intimidation he exuded. “None yet. We are drawing up a list of all recruits and their officers.”

Arthur hummed. “So you also believe this to not be random.” He opened a file and sounded impressed as he added, “You always were quick to see past the obvious.”

He speaks as if we’ve worked together in the past... Although all agents went through the same training facility Carrie had no recollection of ever meeting or working with Arthur before they’d both been promoted to captain. She brushed off the embarrassment at having no recollection and chalked it up to not being able to see his face, remarking cooly, “I didn’t get to where I am because I am clueless.”

“Indeed.” If he sensed her defensiveness he chose to ignore it. He focused his attention on placing down the file in his hand and picking up another one, thumbing through it, his long fingers just as graceful as the rest of him. “Then tell me: since you seem to know so much, who is responsible for these murders?”

Carrie prickled at his obvious condescension. Self-righteous prick. There was the Arthur she hated. Always acting like he was somehow above her even though she could have his job with a snap of her fingers if she wished it. “If I knew that, Arthur, I would already have them in custody,” she said, matching his tone. “Or are you insinuating I don’t know how to do my job?”

Arthur chuckled again as Ed interrupted the brewing war. “We have our CSI and all agents working around the clock to figure it out. We should have more information soon. Then we can start narrowing down who might be responsible.”

Carrie glowered at her husband. Ed responded by giving her a warning look.

Play nice, it said.

Carrie tsked at him. He started it.

Arthur closed the file and stood to his full height. “Very good. In the meantime, why don’t we go visit the site where the last girl was taken and see if anything was left behind?”

Carrie muttered. “Oh, you plan on staying longer? How nice.”

Ed cleared his throat. “It is very nice,” he said too brightly. “Having the head of our region here on a job with us-”

The office door flew open. All three turned their heads to meet the wild look on Nicole’s face.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” she exclaimed, a phone clutched in her hand. “But a recruit turned up.”

Ed jumped to action first. “Where?”

“Is she okay?” Carrie demanded.

Nicole flicked a furtive look from Ed to Carrie. She shook her head. “Her body was found under the pier.”

The room was hushed by the news. Arthur spoke first. “We better get to it then,” he said in a clipped tone. Carrie pressed her trimmed nails into her palms as Nicole opened her mouth to speak, cutting her off. “Get Travis and tell him to meet us in the lobby.”

“But ma’am-”

“What?” yelled Carrie. Nicole looked terrified as she ordered, “spit it out, Nicole.”

The color drained from Nicole’s face, her hand reaching towards her with the phone. “The murderer...” she said, her voice trembling. “He’s on the phone.”

“What?”

Nicole swallowed. “He...asked to speak to you.”

Carrie grabbed the phone out of Nicole’s outstretched hand before Arthur or Ed could think about it. Giving a curt nod to Nicole, she saw the phone was lit up with someone waiting on the other end. Careful to hit the speaker button, she demanded in a threatening voice. “Who the hell is this?”

For a second no one answered. Then, a deep male laugh echoed. “I’m surprised by you, Mrs. Carlan. After everything I’ve heard I thought for certain you -the great captain- would already know that answer.”

She sucked in a hiss through her teeth as the room fell deathly quiet. “How do you know my name?”

The caller laughed. “I know everything about you, Mrs. Carlan. Unlike you, I do my research before attacking first.”

Carrie’s stomach clenched as Arthur whispered behind her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She wasn’t sure herself. Instead, she worked at searching her memory. The voice was not familiar, yet there was something about it that pressed at her subconscious, warning her of its danger. That she’d been near it before.

Ed leaned forward to yell into the phone. “You have some nerve calling and acting like this is some game.”

“Oh. . . but it is a game. You see, I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment. Years, in fact.” The caller sighed and it made him sound disappointed. “If you don’t know who I am you must not have received the little gift I left you today. . . I guess I’ll call back once you have.”

“Wait,” cried Ed. “Where are the other girls?”

“Why are you attacking them?” added Arthur, his voice cold. Carrie hated that she hadn’t been the one to ask such important questions, but her mind was still too focused on the voice. She knew she’d heard it before...but where?

He laughed in delight, and it sent chills down her arms. “I can’t ruin the little treasure hunt I set up for you. I already gave you the first hint. It would be cheating if I tell you the rest.”

This finally brought Carrie back to attention, her voice a low growl as she told him. “you sick piece of shit.” her hand clenched the phone and she brought it close to her mouth, emphasizing. “When I find you I’m going to make you die a slow and horrible death.”

This amused him. “Now, now,” he admonished. “You have to save that energy to find your missing recruits. Let’s see how smart you really are, Mrs. Carlan.” Then, as if relishing the power he held he finished with, “let’s see if you can find me before I find you.”

A loud click signaled he’d hung up. Carrie, Ed, and Arthur looked at each other, saying nothing.

The threat of the supposed killer hanging over their heads.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

“I think that went very well.”

Jeremiah slowly placed down the phone receiver and felt the corners of his mouth lift. He steepled his hands and rested his pointed chin on top of his nimble fingers, his silver gold cat-like gaze sweeping across the room to his brother sitting on a lush, white couch. “What do you think, Drago?”

Drago tilted his head, his bronze wavy hair brushing against his olive skin and teasing the collar of his cream silk button-up long-sleeved shirt. His golden eyes glittered in amusement. “I think you rattled them.”

“Good.” Rattling was a start. For now. “Have the rejects been placed at the designated locations?”

Drago nodded. “Exactly where you wanted them.”

Jeremiah smiled fondly at his 19-year-old brother. “Lovely. Everything should work the way we’ve planned it then.” Jeremiah had waited eight long years to see this day come to fruition. Granted, he’d imagined an entirely different attack originally, before he learned the humans weren’t turning, rejecting their blood. But Jeremiah had inherited his father’s tenacity, and he was not to be easily defeated. After the GARD took everything from him and his family... he planned to repay their kindness in full.

Finding the missing girls will be the least of their worries once I’m through with them. A smile graced his lips as he imagined the captains scrambling to the pier, finding the picture inside her coat for the next clue. The treasure hunt idea he’d stolen from Mila, who had loved to torment their half-blood sibling by making them search for their beloved teddy bear, only to find it at the end in pieces.

How he missed her. How her cunning always surpassed his own.

Don’t worry, sister...I’ll find you soon. But first he had to focus on the next part of the plan and remain patient. “I do believe the captains are too busy to alert their recruits today. Shall we find out if I’m correct?”

Drago grinned, and stretched out his lean arm on the back of the couch, the man next to him trembling. “Perhaps enough time has passed to find out.” Picking up the tablet resting on his pewter grey slacks, he handed it over to the petrified man and commanded sharply. “do it now.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears, his square frames slipping down his stout nose and resting on his large cheeks. Wordlessly he took the tablet and brought it to his face, his hands shaking as his fingers pressed in what Jeremiah knew to need a ten-digit code to reveal an intricate database glowing blue on the 13-inch screen.

Jeremiah knew he was now tapping open the Team Blue tab and typing in a new location: Warehouse.

Once he’d hit “accept” and entered his code again, Drago took the tablet from his hands. “Thank you.” He lifted himself languidly from the couch like a cat waking from its nap, and brought the tablet to Jeremiah, sliding it across the desk until it was in front of him. Jeremiah lowered his hands to retrieve it, the sleeves of his ice blue silk blazer brushing the polished cherry wood. He frowned, just as Drago inquired with an amused laugh, “do you need assistance, brother?”

Jeremiah shook his head. Although he was only 23-years-old, he still struggled to use technology to its full capacity. Drago must have sensed his stubborn pride, leaning forward and clicking a tab Jeremiah hadn’t seen, revealing the rapidly changing orders of agents. His mouth lifted in a smirk when he saw it was confirmed. “Well, well...it looks like we are in the clear.”

Drago mimicked Jeremiah’s expression, his golden eyes molten. “I guess it’s time to get to work then.”

Jeremiah knew the look his brother wore well. Smiling, he reminded him, “And since the dear captains will be too busy searching for the bodies...you’ll have all the time you need.” Clicking on the name of the first recruit from team blue listed he handed the tablet over to Drago who glanced down at the blown up image on the screen.

Drago hummed in appreciation. “I have a feeling I won’t need much time.”

“You never do,” murmured Jeremiah. “Still, I do believe it is best for you to get there and begin working as soon as possible. You never know when human error might mess everything up.”

“Hm...good point.” Drago looked up from the screen and locked eyes with Jeremiah. He whistled, loud and sharp, and Jeremiah winced from it. Three young men appeared in the doorway. Their leader, a buzzed head thug wearing baggy jeans and a plaid shirt, scowled. “You rang?”

“It’s time,” Drago informed them, turning slowly to face the hired help. The three bristled in excitement until Drago warned, “if you mess this up I will ensure you never see the light of day again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled the leader, his widely spaced blue eyes rolling. “Find the box and get out.” He rubbed his thin goatee and smirked, his teeth yellow. “But let’s say we have to kill one of them-”

“No one dies,” remarked Jeremiah, his stare threatening. Each pawn was important for this plan to succeed.

The three lost their excitement and lowered their heads in a sign of respect, all saying at once, “Yes, my prince.”

Drago looked contemplative. “Maybe you should feed before we leave.” he tilted his head towards the couch, and the crying man’s heart thumped in violent waves. “I was going to feed him to our friends downstairs but now I think this will do.”

The three turned and grinned, their eyes flashing red.

Jeremiah leaned back in his leather chair and watched with an indifferent smirk. “Make them do it outside. I don’t want any stains on our couch. It’s antique, after all.”

The man opened his mouth to beg but no sound came out as the three flashed to him and grabbed him.

Jeremiah didn’t give the GARD trainer another glance while he was dragged out of his office, the sound of his heartbeat echoing down the long corridor of their estate.

Within seconds the sound of the heartbeat slowed. Until there was no sound at all.

Satisfied, Drago winked at Jeremiah. “Well, I am off to work.” He placed the tablet down and put his hands in his pockets, sauntering from the room. “Wish me luck.”

“I don’t think it’s you who needs it,” remarked Jeremiah wryly.

Drago laughed. “As always, brother, you are right.” Jeremiah gave a silent chuckle as Drago flashed, leaving him in silence. Now alone in his home Jeremiah sighed, rubbing the back of his neck from tension. The image still on the screen caught his eye, and he slid it over the desk until it was in front of him.

The girl was beautiful, with dark caramel skin and light grey eyes that showed her fierceness. Her bravery.

How quickly Drago would change all of that. And break her the same way he did all the others.

Jeremiah smiled. Then returned to his work. Eight years was a long time to wait for vengeance. But Jeremiah was a patient man. And soon, he’d have both of his enemies at his mercy.

The deed to his newest property was sweeter than any terror stamped on the Carlans’ faces, the black rose signia everything his late father hated. And everything Jeremiah planned to destroy.

He lifted it up and chuckled. “It’s all falling into place.”

One by one. His enemies would be his.

Begging for mercy.

Begging for death.

TWELVE

“Here we are.... work sweet work.”

Everest pulled up next to Evie’s job and put his hunk of junk car into park, the shift sticking before sliding into place. Terra gave him a look and she caught Evie shaking her head in the rearview side mirror.

“What?” asked Everest, glancing from Terra to Evie. “It’s funny because Evie works in a froyo place so it’s sweet...and work...”

Terra inwardly cringed for her brother. God, Everest...could you be any more obvious? The entire morning during enrollment she’d had to watch him fumble, again and again. Asking Evie to take a class with him. Directing her away from the same tables as Steven so she couldn’t talk to him.

For someone who looked confident in his masculinity people would think he’d have his crap together. Especially when talking to a girl he likes.

But Terra was the only one who saw past his 5’11” height, broad shoulders, and stark grey eyes that put Vin Diesel to shame. She knew his looks were deceiving. He might look like a younger version of their dad but that was where the similarities ended.

Which was why when Evie placed a hand on his shoulder he couldn’t look her in the eyes, his ears turning beet red. After Terra had heard the stories of how their parents met, and how her dad’s reserved manner and confidence had pursued their mom without any doubt or reservations even after she’d already fallen in love with him, Terra could say with certainty Everest didn’t inherit any of that.

In all honesty, she wasn’t sure where he’d come from. Because he was too soft to be from their family.

Terra sighed. I wish he would quit now like he did the GARD.

Terra recalled how Everest had broken the news to her at the beginning of summer. His sweet manner and nervous fumbling had made her nearly lose her patience with him and yell- spit it out!- when he’d finally told her he’d decided to quit the GARD because it was too much for him.

Terra hadn’t been in the least bit surprised. Everest had always been a tender soul. Crying when their parents would tell them bedtime stories about the vampire raids. Hiding under the blanket when the story got to the gruesome ends.

Even now Everest looked a bit weepy, especially when Evie patted him on the shoulders and consoled, “one day, Everest, someone will appreciate your corny jokes. I just know it.” She tapped him again in sympathy-or pity- and then popped open the backseat’s car door.

Everest sagged in defeat and Terra inwardly groaned. These two make me work way too hard... Breaking Everest’s black cloud she snorted. “No one will ever appreciate them because they’re not funny.”

His eyes shot open and he gave her a side look. “That’s what someone who doesn’t have a sense of humor would say.”

Terra countered. “That’s what people who aren’t funny say to other people.”

“Why do you always have to have the last word?”

“Because I’m smarter than you, clearly,” she said with a smirk, running her hands through her short brown-black hair. There. That should be enough damage control for now.

Evie interrupted them and ducked her head back into the backseat. “Please don’t kill each other while I’m at work.”

Terra shrugged. “I make no promises.”

She stepped out and shut the rusty car door. Everest leaned over Terra’s seat and yelled out her window. “I’ll see you at 3! And it will just be me!” Evie didn’t turn around as she walked into her job, Terra muttering under her breath. “You’re such an idiot.”

Everest lowered his head to his steering wheel, hitting it twice on the tearing rubber. “God, why did it have to rhyme?”

Terra patted the top of his shaved head. “There, there.” Everest gave her a pained look. But Terra wasn’t about to have a twenty minute car-ride to her assigned station listening to Everest’s crisis of being in love with their adopted sister again. The last one almost made her jump out of the vehicle while they were on the freeway. “We should get going. You know how Nero hates lateness-”

Everest interrupted, “was it just me or does Evie seem...off today?”

Terra considered his question for a moment and stopped herself from yelling at him for cutting her off. Now that he mentioned it she had looked lost in thought during most of the enrollment. Even when Steven bumped into her and gave her a dimpled smile it had taken her a couple of seconds before she’d realized it was him, just staring until he’d walked away.

Of course Everest would have noticed. But that wasn’t what surprised her. It was that she hadn’t.“Maybe a little...but not enough to be concerning.” she tilted her head and saw him staring out the windshield, biting his lower lip. “Why? What are you thinking?”

He swallowed and carefully looked towards the froyo shop. “What if...what if she knows?”

“Knows what?”

“You know...about us.”

Terra rolled her eyes. “How, Everest? How would she know, hm?” They’d kept their secret hidden for over seven years. Evie had no idea about their family’s actual profession or their parents’ involvement in the massacre that had freed her from the blood scum using her like cattle.

Everest opened his mouth to explain when she held up a hand. “Maybe she’s worried about classes. Or the kidnappings. Or Steven. Or she’s tired,” she said as he shook his head at her. Terra didn’t care if he agreed with her or not. She knew Evie. And if Evie did know the truth she wouldn’t just be lost in her thoughts. She’d be angry. Heartbroken. Betrayed.

She tried to shake off the guilt as Everest exhaled a defeated sigh. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I usually am.” she smiled at him and expected his retaliation, except he still wore a troubled look. “Now what?”

He put his car’s blinker on and pulled away from the sidewalk. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go to work? You got mom’s text... whoever is kidnapping these girls are after the recruits.”

Terra brushed off the nervous flutter in her stomach by clicking her tongue. “Keyword: recruits. I’m an agent now, idiot. Bloods would be stupid to come after me.”

Terra had completed the two-day required assessments to prove her capability of not only facing and defeating a blood, but out-maneuvering its hold on her. Followed with tests of her endurance and ability to stay calm in the face of danger. Out of 10 recruits only she, Nero, and Mark had passed. She’d been the youngest at 16-years-old to get promoted. A feat only her mom and dad had done over 20 years ago.

A text came from Nero and Evie simultaneously. Dismissing her team’s leader’s message she clicked on Evie’s.

Dustin is here....whyyyyyyyyy

Terra snorted. “Evie just texted and said Dustin the Dick is working.”

“Poor Evie,” muttered Everest.

She looked over and saw his ears darkening. “You need to get a grip, boy.” He glanced over as she shook her head. “You’ve got it so bad you can’t even say her name anymore.”

“T-that’s not true-”

Terra snorted. “Liar.” She saw from the corner of her ear him touch his ear while whispering, “Evie...Evie...Evie- damnit.”

This is going to be a long drive... she sighed, and busied herself with Nero’s text. “Huh, that’s weird...” she frowned in confusion. “Looks like my team’s been reassigned today.”

Everest stopped his attempt to prove Terra wrong by asking, “to where?”

“Hold on...Nero is sending the new coordinates -you’ve got to be kidding me!”

Her cry of indignation startled Everest and he swerved the steering wheel to the left, earning him a honk from a black BMW driving on the opposite side of the road. He waved an apology and then shot her a dirty look. “If you’re trying to get us killed you’re succeeding.”

His reproach slipped off of her like water in a shower. “They’re sending me to the warehouse.” She bumped her head into the back of the seat and groaned as loud as she could. “What the actual hell? This is crap!”

She punched the door as Everest’s anger dropped to sympathy. “Dang, that’s a hit.” Then curiously he asked, “who did you piss off this time?”

“Good question,” she snapped. Angry fingers typed back to Nero-

WTF.

She only had to wait a moment before he sent a shrugging emoji. Everest interrupted her murderous intentions by suggesting, “why don’t you call mom and see if she can reassign you?”

“Mom is a little busy today, remember?” With Arthur, the head of the Region visiting, and the dead recruit that she’d gotten the text about being found she doubted her mom would care much about Terra patrolling the warehouse-a recruit’s assignment. The slap of it hurt worse than the realization she was going to be bored out of her mind for three hours. “Just drive,” she growled, crossing her arms and slumping in her seat.

Everest muttered under his breath. “It’s not my fault you got sent there.”

Terra didn’t care. She needed to be mad at someone.

When I find out who sent me back there I’m going to rip them a new one.

And she held onto this determination.

Not knowing she would face the one responsible soon enough.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

August flicked on the light switch on the wall and scanned his old room. The room he’d believed he’d never step foot in again. Every inch of it was covered in a thick layer of grey dust, which kicked up as he walked through the room and went to his bed, sinking onto the edge of the white down comforter. He coughed but didn’t pay any attention to it as he was still too dazed with everything he’d just heard. Like cotton balls were pushed inside his head and made his thoughts fuzzy. “What the actual hell?”

He needed a drink. A strong one. Without the ice and garnishes. Whatever would erase feeling like he’d gone through war and barely survived. Like repeating the massacre, all over again.

August rubbed his face with his hands. Damn, this is overwhelming. He wanted to give into the urge to let out the grief, rage, despair, and joy from the day he’d had. Wanted to crumple up beside his bed and scream and laugh as if it would undo the pressure locked up inside of his chest. But he refrained.

He had to keep it together. If not for him then for his brothers.

He groaned behind his hands that switched to a brief laugh. “I can’t believe I get to say that again,” he said to himself about having brothers instead of just a brother. There was a lot August couldn’t believe. Hatchet being alive was definitely at the top. Yet Hatchet’s confession about how he’d ended up stuck inside the treasure room in the first place nearly trumped that.

He recalled how Hatchet’s expression had relaxed as he’d uttered the words, “I want to kill her-”

August’s first reaction after the shock of his statement had worn off was to laugh.

Yet September recovered faster than he did, asking the pointed question, “why do you want to kill her?” September had leaned forward in the chair, his pixie looks sharpening, as Hatchet lowered the scissors. “She was your entire world...you would have killed for her.”

September’s shoulders had tensed as Hatchet answered honestly, “That was before she stabbed me in the back with a needle filled with a toxin and left me for dead.” Then, as if the conversation bored him he changed it, demanding, “now hurry up and finish this haircut. We have work to do.” August had watched Hatchet’s mouth move, forming words, but none of them had made sense to him.

“What do you mean your pet tried to kill you?” August had gaped at Hatchet like he was crazy. Like his brother hadn’t just revealed the biggest scandal of August’s young life. “Evie? Your companion?” When Hatchet gave a clipped nod he shook his head. “No...no, there’s no way.”

Evie had been too simple-minded and loyal to be a part of something so devious. That, and there was the conversation he’d had with her-

No. he couldn’t think about that. He’d cleared the thought before it could find a way to be spoken out loud. Not willing to reveal his darkest secret to save her. A mere human. A stupid one at that. He’d Rubbed the back of his blue hair, continuing his doubt by pressing, “are you sure it was her and not one of the GARD agents?”

“I think I would remember if it was her considering I looked her in the eyes after she did it,” he’d snapped. And that was the end of the conversation. Hatchet had turned to the topic of the property managers and demanded their information, leaving all talks of his attempted murder and murdereress behind.

Hours later and it still didn’t make sense to August. But when he’d thought about it, it seemed like the only truth. Out of all of them, Hatchet had always been shrewd, assessing who he could trust and who he couldn’t. He’d turned against August and September countless times and made Jain his enemy all because they’d targeted his precious Evie. So who better to kill him than her?

A memory itched at the back of his head. He rubbed his neck and heaved a tired sigh. Why can’t I shake this feeling that somehow this might be my fault? August remembered the last time he’d seen Hatchet, him covering Evie protectively after September stepped out of line-once again-and told him he needed to be careful about trusting her so much. Now he wished he’d paid more attention to the vision that had made him reprimand Hatchet. What it showed August to think she’d ruin him. It had been so long he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d seen. Did he see Hatchet’s death? Her hold the needle- or the question that sickened him: would Hatchet have been locked up after being stabbed in the back by her-literally and figuratively-and all alone for seven years if he’d taken his vision more seriously?

Seven years I searched the world for him...and he was here this whole time. Alone.

Forget the drink. He needed a handle-straight. He still had to call Prince Zed and let him know what was going on. A fact that made him moan in apprehension while thinking about the conversation that would probably take place:

Hey, Zed. I know I said I was only going to be back for a day to finish paperwork, but guess what? Turns out my dead brother is actually not dead. He was just locked up for seven years. And the reason he couldn’t escape was because he’d been injected with some sort of new toxin that kills our kind...by his human pet.

It sounded crazy even to his own ears. He could only imagine how Zed would take it. August’s phone buzzed in the inner pocket of his hoodie and he fished it out, sighing. So much for drinking before talking to him...

He picked up the phone and hit the green button before he lost his nerve. “Hello?”

August was surprised to hear September’s soft voice and not Zed’s deep one on the other end. “Your presence has been requested in the study. Our brother has decided the verdict for our future.”

August frowned at his phone when September hung up on him. “I thought we’d already decided that.” After finishing Hatchet’s haircut August had gone to leave the study, needing to clear his head of everything he’d just heard, stopped by Hatchet informing:

“As the eldest heir of the Lamia’s I am retaking ownership and responsibility over all property matters. I will be calling the developers tomorrow and rescinding our offer to sell.”

August had waved a dismissive hand, too shell-shocked to argue or fight the decision. He had no right to anymore, anyway. Not when Hatchet was alive again. Still, a part of him wanted to fight against the returning customs for younger siblings as he forced himself to stand up and head back to Hatchet’s room, exhausted.

Opening the large wooden door and entering the study he’d been banned to enter when they’d been kids, he found Hatchet directly across from him, the familiar cocky smirk on his face, his emaciated arms crossed over his bony chest.

September was still sitting in the same chair he’d been in except now his hand was covering his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

August stood at the doorway and flicked a confused look between his brothers. He couldn’t read the mood in the room. “What?”

September snickered but Hatchet ignored him. Focusing on August he spoke crisply, the grating rasp in his voice no longer as prominent as when he’d first escaped hours ago.

“I have contacted the property managers and left a very detailed message.” he stood and clasped his hands behind his back, the regal lift of his chin awkward as he wore an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants that hung off of him.

Guilt burned through August. It’s my fault. He looks like that because of me.

Hatchet didn’t notice August’s regret, his focus on regaining his place as the eldest and now heir to the Lamia clan his only concern. “Once we have established ownership once again we will work towards rebuilding our clan, seeing if anyone is left.”

“Go on, brother,” ushered September in excitement. “Tell him what we’re going to do in the meantime.”

Hatchet shot him a dark side-look before complying. “In the meantime we will work on going after those who attempted to destroy us. From here on out our efforts will be focused on finding Evie and those responsible for our family’s decimation.”

August read between the lines. “So, what you’re saying is you want to start a war with the GARD-” so they can kill us, once and for all. Hatchet smirked in approval but it fell when August snickered, staring at his brother like he was an idiot. “Yeah, no. Count me out.”

Disrespect or not, August was not about to reveal to the GARD they’d survived. That was suicide.

Hatchet didn’t like this answer, and he bared his teeth and flashed, grabbing the front of August’s Johnny Cupcake t-shirt and bringing him close. “I don’t remember asking,” he said.

“We don’t even know who the GARD is,” argued August. He’d already gone through a period of time attempting to track the murderers down to seek vengeance. He’d found none. Not one name.

A tight smile graced Hatchet’s lips. “I know at least one of the names we need to find.”

August looked at him like he was insane. “How the hell could you possibly know that?”

“Because they stupidly wear them on their uniforms like some damn badge of honor.”

“Okay,” said August skeptically. “Then what is it?”

“Carlan,” he answered with a hiss. His jaw tensed.

August sized up his older brother and stared into Hatchet’s revenge-filled eyes, replying with a firmness he didn’t feel, “Even if that really is the name of one of them, we can’t just start some blood raged war on them. I am not saying I don’t understand you wanting revenge. But going against enemies we have no chance of beating right now? Come on...that’s foolish-” and not like you at all.

Or rather...it wasn’t. And ironically it wasn’t August anymore either. Six years ago he’d have gone after anyone he’d thought responsible for the massacre of his clan. One name, one blurred picture would have been all it took.

He’d be Reckless. Impulsive. Childish.

That’s what Hatchet was acting like now. Like a child. He confirmed that by seething, “I don’t care. What I say goes.”
Hatchet’s eyes blazed red while August blinked at him.

What happens to someone’s maturity after being locked up at 12-years-old? August had been so caught up on Hatchet’s return from the dead he didn’t once stop to think about the impact his imprisonment would have on his mind. Was he still 12? Did he mature once he’d awakened? He might no longer look like the child August had etched in his memory but he certainly still sounded like him. Which was odd. And it made August want to laugh.

He refrained and tried to placate, “I understand your anger but this isn’t the way to go about it-”

Hatchet gripped his shirt tighter and brought his face close to his. “Did I ask you for your opinion? I am the eldest. I make the rules. Not you. You will do as I say. And I say we destroy them.”

A harsh laugh bubbled out of August. “Oh yeah?” It shouldn’t have been funny. But it was. It all sounded so petulant. So silly. “You might be the eldest but you are not in charge. We’re not going to follow you blindly just because you tell us to. Count me out.”

September let out peals of laughter. “I should have recorded this.”

Hatchet’s gaze narrowed, his grip loosening. “I see your loyalty is still as faithful as ever.”

August tried to keep the words from stinging by being indifferent. This has nothing to do with loyalty. It’s about survival. “You want revenge? Go ahead. Have September help you. Obviously, he is all in for your pathetic ambitions. Not me. I’m out.”

He pulled Hatchet’s hands off of him and took a step back. Hatchet’s gaze was still blood-red but his expression was a mix of anger and disappointment. And it bothered August in a way he didn’t want to think about.

Before he said or did something he’d come to regret he spun on his Vans and pushed open the door just as Hatchet demanded- “where do you think you’re going?”

August responded by flipping him off.

Then left to find alcohol.

THIRTEEN

Terra wasn’t one to believe in luck.

She’d never be caught following a superstition if she spilled salt or ever be seen holding her breath when passing by a graveyard. She’d never knock on wood or avoid a black cat passing by her on the street.

What Terra did believe in was that people were capable of making someone believe in foolish things like luck when it was really just a bunch of cheap tricks. A quick hand. An illusion.

Which was why as she’d pulled the black tipped stick out among the ones Nero held out for Mark and Terra to take she wasn’t surprised.

Angry? Yes. And she cursed the two of them the entire flight down the metal steps to the basement level, the construction work lights blaring down on her.

How did I even end up back at this location? I thought this week I was supposed to be at the base, training new recruits...

Biting her tongue from also cursing out whoever switched her team’s assignment she got to the landing, her fingers curling into her damp palms, scanning the dark hall. Terra would never admit it out loud but she was terrified of the warehouse. Everything about it screamed a horror movie waiting to happen:

The rusty pipes filling with water and steam overhead sounding like dragging bodies in the abandoned space. The dangling construction lights that casted shadows over the narrow shelves of boxes and artifacts from past missions. The tunnel right off to the left that had been built for the GARD to travel easily under the city yet now sat empty and pitch black, the darkness so thick it looked like the mouth of a monster, ready to swallow her whole. Then the rounded tunnel to her right led to the metal bunker, a safehouse in case they were under attack and needed to sound the alarm. The bunker no one had ever had to use.

Everything was creepy. And she hated it.

If it wasn’t for the constant banter of Nero and Mark coming through the mic in her right ear she’d give into the weakness desperate to seep into her bones, rendering her useless to complete her task of patrolling each and every part of the basement.

She listened as Mark and Nero engaged in a heated discussion about who would fare better in a blood’s attack and it made the icy tendrils trying to wrap around her hedge back.

“Ten bucks you’d get your ass kicked by a blood,” said Mark.

Terra winced as Nero yelled in her ear- “ten bucks says I’ll kick your ass!”

Men. Always in a pissing contest of who’s better. Terra lifted her finger and clicked the small button attached to the walkie in her ear. “I’ll take both those bets.”

“Damn, Carlan,” whistled Nero. “Look at you instigating.” Terra gave a silent chuckle while envisioning Nero’s dark brows drawing together in surprise. He always thought her remarks were surprising. Because he always underestimated her. All the boys did.

Mark piped in. “Nah, she plans on betting against you, bud, and taking my side. ‘Cause she knows a real GARD when she sees one. Ain't that right, baby?”

She clicked the mic. “How many times did you stroke your chin while saying that, Mark?”

Nero’s loud boisterous laugh came through the mic and she tried to move away from it, going to the circuit breaker on a wall next to the steps and opening the creaky silver door, flicking on the rest of the lights.

Doing her best to not look to her left at the vacant tunnel, Terra spun away from it and headed into the first row of metal shelves.

Every single file was organized by year, month, and then raid. She grabbed a tablet in a metal box at the beginning of the first shelf and scanned the shelves for anything missing or out of the ordinary.

Technically, she was supposed to check out the black tunnel as part of her patrol as well. Except that never happened. And never would.

Keeping her back to the pit of hell she pushed herself forward, Mark’s voice booming through the mic. “Look at you paying attention to me, Carlan. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

His response made her laugh out loud and the echo bounced off the metal pipes high above her head. Although she knew she was safe she couldn’t stop the pounding of her heart being so far down without anyone. Of so many sounds and echoes that followed her while she patrolled.

It’s all normal activity...Nothing to be worried about. A click from the walkie returned her to her team just as she turned to her right and headed down the next row of shelves.

“Hey,” Nero warned. “That’s my future wife you’re talking about.” Out of the two boys Terra couldn’t deny Nero stood a better chance at making that happen. Although Mark was tall and resembled a Greek god with curly blond hair and light brown eyes, Nero was more of Terra’s type, his confident grin and dark greenish-grey eyes captivating on his smooth, cocoa skin. Not that she’d ever tell him that since she had no plans of dating him, ever, or because he would pursue her without hesitation the second he knew he had a percentage of a chance.

She went to shut him down when Mark beat her to it. “Living in those delusions of grandeur I see.”

Nero growled. “Come down here and say that to my face. . .!”

“How about both of you come down here,” interrupted Terra, finally having enough, “so I can end this stupid conversation?”

Nero’s laughter rang out loud and clear through the small mic, bouncing off the empty space Terra walked. She felt the prickle of hairs rising on the back of her neck as she made it to the third shelf, but kept her eyes forward, her breathing steady. She wasn’t sure how well the mics picked up on sounds. If Nero or Mark heard any inclination she was anything but confident it would prove to them she wasn’t as good as they were. That she was a damsel who needed to be saved.

After Everest quit his training for the G.A.R.D the backlash and crap talking ran rampant among her comrades. Especially the whispers about how the Carlans may not be as great as they’d always been made out to be. It had put so much pressure on Terra to prove them wrong, to show the boys she’d trained with that she was better than they were, and she wouldn’t let fear get to her, the way it had her brother.

Even Nero and Mark had fallen in along with the other male recruits. Until she’d kicked their asses during training. Her reputation coming out stronger than before. By the blatant threats now being thrown her way from both Mark and Nero she was pretty sure she'd proven her worth not only as a member of the GARD but as a Carlan.

A name that marked her for both greatness and failure.

Remembering how fickle a reputation can be, Terra pressed her feet more firmly into the ground to stop the tremors attempting to sneak up her legs while she walked closer to the bunker.

The odd assortment of blood memorabilia and trinkets made Terra feel like she was in a museum as she passed by them on their shelves.

A clang made her whip her head back and stop her patrol. Slowly she walked down the row and searched the place the echo resonated. Landing on the tunnel.

Nero clicked his mic, bringing her back to focus. To control. “What... no rebuttal? This is unlike you Mark.”

A walkie clicked on in her ear. Then clicked again.

Terra waited a beat before hitting her own button. “I think he’s scared after the last time he faced me.”

She tensed for the slew of swears that were sure to come from Mark.

But all she heard was the click. Then nothing.

Terra waited a few seconds before adding in a patronizing tone. “Did I hurt your ego that much?”

Mark didn’t respond. Neither did Nero. She felt the edges of the silence start to jab into her, causing her feet to stop. The water in the pipes still trickled and sloshed and she could hear the puffs of air as steam escaped from vents.

She tapped her foot. A sound that resembled echoing footsteps made her twist her head to stare into the abandoned tunnel, the darkness a heavy fog right at the entrance.

Her heart picked up in tempo. She took a steadying breath and lifted her hand to hit the button, dismayed to find her fingers trembling.

Someone beat her to it, a static click coming back on.

She released the breath she didn’t remember holding, berating-

You’re an idiot. They just want to mess with you. She smiled briefly, waiting for the reply.

It never came.

She clicked her own nervously. “Okay guys, really funny.”

Click. Click. Click.

She whipped around at another clang coming from the tunnel.

She faltered a step back. Then another.

A rat. It’s just a rat.

She shook as she hit the button again. “N-nero?” She cleared her throat then spoke again more firmly. “Nero, you there?”

A crash somewhere above. Her eyes searched wildly at the top of the steps, expecting Nero or Mark to appear at the wide doorway.

Every instinct in her body told her to run. But her pride wouldn’t let her.

Carlans didn’t run.

She clicked on the walkie again, her voice bordering shrill. “H-hey Mark, you said you saw a family of possums down here once, right?”

She waited a breath before slamming her finger into the button again. “Mark? Can you hear me?”

Click . . . . .click. The second Terra’s feet moved to the stairs and a soft chuckle whispered through the mic. “I’m afraid Mark is no longer available.”

Terra’s mind went blank. This is GARD territory. We are safe.

Click. . . Click. . . click.

For a second she didn’t move. The same tempo resumed outside of the static in her ear, becoming louder, more distinct. Subtle movement pushed through the blanket of darkness, wavering, becoming something more than the terror shutting down every thought and response she should have. Panic seizing her every thought.

Then the mic went live and she heard Nero’s voice filled with something that scared her more than the shadows forming. She heard fear.

“TERRA—SOUND THE ALARM!”

She sucked in a violent breath. No...

His urgent cry rang into her mind with warning bells, clanging and blaring so that the words of her training—to not freeze—slammed her body in action.

They were under attack.

GARD territory had been compromised.

The pat of footsteps grew in tempo, getting closer to her with each and every thump of her heart beat. The mic clicked on. “run all you want...you won’t get far.”

The amused reply spurred Terra to leave the solidifying shadows and break into a sprint.

The bunker. She needed to get to the bunker to call for backup.

Static filled the wavelengths as she heard rushing grow louder.

Before she could look over her shoulder a flash of red and black slammed into her, the force knocking her over, her arms skidding on the damp concrete as she protected her head from colliding into the ground. Terra’s arms burned, the long-sleeved olive green uniform she wore rubbed gone.

That pain was nothing compared to the burning agony pulsing from her left side where she’d been hit. Air escaped her lungs in an excruciating gasp, her arms wrapping around her ribs.

Red sneakers appeared in her line of blurred vision. “A girl. My favorite.”

Terra swallowed the bile in her throat and broke her protective hold to try and grab the venom gun issued to all agents.

The attacker stopped her by slamming his foot on her arm, making Terra’s body rock from her right side to her back abruptly, her screams merely exciting them.

She looked up into a bearded face. He ran his tongue over his fangs, his light blue hooded eyes glinting. “Oh...I’m going to enjoy this.”

The blood’s voice was not the one that spoke over the mic. It was harsher, unrefined.

Two more pairs of feet stopped in front of her.

A taller boy stood next to the first one, his dreads hanging over his front. “I think you hit her too hard.” He revealed pointed incisors and Terra’s pulse spiked. “I can smell her blood.”

The first one laughed. The one pressing his dirty red sneaker into her arm crouched down. His angular face regarded her with a cruel excitement, his gaze hungry.

Terra had no time to process anything as the front of her shirt was grabbed and she was pulled into a sitting position, the stab in her side nearly making her vision flash black from the pain.

“Tell me,” said the one holding her. “Where is the container?”

Container? Those were everywhere. Terra wondered bleakly at this as her head lolled towards her chest, which was pushed up when he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. Her mind whirred to life.

If I give them a false location they might leave to find it. Yet there was also the chance- the most likely outcome- they’d kill her right after leaving to find it.

Terra chose a third option. The one she knew she’d regret. “Go...to...hell.”

He lifted his foot from her arm. “What did you say to me?”

Terra wasted no time before the next hit would come. Now was her chance.She twisted her body and smashed her elbow into his nose, ignoring the hot flash of pain stealing the air from her lungs, reaching to grab the venom gun with her other hand. All of her years of training had prepared her to defend herself against a blood’s attack.

But not three of them. And not what she should do when they recovered too quickly.

Before her fingers brushed the cool metal holstered at her hip she was ripped from the ground and flung in the air, her body barely coiling in to prepare for the impact of hitting cement.

Someone caught her before that happened. “What the hell, Lewis? Are you trying to kill us?”

Terra felt thick arms holding her, looking up into the face of the third blood, his round face and wide set red eyes displaying alarm.

Lewis, as he was called, sneered. “Who said you could do that, Alan?”

In the haze of her panic and pain she realized the third blood’s voice didn’t match the one on the mic, either.

She swallowed and struggled to breathe. If it’s not them then there’s more of them.

The warehouse was beyond compromised. It was under siege.

Nero, Mark, and Terra had failed their assignment.

Static from the mic in her ear drowned out the arguing between Lewis and the one still holding her. When she heard nothing on the other end her mind focused on the humming in her ear rather than the raised voices of the bloods fighting over whether she should die or not.

Through her fading focus she saw Lewis’s nose seemingly unharmed. He was also surprisingly young for a blood, his face free of wrinkles or age. He couldn’t be much older than she was.

Yet looks could be deceiving. She’d learned that in training.

Alan hissed. “We’re not following your orders. He said to find the location and get out. That’s it.”

The one with the dreads took a step forward when Lewis looked about to strike. “Don’t do it, man.”

Lewis’s features tightened. “I already told you...don’t tell me what to do.” He flashed, and Alan dropped her as Lewis attacked.

The drop wasn’t far from the ground, but it radiated through her spine as if she’d fallen stories. She sucked in air and curled in on herself, the taste of iron and rust coating her tongue. The third blood tried to get in between the violent fight happening with the other ones, his body flung across the hall and knocking into the organized shelves, everything on them crashing down.

Terra’s mind filtered in and out, her lungs rasping out air and shuddering when she inhaled.

Her attention was drawn to the soft click...click...click still coming from the mic, becoming more defined the longer she heard it.

She wasn’t about to wait to see who else would join the party. If she didn’t run now, she’d be killed. As would Mark and Nero.

Keeping one eye on the fight Terra inched away from them, especially when the one who’d been thrown joined the foray again. She pushed herself onto her legs and held what she was sure to be broken ribs, limping as fast as she could towards the locked bunker and alarm button.

The GARD had never been infiltrated before. The alarm was merely there for a hypothetical situation. Except it wasn’t hypothetical anymore, she realized. It was a reality.

The sounds of screaming and struggling fell quiet. Terra craned her head over her shoulder, petrified, expecting to see them all looking her way.

Instead their backs were facing her. Too busy focusing on the sudden arrival of someone else. Even through her blurry gaze she could tell the new person wasn’t there to help her.

He walked with a self-assuredness that nothing bad could happen to him. Like he was invincible. Not ready for battle.

Alan trembled. “Shit.”

Terra inhaled sharply. The blood’s afraid of him. She didn’t bother to find out why. Taking the opportunity from the new distraction she continued stumbling toward the end of the tunnel towards the bunker, seeing the thick metal door in her sight.

Then she heard it. The voice over the mic. “I should have known you’d be incapable of following simple orders.”

Something about his voice made Terra stumble to a halt. To want to listen. To hear him speak.

Move....move! Her legs wouldn’t budge. Not until the one called Lewis scoffed. “Thought we were doing this job alone. Didn’t know they’d send the highborn to babysit.”

Her legs unlocked and she gritted her teeth, sweat dotting her forehead. What the hell was that?

Alan and the taller one hissed in what sounded like a warning. Lewis, however, decided to add- “So why don’t you let us do our job and you go sit somewhere and wait where you wont mess up your shirt?”

The fourth voice chuckled and it sent pleasant chills down her spine. “Gutter trash like yourself should learn their manners before it is too late.”

“Lewis...” hissed the third blood.

“Shut the hell up Clarent. You think I’m going to be called trash by this asshole?”

Clarent’s voice quivered. “P-please ignore him...” he begged the newcomer. “we will finish the job and report the findings to your clan...as promised.”

“No. . .” sighed the one with the silky voice, Terra's arms rising in goosebumps at the malice laced in his tone. Her legs started to lock up again but she pushed against it, using the pain to encourage her forward just as he slowly finished with, “I don’t think you will.”

Terra felt the crash before hearing the cry, followed by Clarent begging then falling into a piercing shriek.

Terra pushed all of her adrenaline in reaching the bunker. She limped quickly, stumbling when the jab of splintered bone pressed close to her lungs, not looking at anything other than the door.

God, please, she sobbed. She used the wall of the tunnel to propel her further towards her destination, desperately putting as much distance between herself and the continuing battle between the bloods behind her. A gargled scream forced her legs to push faster, her breathing barely making it into her lungs as she exited the tunnel, only twenty feet from the bunker. From safety.

If one of them survives they will come for me. And they would. . . in the blink of an eye. Her running uninjured wasn’t a match against their speed. In her state it wouldn’t even be a struggle.

The distant sound of cries met her as she reached the handle of the door and pulled. The weight of the metal door made her cry out at the strain against her broken ribs but she kept pulling, the groaning of rusted metal drowning out her own whimper, her body struggling to fit in between the space she created. She darted a look at the dimly lit tunnel and saw only one standing, the rest lying unmoving on the ground. His head angled towards her as she fought to shut the door.

Come on, come on! She pulled the door with all of her weight until it clanged shut, hastily throwing the bar over it, sealing her in.

She then lifted her hand and pressed the alarm button next to the door, the soft red light blinking to life indicating that headquarters would see the alert. Terra pressed herself against the concrete wall and sagged to the floor.

I did it...I got away. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Soon agents would come. They would save Mark and Nero. And then they’ll come for me in the bunker. . .

A soft chuckle broke her relief. “Humans...you make it so easy to know what you’re thinking.”

Terra froze. No...it’s not possible.

The young man standing across from her looked unruffled in his blood spattered silk shirt, his heart shaped face reminding Terra of a painting she’d seen of the fallen angel Lucifer, his golden blond hair shining in the blaring overhead lights. His soft mouth lifted into a smile and his liquid gold eyes locked onto hers.

“Finally... alone at last.”

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Carrie couldn’t believe it. The bastard really had done his research.

It made bile rise up in her throat, how accurate each location had been. When Arthur, Ed, and she had pulled up in the Black sedan at Jewel Beach City pier, the local police already canvassing the area, Travis was already there. Waiting with a picture.

“This was found taped on the inside of her coat,” he said. The 28-year-old CSI hadn’t looked excited the way he typically did creating a new weapon for the GARD or getting free food. He’d looked grim. As grim as Carrie had felt. She’d kept all traces of it off her face though, remaining stony. Calm.

The first picture found on the girl’s body rotting from the inside out was that of a ferris wheel. And it had only taken her a heartbeat to realize the connection of the locations set up by the serial killer’s game.

They were the places she and Ed had their first milestones. The pier down at Jewel Beach city the first time they’d hung out during training. The Ferris Wheel at the Summer Festival where they had their first real date. The Rock Cove cafe in the heart of West City where he’d proposed to her. The little white church where they’d been married which resembled more of a house than a church located off of Veranda boulevard near the state park. Each place a girl with the same gruesome fate had been found. Covered only by a crisp white sheet. She didn’t know what sickened her more: the sight of the bodies or the monster knowing her so intimately. Even her dear husband hadn’t caught on to the significance until after the Ferris Wheel. The last one was a picture of a perfectly manicured lawn, wildflowers and tulips lining a black wrought iron fence.

And when they drove the twenty minutes from the church to the small graveyard, she wondered what awaited her there. When they stopped inside the entryway Carrie was ready to jump out, Ed stopping her. “Why don’t you let us handle this one?” he said gently, his own sadness matching her own.

Arthur spoke up from the back seat. “If this is too much for both of you I can go alone.” His tone was sympathetic, and it was enough to make Carrie shrug off her husband’s comforting hand and unbuckle.

“The only ones you two should be worrying about are the families we have to call.” She stepped out of the car and felt the sharp pain in her heels. She was grateful for it. Wanting to focus on anything other than the dread and horror of the day. She walked through the rows of uneven headstones, already seeing Travis who’d gotten there before them kneeling at a familiar white sheet.

Right in front of two graves: Annie and Zach. Her dead best friends.

She trembled as she pressed her nails into the beds of her palms. All five missing girls had been found. Ed and Arthur came up behind her as Travis lifted the sheet from the girl’s blood spattered face. “She’s the last one.” Carrie took in a steeling breath. And said a silent prayer for this one like she’d done the last four. “Did the sick bastard leave anything else?” She held her breath while Travis carefully lifted the standardized black blazer of recruits and found something taped inside.

“It’s an envelope, ma’am,” Travis said, frowning.

Carrie went to him without a moment of hesitation, holding her hand out. “Let me see.”

Her fingers pushed under the cream seal just as Arthur ordered, “don’t, Carrie. It could be a trap.”

She didn’t care. She knew whatever game they were playing it had only just begun. The killer wouldn’t kill her so quickly. And just like she’d expected the envelope didn’t explode when it opened or thrust toxic powder in her face. What it contained was much worse.

The color from Carrie’s face drained as she found the dried rose petals.

She gasped. “No... it can’t be.”

Ed and Arthur came next to her and glanced at the contents. The Roses were back. Her greatest enemy. The reason her two best friends were now dead.

Arthur interrupted her shock by taking out a folded slip of paper from the envelope.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Carrie...Ed.”

Carrie dragged her eyes away from the dried flower petals and to the paper, Ed coming to stand behind her.

The envelope slipped from her fingers as she covered her mouth.

There on the paper they all found a picture of Terra staring at them in black and white.

A note written in perfect cursive underneath the picture.

Tick tock.

FOURTEEN

Terra’s mouth dropped open at the young man smiling at her. Only one thought running through her mind.

Oh my God. He’s beautiful.

It shouldn’t have been the first thought that struck her after finding herself locked into the bunker with a blood. Being in danger? Definitely. Needing to stay alert? Absolutely. Not her marveling about how she’d never seen someone so perfectly created in all her life. Not how him watching her was making her heart pitter patter the way Evie had said Steven made hers do every time she saw him.

She gaped as her eyes took all of him in, wanting to stand up and go to him, see him watching her. Admiring. Doing whatever he wanted. Anything to make him happy. She’d never liked anyone before. But if it was what she was feeling now she would happily feel this way for the rest of her life. This ecstatic. This devoted.

He tilted his head and observed her, his dark blond hair falling into his liquid gold eyes. “This is not quite the reaction I was hoping for. Your helplessness isn’t quite as heightened as I’d like it to be. . . but I have a feeling that will change once you know who you are locked in here with.”

She had no idea what he was talking about- her helplessness?- except the more he spoke the faster her eyes flitted with stars. Even when he straightened on the curved bunker, his gaze locked on hers, Terra waited in a nervous flutter for his next words.

He didn’t disappoint as he bowed his head slightly.

“Drago Michelangelo Rose. At your service.”

Terra’s cheeks warmed with pleasure as he mentioned ‘at your service’. Then the name he’d uttered cleared the thickening fog around her senses and her heart began pounding for an entirely different reason.

Rose? No...he’s lying. All of the Rose clan were dead. Her parents had been sure of it after they’d discovered they were creating an army of humans drained of their blood and replaced with the Nightrealm’s, making them mindless half-human/half-vampire monsters.

Either he was lying for clout...or not all of them had actually been killed. And if there was one certainty Terra knew it was her parents didn’t do half-ass jobs.

Gritting her teeth, she silently yelled at herself and focused on the sharp pain in her ribs, feeling each and every breath stab into her until the stars within her eyes burnt out. You idiot. You learned this day one during training!

Never give your enemy an opportunity.

Never hesitate.

She didn’t just hesitate. She gave him over 45 seconds of a perfect opportunity to kill her.

She gritted her teeth. I won’t make the same mistake twice.

Seeing he didn’t move to attack her she grabbed for her gun and aimed. Right at his lean, muscled chest. One bullet through the heart and he’d be dead. Something easier said than done as the press of dislodged bone made her hands shake while trying to lift it high enough to hit her mark.

Drago smiled at the threat. “Yes...that’s the look I wanted to see on your pretty face, Ms. Carlan, and yes-I already know who you are,” he chuckled as she sucked in a wheezing breath when he’d spoken her name.

The boy moved from his relaxed perch and slowly walked over to her, his dark golden hair glinting off the fluorescent light bulbs overheard.

“Stay back,” she cried. She blinked back the tears from the effort it took for her to speak when he was suddenly in front of her, pressing on the bone connecting her hand to her wrist so that the gun fell from her fingers, clattering to the ground.

“Bold, yet dumb.” He picked it up and removed the magazine filled with venom bullets. “Shooting in a metal container will do nothing but cause the bullet to ricochet.” He gave her a bemused look, inquiring, “didn’t you learn anything useful from your training?”

She was in too much pain to respond. He took the magazine and threw it over his head to the other side of the bunker. Terra darted a look from the blood to the only weapon that protected her until backup arrived, her hope at retrieving it withering into terror as he crunched the gun in one hand. With no effort at all.

Her lungs filled faster, a desperate gasp escaping her.

Slowly he lowered himself in front of her, and she met his unrelenting gaze unrelenting as he ordered. “Calm down.”

Calm down? Calm down? This was the last thing Terra planned to do. Being told to calm down didn’t work for her on good days. In fact It always did the exact opposite.

Yet for some unfathomable reason coming from the terrifyingly beautiful vampire who was without a scratch from the fight he initiated somehow worked like a charm.

Without taking any of her blood. Just by his simple command.

Terra barely processed this as her heart scattering a thousand beats did as he bade, returning her pulse to normal. Her breathing slowed, easing the jab in her side, and the panic that sent her nearly into cardiac arrest subsided completely.

A feeling she missed as her mind still whirred at the danger she was in. Not understanding how he controlled her like the other bloods did.

Panic heated her skin and chilled her blood. The vampire leaned close and Terra waited for her body to react, but it refused to disobey his command, remaining calm.

Remaining captive.

He hummed in approval. “Good girl.” The boy wasn’t patronizing her. He sincerely looked pleased. Anger washed over her at being spoken to like a child. A dog. If he noticed he said nothing as he explained, “I can’t have you die on me when we haven’t even begun our little talk, Ms. Carlan. In truth, I have already learned so much about you before this meeting. All of your habits and hang-ups. Your weaknesses.” Terra inched back as he leaned forward. “Care to know what yours are, Ms. Carlan?”

Her mouth opened. Closed. She was still stuck on him knowing her name to ask the important questions he wanted her to ask. He knew who she was when he started his attack. Did that mean he knew Nero and Mark would be there as well?

But how? No one knew the assigned rounds except for the higher-ups at the office. Or the locations.Even she didn’t get the actual coordinates until after she’d proved her loyalty to the GARD, a terrible test that almost made what the men in the unit used to say about her true. But she got through it, as did Nero and Mark, and so they weren’t dragged to each location with a black mask covering their heads, locked into the facilities until someone returned for them, bringing them back the same way they came.

As if reading her thoughts the boy smiled, revealing soft dimples on both sides of his cheeks. He rested his chin on his palm and watched her like she was comical. “Funny, your two friends wore the same look as you do right now. For members of the GARD, you three are terribly naive.”

She was about to ask him what he meant when the mention of Mark and Nero caused her to gasp out. “W-what...d-did...y-you do to...t-t-them-”

“No, no, Ms. Carlan,” he interrupted. “That is not the right question to be asking.” He leaned close and grinned, his eyes a golden swirl of cruel intentions, Terra’s body unable to react to the threat as he murmured softly, “what you should be asking is what will I do to you?”

Terra’s hands became clammy and cold. The only sign she registered his threat, her death imminent in his smile.

The hope that the GARD would get there before he began to enact whatever plans he had for her sparked an extra beat from her heart. She flicked a scared look to see the red light still on and prayed- please get here soon.

The blood tilted his head to the side, lifting his gaze, and she immediately regretted looking. Terra inwardly begged-please ignore it...please ignore it- yet it fell on deaf ears.

His golden eyes shifted to her and gleamed. “Humans...so easy to read.” Slowly, he stood up and walked the three steps to the blinking button.

Terra barely heard the plastic ripped from the wall before she saw the red shards fluttering to the ground. Her heart thumped and then slowed as she remembered her training in the warehouse and about the specially wired alarm.

He didn’t turn it off. He only broke the cover.

He must not have known that, because he returned to sitting cross legged on the floor in front of her looking smug. “Now that we’ve taken care of that problem, let’s deal with you, shall we?”

Keeping all traces of relief from her face she clenched her fists. They’ll be here soon. They’re coming for you-

Terra’s calming mantra abruptly ended as he carelessly brushed his fingers over her left side. She let out a loud gasp of pain while he clicked his tongue. “So fragile.” She covered her ribs protectively as he sighed. “What a bother. That simply won’t do for our discussion.”

Her stomach knotted. What the hell does that mean?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. With the same hand he’d tormented her with he lifted a finger to his perfectly bowed mouth, sharp teeth pressing into his olive skin, puncturing it. Black blood rose to the surface and dripped to the concrete floor. She had no time to register his intentions as he pushed the same finger into her parted mouth, ordering, “drink.”

For a second she attempted to retaliate before she obeyed, her mouth closing around it and letting the thick liquid coat her tongue. Her stomach fought to reject it when she couldn’t, the taste like burnt sugar cooked in a metal pan for too long making her want to retch.

Her tear-filled gaze pleaded with him to stop, his liquid gold eyes watching her with disinterested amusement, his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Such a troubled look you wear. Afraid I will change you into a vampire now?”

She was afraid. No one in the GARD had told her what would happen if she ingested demon’s blood. Even now her body recoiled at the heat slipping into her stomach, working its way up her sides and through her limbs. Then his words hit her and she let out a whimper.

Is that what his plan is? To change me? He removed his finger and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping it clean, his angelic face puckering in disgust. It smoothed when Terra cried out.

He watched her curiously as her side thumped and shifted. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she demanded hoarsely, “w-what did you...do to me?”

He didn’t answer her. Even when Terra cried out again, lurching forward.

Poison. His blood was poisoned and now it was eating her from the inside out. Unnatural. Filthy. She let out a strangled cry, holding her side as if it would stop the rotting she was sure to be happening. He chuckled as she yelled. “Make it stop!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” he grabbed her shoulders and forcefully pushed her away from the safety of the wall and down on the cold stone. Terra struggled against him, using her one hand to push back his shoulder. He easily brushed off her attempt, his voice becoming stern. “Stop moving.”

Terra’s flailing stopped, her arms and legs frozen. She looked up and trembled.

He gave a menacing smile and she felt her death in his silky voice. “Your defiance will have to be broken, Miss Carlan...but sadly that must wait for another day.” The lingering promise sent blood to rush into her ears. It was too much to let the mention of there being another day offer solace that he wasn’t going to kill her. Not when the searing heat settled in her ribs, burning her from the inside out.

Bile rose in her throat. His mention of turning her made air rush out of her lungs faster and faster-

Then. . . it all stopped.

The pain. The burning. The trouble breathing. All of it was gone.

She stared up at him in shock as she waited for the agony to return. A few seconds passed and still nothing. Like it had never been there to begin with.

“My, by that look it really appears you had no idea what would happen...The GARD really is misinforming their promising new recruits. And yet you are not just a promising new recruit...are you Ms. Carlan-daughter of the esteemed Captains?”

Her eyes widened. How does he know that?

She never got to ask. He leaned closer and smiled. “I guess we’ll find out just how misinformed you really are after our little chat.”

Terra’s heart thrummed as she locked onto his gleaming eyes.

Everything falling into darkness.

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Every parents’ worst nightmare was their children being in danger.

Nothing else mattered. No laws or rules or rationality. Just getting to their child. Holding them. Feeling them in their arms and knowing everything would be okay.

This was what Carrie and Ed did, speeding on the freeway at 100 miles per hour, cutting the 25 minute drive down to 15, pushing their way through the agents searching each floor for the other agents in Terra’s team while Carrie and Ed went for their daughter.

Prayers and cries and begging ran rampant in their heads. The stairs down to the basement being the longest trek they’d ever taken, the agents on the basement floor clamping the steel cuffs on the three unconscious bloods.

Through their sprint down the tunnel towards the bunker where the alarm blared red on the upper walls on the steel container, the piercing shriek coming from it was nothing compared to the blood pulsing in their eardrums, and the fear of what awaited them on the other side of the door.

Carrie and Ed pushed their way through the agents working at breaking down the door as they moved aside.

Carried reached the door and banged on it, Ed doing the same above her head.

Ed cried. “Terra! Open the door!”

They heard no sound on the other side. Carrie’s hands pounded frantically, bruised and stinging against the cold metal. “Baby...baby it’s momma!”

The unprofessionalism didn’t faze her. Nothing mattered-not her job, not her position, not her agents’ respect- just her daughter.

Ed stopped banging and spun around, barking. “Get every tool to break this door down!”

“On it, sir-”

“-WAIT!” Carrie halted them all spinning on their black boots to do Ed’s bidding when the subtle sound of metal groaning came from the other side. They sucked in startled breaths and drew their weapons, Ed ordering, “don’t shoot!” as the bar on the other side of the door clicked out of its holder, and the steel door slowly opened outward.

Ed roped Carrie around the shoulders and dragged her back. Protocol in case what waited for them wasn’t their daughter. Then a hand Carrie recognized stuck out slowly-in surrender- followed by a wavering voice. “Mom.”

“Stand down!” an agent cried as Terra came around the door, sobbing.

Ed and Carrie both ran to her, embracing her.

The tears Carrie’d held back rushed down her face and onto the top of her daughter’s precious head as she held her tight.

Something five families would never get to do again.

Their worst nightmare come to life.

CHAPTER 14

September wandered through the mansion in search of August.

A couple of hours should be more than enough time for his little pity party.

He shouldn’t have laughed at Hatchet’s declaration. He’d meant it to be mocking and for August to join in on the ridiculous notion of them going after the very people who’d killed their entire clan. Not take it as him siding with their childish, vengeful brother. He exhaled, annoyed, strolling through the empty halls filled with ghosts, his diamond crusted black loafers lifting layers of dust to rise and fall over them.

How quickly the order of things returned to normal. For years August had been the head of their family. And in one day he’d resorted back to the younger brother role. To the desperate little boy giving in to their eldest brother. All because that devil looking prick decided to stay alive.

His animosity towards Hatchet was tampered down as the sweet nostalgia of his old family home caressed him. The subtle scent of black roses still filled the halls despite the scent of mold and decay underneath it all. It attempted to submerge him in a longing he’d not felt in years- a much nicer feeling than the resentment making him scowl. If there was anything September hated more than Hatchet it was strong emotions- they were bad for the complexion.

He rubbed his cheeks to relax the tightness. He wasn’t successful until he’d reached the courtyard. The scent of roses faded, replaced by the dried dead grass and prickly weeds that came to half of his 5’8” height. He clicked his tongue at the sight. “How far the mighty have fallen.”

The Courtyard had been Lord November’s prized jewel at the Lamia mansion. Hosted in several magazines, a marriage destination for several famous people, and the envy of rose lovers all over the world, the once beloved courtyard now laid in ruins, all rose bushes dead and gone. Just like his family.

It was poetic really, something August would appreciate if he wasn’t acting like some abandoned child who had no one to love him.

September slowly walked along the intact marble corridors when he heard what sounded like moaning. He came to a stop and searched for the cause. Speak of the devil...

Through the unruly weeds in the middle of the courtyard he saw August lying on a stone wall nearly out of sight, the large glass bottle he held up over his torso sloshing an amber liquid all over him.

September rolled his eyes. Stupid drunk.

August swayed the bottle, and September realized ‘moaning’ wasn’t the right word as he heard him try to belt out-“Hello from the other side! I forgot this part but I’ll still try!”

September groaned from embarrassment. Less than one day and he’s already amounted to...this.

He wasn’t surprised, really. Just disappointed. Losing Hatchet had broken August in a way that even after the two of them made it out alive while hiding in August’s bedroom it hadn’t been enough to dim the grief on his face.

Seeing the sight of his usually controlled brother acting like an absolute fool tempted him to go back into Hatchet’s study and hurt him the same way August was now hurting.

Keeping all traces of the desire off his face, he crossed his arms and reprimanded. “So, this is where you’ve been hiding.”

August was wailing the second verse, stopping when September spoke. His head drooped to the side and he scowled. “What do you want?”

For you to stop letting him make you act this way. “It was to stop your awful singing,” September drawled. “but now it’s to end your sulk fest.” The weeds attempted to snag onto his skinny jeans and shoes but he easily broke away from their hold. August scoffed and lifted his head to take another swig- but September was too quick, stealing the bottle out of his hand. “Hey! Give it back!”

“No. You’ve had enough-” of being this broken over him. September kept his concern and anger out of his voice as he stepped out of August’s reach. It wouldn’t do August any good if September played a different role. “Get over whatever sobfest you’re throwing yourself and get a grip-and for the love of God go shower,” he added, gagging when August wobbly sat up and attempted to grab the bottle, his stench hitting September like a wave.

He pinched his thin nose. How much did he drink? August smelled like the bums that hung out in front of Zed’s mansion’s gates. He got his answer when August stumbled off the low wall and his sneakers clanked against several empty glass bottles before he charged at September. Or rather, attempted to charge, his intoxicated self falling into the weeds with a thump. “Ow.”

“Serves you right, you messy drunk.” September hadn’t seen him this bad since Zed’s younger sister Valentina had laughed at him after he’d confessed his undying love for her.

At least he wasn’t crying now. Nothing made September more uncomfortable than people openly breaking down. Especially his family.

August groaned again. “Go away.”

“Why? So you can stay out here all day and hope he’ll come and find you? What are you, a pitiful protagonist in a romance novel?”

“Do you know how to be anything but obnoxious?”

“Obnoxious?” repeated September, pretending to be hurt. “I thought I was being clever!” August fake sobbed, making September drop his role for a brief moment, remarking curtly, “I hope you know you’re wasting your time, brother. He’s not coming out here to find you-” just like he never did when we’d been kids.

August overlooked his jab and his break at playing the carefree, annoying little brother. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, I was out here talking to Zed.”

“Uh huh.”
“I’m serious!” he said, slurring the word serious. His head peeked out from the grass, and September’s anger simmered at the lack of the strong brother he’d had before this grueling morning, August looking lost and completely helpless. “I called to update him on our situation.”

Hours. It only took hours. He crouched down amidst the weeds, wincing when pinching his nose wasn’t enough to stop the alcohol permeating out of August’s pores. “Okay, drunkie, I’ll play along. What did he say?”

“He told us to stay put and...and he’ll be here soon.”

September’s brows rose. “Zed is coming to California?” August laughed, a low dopey sound. September threw the bottle over the wall and used his free hand to grab a handful of August’s blue hair to force his head up. August hissed in pain but didn’t fight him off as September demanded calmly, “what did you tell him, brother, to make him come?” Zed hated flying. So whatever August relayed must have been worrisome enough to make him decide his fear of heights wasn’t worse than coming to August’s aid.

August’s dark green eyes were glazed and bloodshot. He grinned. “I told him our dead brother is still alive. And then I told him he doesn’t care that we're alive. And then I told him he wants to go after the GARD and kill us all.”

“You drunken idiot.” August laughed again, the sound turning into a sob. September released his hair and slapped him upside the head before he could break down. When the first hit didn’t work he added a bit more weight into the second slap until August demanded loudly, “what the hell?” Don’t give him the damn satisfaction. He doesn’t deserve it. “We need to sober you up,” grumbled September when August swiped a hand out at him. “You’re too drunk for your own good.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!”

September paid him no mind and stood up. “You are only this bad because you haven’t eaten. If only a Snickers bar would do the trick.”

“That’s it... Once I get up you’re dead.”

September watched him struggle to stand, taking one swift step back as August lunged for him, falling again.

“Yeah, I highly doubt that.” He crouched down again when August made no move to attempt attacking. “You’re so drunk you can’t even make good on your threats-”

“-why doesn’t he care if we're alive?” August whispered. September’s slow beating heart clenched at the brokenness in his question. He lifted his head up and September saw the tears shining. “We’re his brothers... and all he cares about is finding her.”

September shut his eyes. “please don’t say it.Don’t say her name-”

“All he cares about is finding Evie!”

September sighed. Then clenched his teeth. “Evie, Evie, Evie.” How he was so sick of that stupid name. September had listened to August talk about his hurt from Hatchet turning his back on them for his dumb pet more times than he cared to count.

It reminded him of how September had made the decision to solve August’s problem by going after little piggy and trying to kill her by throwing her over the third story railing. It had been the perfect plan- made to look like she fell over it herself- until August had intervened and saved her. If he hadn’t they would have all been free from the nonsense. Hatchet wouldn’t have been injected. August wouldn’t be hurt. And maybe September wouldn’t despise the very sight of his eldest brother.

He wanted to berate August for it being his fault but stopped himself. August was already a shell. September didn’t want to crumble him into nothing. Instead, he said tenderly, “Come on, drunkie...let’s go find you some food.”

He roped his hands around August’s arm and hoisted him up as August went on his broken tirade- “I understand why Hatchet wants to kill Evie. I support it wholeheartedly. But couldn’t that wait until after we’ve had some time to catch up? Doesn’t he want to know how we’ve been doing while he was locked in the room?”

God help me. August sagged against him and blubbered like a child who’d lost his mom in the grocery store. The emotional outburst made September propel them towards the corridor. The old man should have recovered a little since Hatchet’s attack. He’d have to do for now. Thinking about the old man made September grimace as he begrudgingly gave Hatchet a small amount of credit for not draining the old man dry after being deprived of blood for years-but that was the only credit he’d give him. Ever.

September reached the stone walkway when he heard a soft peal of laughter. He glanced at August who looked miserable. “Did you hear that?”

August sniffled. “Hear what?”

A slow smirk spread across September’s mouth as he caught someone saying-“come on, man-hurry up and lift me.” He gave August a sidelong look, the subtle thumps of beating hearts cheering up September considerably. “Looks like dinner has been delivered.”

“Huh?” August eyed him suspiciously, but September was already pushing them down the corridor, the voices getting closer.

If August hadn’t been so drunk they could have flashed to where the voices were coming from. Because of the added weight they’d had to walk, and it took a whole minute to reach the intruders who were busily trying to be lifted into a high, broken window.

A tall, freckled boy around the same age as August remarked with irritation. “Lift yourself.”

The boy one holding onto the high windowsill’s ledge was a bit heavier than the other boy, his dark curly hair bouncing with his attempt to do just that.

The three girls around the two boys were joking and teasing them, flouncing their hair when the freckled boy looked their way.

One of them must have been the alpha in the group, her dark lined blue eyes narrowing as she began. “Oh my God. Did you guys see Terra’s sister today?” When the two blonde girls next to her shook their heads she went on with a sharp laugh. “She is such a trainwreck. Following poor Steven around like a little lost puppy.”

The one dangling remarked in warning. “Hey...be nice. That’s Steven’s pet you're talking about.”

All laughed except Steven who offered a thin smile. “Leave her be. She’s a nice kid.”

“Steven is just saying that because he’s still trying to bang her sister.”

“Shut the hell up, Andrew.”

“Good luck,” sniffed the brunette. “From what I’ve heard she’s only a tease. Never goes all the way.”

“But does she go down?” Andrew asked. He dropped from the window sill and sucked in air through his teeth, a cut gleaming red on his hand under the burning sun. August reacted violently, his head snapping up, his pupils swirling with red.

He pushed out of September’s supportive hold and staggered forward.

The brunette noticed him first. “Um...who are you?” Although she looked annoyed, her voice sounded breathless.

“What are you talking about Livy?” Livy pointed and Steven flicked a skeptical glance towards August and September.

September grinned. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same question.” he whipped a hand out and grabbed the back of August’s shirt who was now making a guttural sound low in his throat.

Andrew stepped in front of the girls and flexed. September muttered loud enough for only August to hear, “you’re acting like a wild animal.”

“This is private property.” Andrew crossed his arms and gave them a threatening look.

August snapped. “Let me go, September.”

September responded by holding onto his shirt tighter and answered Andrew. “You don’t say.”

The cocky tone made Andrew snarl at him. “Do you hear this little asshole?” Then to September- “you should go.”

How amusing. “And if I refuse?”

Andrew smiled, revealing a slight gap in his front teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that...”

“Come on man, don’t,” warned Steven. To September he told him coolly. “But seriously, you should both leave.”

The girls peeked around Andrew’s broad frame. “What? Jealous of a little competition, Steven?” asked Livy. She winked at September.

August was practically foaming at the mouth, demanding again. “Let me go!”

“Not yet.” Locking eyes with Steven he asked him curiously, “why should we leave our own home?”

“Are you high?” yelled Andrew. He flicked a cold look at August, muttering, “what drugs are you on? The people who lived here were all killed- like you will be if you don’t get the hell out of my face now.” He stepped closer to be threatening, but September merely found the display amusing.

Flicking a brow up, September grinned in challenge. “We’ll see...” He released his hold on August and saw him glance back in confusion. “Go ahead- but please do not kill him.”

The heart rates of the five spiked. Andrew decided to charge at September who didn’t move a muscle. “You little prick-”

August flashed, and pinned the loudmouth idiot to the vine covered wall, biting into his neck before Andrew could cry for help.

No one came to his aid. Instead, the girls screamed and Steven ushered them to run.

September chuckled and followed after them.

Going for the brunette first.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Hatchet?”

The voice was familiar. Warm.

He opened his eyes. Evie.

He was sitting in his chair, his room filtered with sunlight coming through the darkened glass. He was still wearing the t-shirt and pants August had lent him after his shower. A chill kissed the back of his neck as a figure ran by his open door.

“Evie?” He stood up slowly, and walked to the doorway, glancing around the wooden moulding to look out. Scanning the hall he saw her down the hall, her large hazel eyes brightening when he looked her way, waving for him to follow. His blood calmed in his veins as he slowly went after her, down the three flights of steps and coming to the great hall. She ran down the corridor behind the stairs, laughing, her childlike joy making him want to laugh as well.

“Silly girl, what are you doing?”

He walked down the less furnished hall and stared at the wood paneling. Evie disappeared around the corner and he brought his attention back to her, his steps hastening to catch up.

Around the corner he came to a stop, his eyes creasing in alarm. Paneling covering the storeroom door was taken off, and the metal door was wide open. Who is in there?

The sound of sniffling made him break into a sprint. “Evie!”

He ran down the length of the hallway but the door never got closer. He gritted his teeth and held his hand out, shutting his eyes in frustration.

When they opened, he stumbled back, shock slipping through him like a livewire. He stared into the dark storeroom. “Evie...where are yo-”

Hatchet fell off in a harsh breath and turned his head over his shoulder. “Evie?”

He stared at her kind, round face. Her eyes blank.

Then he glanced at the silver needle now sticking in his back. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, young. “Why Evie?”

Everything wavered. He tried to turn to get her but stumbled to the black rug as the burning coursed through him.

She took a step back. Then another. Hatchet held his hand out farther, his eyes pleading with her.

Don’t leave me here, Evie...Don’t leave me all alone.

Footsteps walked down the hall, Unhurried. “I’m sorry.”

No... you’re lying.

His vision wavered with black spots, as a shadow hovered over her.

“I’m sorry...”

Shut up...

he reached a hand out, his heart slowing, his blood burning him from the inside out, already knowing what she’d say next. Still killing him the same way the poison was doing to him.

“I’m so sorry...but it’s the only way. . .”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

His raspy voice echoed sharply in his study, haunting him. Disoriented, he searched around and took everything in, his breaths ragged, the fading burn of his nightmare too real after he’d fallen asleep on his couch.

Pressing his face into his trembling hands he tried to get himself under control.

Slowly pieces of the day came back to him. He remembered August had stormed out in defiance, saying he wouldn’t help him, and then September had followed close behind, leaving him alone. And then there was the fact up until this morning he’d been trapped in that room. Stuck there for seven years.

He’d almost chased after them, admitting- I’m scared to be by myself. He’d been stuck with only himself for company since he’d woken up in the room, and the thought of returning to it made him tremble. Yet his fear of being weak kept him silent. Of admitting he needed his brothers more than they needed him.

Lowering his hands he glanced around at the contents in his room. All of it was caked in dust and reeked of mildew forming somewhere underneath the faded black carpet. Aside from that nothing had drastically changed about it.

I thought the GARD would have raided the entire property and burned it to the ground. But it didn’t even look like they’d entered the room, let alone raided it.

Then again, why would they bother? They’d only cared about killing his clan. Not what treasures they’d possessed. Unlike the old man who now slept in one of the rooms down on the basement floor.

Hatchet gritted his teeth. That’s why they never found me in the storeroom. They weren’t bothering to look. He rubbed the place where the toxin was injected, the skin still sensitive even after all these years. Hatchet’s eyesight and hearing were still struggling to adjust to his freedom, the brightness of the overhead lights blurring his vision. Reminders of why he had to find Evie and make her pay.

Hatchet didn’t ignore the possibility she could have been killed in the raid. But he was hopeful that since she betrayed him it meant whomever gave her the needle had saved her.

His stomach clenched. No. I have to believe she’s still alive. And that I will get my revenge. He wouldn’t let himself believe the sick feeling was from anything else. Whatever kindness or affection he’d had for her was over after her betrayal.

He was attempting to shrug off the troubling emotions when he picked up the essence of blood. This blood was different from the man he’d fed off of after being freed. And not like Evie’s blood which smelled sweet. This was more subtle. Alien.

Hatchet stood up and flashed to it, following it to the great hall. He winced as he recalled the last time he’d been there, the screams and dimming eyes of his people haunting him. Then laughter broke the memory and he found September lounging in one of the oversized settees by the veranda. “Oh, you are so much fun!”

Hatchet cautiously came around the corner of the stairwell and counted five humans. Three girls and two boys. They were sitting around September and passing a large bottle of amber liquid between them. One girl with dark hair sat next to September on the cushion, her wrist bleeding.

September must have sensed Hatchet’s arrival, glancing over and saying brightly, “Brother! You’re just in time for the feast...”

“What?” Hatchet took a step forward while September went back to feeding on the girl’s wrist, demanding loudly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? This is against the rules!”

“There are no more rules, brother,” said a voice behind him. August brushed past him and headed to September, his voice losing some of its edge. “I got everything.”

“Wonderful! Now the party can really begin.”

Hatchet stared incredulously as August went to the settee next to September’s and pulled out six bottles. Then he took one of the blank-eyed boys who was spattered with freckles sitting on the floor and lifted up his arm. “We don’t have the luxury anymore of having contracts with humans. If you want to survive you take what you can get. Besides...they were trying to break in. The least they can do is feed us.”

Hatchet crossed his frail arms over his chest, his throat burning with thirst. August lifted the wrist to his mouth and bit down, the scent of blood making Hatchet step closer, his eyes centered on the droplets of blood. No...this is wrong... this is not the Lamia way...

Hatchet moved against his will until he was standing in front of August. August met his look of disbelief in challenge, daring him to fight what was natural for them.

As hungry as he was he couldn’t do it. It was wrong. He’d already broken the rules by attacking the older man earlier. That one he could at least excuse because it had purely been about survival. Because without it he wouldn’t have been able to move from his prison and tomb.

If he did this now...there would be no turning back. He’d be forsaking the Lamia code.

August lifted the arm high enough that Hatchet would just have to lean down and bite. Unconsciously, he leaned forward. Clearly, my brothers don’t care about shaming our family name. . .so why should I?

September released the girl’s wrist and smacked his lips together. “Go on, brother. You know you want to.”

Hatchet did want to. And was about to. . . when September’s voice snapped him back to clarity. He pushed the arm away, his teeth gritting to stop from giving in. “No thanks.” He forced himself to turn his back to him-difficult when all he wanted was blood- August’s voice stopping him from leaving.

“I thought you wanted to find Evie and kill her.”

“And I thought you were out,” Hatchet mocked, his body trembling as his resolve crumbled, breaking when August answered slowly- “I was...until I found out who she’s living with.”

So the traitor is still alive. He slowly turned his head and saw August’s eyes gleam. “Who is she living with?”

August lifted the boy’s arm again, determined. “First, you eat. Then I’ll tell you.”

Hatchet felt September’s eyes locked on him but he didn’t look away from August. For a second he wrestled with wanting to fight it, hating being on the outside of information. But something about August’s expression made him stay. Made him wait.

“If I do, does that mean you will help me?” Hope dripped off his words and made him inwardly cringe. Being weak was not his specialty.

“I’m going to do more than that,” replied August. Hatchet’s heart thumped once as he finished with, “I’m going to help you kill her. But in turn we leave the GARD out of it. No attacks. We will just go after your old pet and the people she’s with.” He returned the arm close to Hatchet’s mouth, and rose a dark blonde brow. “Do we have a deal?”

Hatchet didn’t want anyone to help him kill Evie. That was his own victory to relish. “I don’t want to kill innocents. I just want Evie.”

September chuckled. “They’re far from innocent if your memory is correct brother.” he leaned back and sighed, content. “It seems your little pet might have been working with the enemy after all.”

Hatchet’s eyes widened. He shot a look to August in confirmation but he refused to budge until he met his end of the bargain. His heart raced in his chest as he took the proffered arm with weak fingers.

Do I want his help? After all, they’d never done anything together like this. And he couldn’t stop his paranoia that it was all a trap. Yet Hatchet was in no position to search for her on his own. Still too weak and inexperienced with the evolving world (the square device September had was proof he had a lot to learn)- giving him no choice but to accept August’s stipulations.

Without thinking about it, he lowered his head and bit into the boy’s flesh, his body singing as he relieved the burning ache in his throat and veins.

September laughed. “Told you he’d join.”

Something about the way he said it made Hatchet realize he’d not only disrespected their family code. He’d lost his dignity, too.

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Evie expected no one to be home when she got there.

Carl, her manager, had let her leave an hour early, the shop surprisingly dead for such a hot August day. She didn’t question it, too happy to lose the hour of pay to seep in the central air of her house, starting some Netflix binge- anything to push out the nightmare she’d had about Hatchet. The same one replaying in her head all day long.

She’d been so shaken up she hadn’t been able to flirt with Steven during registration. Even when he was standing right next to her at one of the booths. All she’d been able to focus on was the betrayal on Hatchet’s face. His cold, charcoal gaze dimmed. Hearing -how could you?- over and over.

She reached her front door and the dread that had settled over her since morning escalated. She didn’t know what the cause was until she made out the clear voices of Carrie and Terra through the white painted door.

“Mom, stop. I’m fine.”

“Shh, no you’re not.”

The distress in Carrie’s voice pushed Evie to put the key in the lock and swing open the door, searching for her sister and mom. They were in the living room, Terra lying on the couch with her shirt up, exposing her ribs, Carrie sitting on the edge of the mahogany coffee table holding a pack of ice over a very ugly brown and purple bruise covering Terra’s entire left side.

Evie’s keys slipped from her fingers and clattered to the tiled hallway. “Terra...what happened?”

Carrie and Terra stopped arguing with each other and both looked at Evie. Terra spoke first. “What are you doing here?”

The accusation wasn’t lost on Evie. She answered in the same tone, storming into the living room. “I got out of work early. What happened to you?”

Carrie stood up and went to Evie, placing her strong, firm hands on Evie’s shoulders. “Sweetie, I told you to call one of us so we can come pick you up. It’s not safe right now...”

She’s going to lecture me while Terra looks like that? Evie pointed to Terra who was now struggling to sit up and swearing under her breath at the effort. “Can we please yell at me later about walking home, and tell me what happened to Terra?”

Terra rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re both so dramatic. I. Am. Fine!”

Carrie gave Terra a warning look before returning to Evie. With Carrie’s heels she nearly reached Evie’s height. “Terra had a tiny accident at her internship today.”

“Tiny?” repeated Evie. “That does not look tiny.”

“That’s what happens when they make me wear heels.”

“You, lie back down and put the ice pack on,” ordered Carrie with a look over her shoulder. To Evie, she placed her hands-cold from the ice pack- on Evie’s cheeks and gave her a beseeching look. “And you: no walking home alone anymore, understand?”

“Yes, mom,” Terra and Evie said simultaneously. Carrie shut her eyes and sighed. When she opened them she gave Evie a tired smile. “Good.” She rubbed Evie’s cheek with her thumb tenderly and then stepped back, becoming all business.

“I have to head back to the office. I left your poor father all alone with Arthur to get Terra,” she explained at Evie’s frown. She glanced behind her at Terra while telling Evie, “make sure she doesn’t leave the couch, will you? If she even thinks about it, go ahead and poke her side.”

Terra sucked in a sharp breath as she laid back down. “That’s cold, mom.”

“It shouldn’t matter since you’re fine, right?” remarked Carrie sarcastically. Terra glowered.

With a satisfied smirk, Carrie headed to the front door. “Everest should be home after his practice.Your father and I will try to be back home by dinner but, if not, feel free to order whatever you girls want. My card is on the kitchen table.”

Evie felt the heat from outside hit her back when Carrie opened the front door. “And whatever you two do, do not leave this house.”

Carrie’s overprotective nature wasn’t new to Evie. Yet the fear in her voice was. Evie looked over to see if her expression would confirm what she’d heard but Carrie had already walked out the door and shut it behind her.

She flicked a skeptical look at Terra. “Did something else happen?”

Terra busied herself with turning on the tv, her expression blank. “Nope.”

Why do I feel like they’re hiding something? Evie rubbed her arms and looked at the front door once more.

Wishing the feeling crawling over her skin would go away.

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Hatchet, September, and August watched the humans leave the mansion slowly, their weakened bodies stumbling down the dark stone path, their confusion evident in the way they rubbed the backs of their heads and glanced at each other for an explanation.

September yawned, breaking the silence between them. “I don’t know about you but I am ready for bed.”

Hatchet flicked a brow in his direction, remarking dryly. “It’s only 8 pm.”

“September’s one of those annoying early risers,” explained August, his eyes still following the fading silhouettes. “And by far the most annoying morning person ever to walk this earth.”

September snorted. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, brother.”

Hatchet felt his mouth lift. “Some things haven’t changed.” He felt comforted by this realization that maybe his brothers weren’t complete strangers to him now. Maybe he didn’t have to lose his place as the eldest brother after all.

Which was why he wanted to stay in their family home. Whatever the reason August and September had tried to sell it he would fix it. Without their home he didn’t know who he’d be in the grand scheme of things. And what Hatchet wanted to do was re-establish his right both as their eldest brother and as the Lamia heir.

“I know I mentioned it earlier but I want to stress now that aside from knowing Evie’s location I do not intend to leave our home. This is our legacy,” he continued, sensing both of their eyes now on him. “It is our responsibility to maintain and continue that legacy left by our ancestors-”even if that is now covered in blood.

September spoke first, and Hatchet found himself feeling nervous about his response. “I have to say...there’s something nostalgic about being here again.”

“I agree,” sighed August. He turned and leaned against the window, crossing his arms. Hatchet and him were nearly the same height except August passed him by a couple of inches. How times had changed. “Then again, it doesn’t really matter what we think...after all, you’re the head of our family now. What you say goes.”

Hatchet found himself speechless as August smiled, no remnants left of the spiteful boy he’d once been. “I’ll call the management group in the morning and tell them we want to rescind our offer. Last I heard they were fighting the Historical society to tear it down, anyway, so we should still have some time.”

Although Hatchet would never say it out loud he was overly thankful to August for stepping down. He raised a hand and placed it on August’s shoulder, ignoring the surprise in August’s dark emerald gaze, promising:

“We’re going to restore what was taken from us. This I vow.”

.

SIXTEEN

One week later....

Everest opened his red school locker and sighed, the sounds of students returning after a long summer passing by him. “It’s finally happening... my senior year.”

Terra clicked her tongue as she slumped against the locker next to him. “Speak for yourself,” she grumbled. “I still have two more years.”

Evie yawned and moved to stand next to Terra. “Me too-” she fell off in a gasp and jumped from the locker to face him. “Oh my God....I just realized it’s your senior year.”

Everest looked at her in surprise as Terra commented dryly. “What do you mean you ‘just realized’? He hasn’t shut up about it since we got out of school.”

Everest’s heart thumped at the downcast look that crossed Evie’s beautiful face. She’d straightened her hair this morning so that her reddish brown hair glinted in the light. When Everest had asked her why she’d ruined her loose curls she commented that she wanted to change things up. Then Terra had informed him it was because Steven liked girls with straight hair, like Livy.

He wanted to tell her he liked her the way she was any day of the week. But he didn’t think that was a good idea.

Maybe that’s about to change now that she’s sad about me leaving. He couldn’t stop the warmth creeping into his high cheekbones in the hope she was finally starting to feel differently about him, too. Clearing his throat he disregarded the shrewd look coming from Terra and told Evie in a reassuring tone, “aw, don’t be sad.” When she stared up at him, dismayed, he added, “I’ll be sure to come and visit you next year so you won’t miss me-”

Evie cut him off, her expression crestfallen. “That means I only have one more year with Steven!”

Terra covered her mouth to smother a laugh while Everest digested the turn in conversation. “Huh?”

Evie shook her head and gave a frustrated groan. “How could I forget that? I have no time now!”

“Wait, where are you going-I thought we were going to hang until the bell!” Everest watched in shock as Evie spun on her heel and began to run down the hall.

“No time! I’ll see you guys at lunch!”

He raised a hand, his mouth dropping open, incredulous. What the hell just happened? They still had time before the first bell. What was she going to do for the next fifteen minutes?

Terra gave a slow shake of her head. “Just let it go, Everest...let it go.” She lowered his hand and sighed, answering to his helpless look. “I don’t get it either. Who wouldn’t want a slightly incestuous relationship with their step-brother instead of going out with the most popular boy in school?”

Everest’s ears burned hot. “Keep your voice down!”

“What? Worried Evie will overhear? Trust me,” she said with a smirk while glancing down the hall. “She’s not coming back.”

Everest deflated. How could that both relieve and hurt me at the same time? He shut his locker and picked up his backpack. “You don’t have to look so happy,” he muttered when he caught Terra’s smile.

She shrugged. “I’m sorry, but you’d laugh too if you’d seen how hopeful you looked.” To demonstrate she widened her eyes and put her hands on her cheeks, her mouth parting. “I’ll come visit you next year. You don’t have to miss me,” she mimicked, breaking out into a high-pitched laugh. When she quieted, she slapped him on his arm as he glowered at her. “Moron.”

“Sadist,” he retorted, catching up to her when she’d started walking down the hall. She thought his unrequited love was funny. Of course she does, he growled inwardly. Terra has never been in love before. So why would she care that I’m heartbroken?

As annoyed as he was at her, a part of him was glad she was finally back to normal. After the bloods’ attack at the warehouse she’d been shaken. Jumpy. So unlike the resilient brat of a sister she always was. She and their parents had kept saying she was fine. But Everest had been worried.

It was nice to see her laughing again. Even if it came at his expense.

They headed down the hall while Terra continued to mock him by making the same face she swore he’d worn when he’d thought Evie had been sad he wouldn’t be in school. He caught Evie talking to someone who could only be Didi, her sleek black hair and large round glasses blocked out by someone in a sparkly light purple sweater walking towards him. He was thankful to the student blocking him so Didi wouldn’t see him. He wasn’t in the mood for running today.

Terra continued to mock him, so he lightly shoved her away. “Stop it.”

She retaliated by punching him pretty hard in the arm, making him stumble to the left-

bumping right into the boy wearing the purple sweater.

Everest held up his hands in apology, catching the glaring eyes of a black haired boy with him before meeting the unhappy look of the one he’d bumped into.

“Sorry about that, man,” he said with an awkward smile, looking down into a soft heart shaped face now wearing a pout. “My sister pushed a bit too hard.” He turned to jerk his head towards Terra but saw she’d kept walking, her back to them. Is she serious? Sadist wasn’t a strong enough word for her, he realized, her shoulders shaking and her head dipped low in obvious laughter.

Glancing to the boy, he saw in embarrassment that he now looked disgusted while swiping down his oversized sweater, as if Everest was filthy. The boy’s emerald gaze flicked back up, his features sharpening. Everest took a step back, the boy radiating danger. Which didn’t make sense...because he was half his size. “You’re lucky you're cute or I’d push you harder than she did.”

He blinked. “Um...okay?” Although he felt his body lock up at the intensity of the boy’s heated stare, Everest couldn’t stop himself from sizing him up. How is he going to push me harder than Terra? He’s a twig. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than Everest, his thin body wrapped up in black skinny jeans and the sweater draping over his arms leaving nothing to the imagination.

Then why was he nervous from the boy yelling at him? The only answer Everest came up with was that he wasn’t used to it. Most people didn’t mess with him because he looked scary. Even if he was far from it looks easily deceived people.

Except this boy didn’t look at Everest as if he was scary. In fact, he looked at him like he was harmless. Insignificant. Like he could kill him and not blink twice.

The other two boys standing behind him were stronger looking than the purple-haired boy, but they weren’t the ones currently giving Everest chills. Then he caught on to the rest of what he said.

Did he just call me cute? Everest thought he must have been hearing things when he watched the boy’s mouth crook up, his eyes assessing Everest slowly from head to toe, lingering when he reached a place that was not meant for his leering eyes. Everest cleared his throat and shifted his body away, his ears burning.

The boy ran his tongue over his lower lip before slowly looking back up and grinning. “Be more careful, pretty boy. I’m not so forgiving a second time.” Then to his friends. “Let’s go. Poor Livy is waiting for me.” He waved them forward and they all headed down the hall, but not before he gave Everest a wink.

Everest stared, speechless, as the blue haired boy whacked the purple haired one upside the head. “Don’t be such a pervert.”

“What?” He said innocently with a shrug. “I was just returning the favor after he did it to me first.”

Everest’s eyes were locked on the back of their heads, his mouth hanging open. “What the hell-?” I didn’t look at him like that!

Terra startled him by jumping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Aw, he called you a pretty boy!”

He was still following their retreating forms, his eyes pinned to the one who'd eye-raped him.

“Shut up.”

She answered by slapping him upside the head and he shut his eyes. When he opened them the three were now walking past them the way they’d come, Livy in tow.

None of them-including the purple-haired one-paid him no mind.

He blinked. What was that? Terra hit him again and this time he focused on getting her off of him. She held tighter, stronger than he was from her continuation of training. “I think you should thank me...sounds like you have a new admirer.”

Everest shrugged her off and tried his best to cover his red ears. “Yeah, no thanks.”

“Awwww, I think you like him, too!”

“I do not!”

“Then why are you blushing?” she teased. She pinched his ear lobe and he grabbed her arms, ready to flip her over his head. A move he’d actually mastered while in training.

She sensed the attack and released instantly, laughing like she’d discovered the funniest thing in the whole wide world.

He spun and glared at her. “I’m not blushing- I’m mad.”

She grinned. “Oh, yeah?”

Everest looked up at the ceiling and ran a hand over his shaved head. “Forget it.” He wasn’t about to repeat the entire encounter, especially the part about him being looked at like he was a piece of cake. “I’m over today,” he grumbled, storming down the hall.

Evie’s voice stopped him. “Hey guys, wait up!”

Everest looked over his shoulder and saw Evie all the way down the hall, his attention diverted from the boy as he focused on her, asking-

“Why is Evie wearing glasses?”

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Evie lifted the rectangular frames close to her face. “You sure these won’t hurt my eyes?”

Didi, Evie’s only friend outside of Terra and Everest, twirled her short black hair with a finger. “I mean...there’s a possibility you might experience some discomfort since they do have a slight prescription, but...”

“But what?” Evie lowered the glasses and looked down at Didi whose own large round frames complemented her soft round face and dark brown eyes. Didi shrugged and looked away.

“Let’s just say you should probably not wear them for too long.”

“Why not?”

Didi adjusted the sleeve of her black skater dress and sounded nervous when she responded. “My mom said it’s possible to damage your eyesight if you wear lenses not meant for you,” she muttered. Evie flipped the glasses around and tried to see through the lenses, already feeling the strain making her squint.

“Hmm...”

“You know what?” said Didi, trying to grab the glasses from her. “How about I just bring you the fake frames tomorrow and you wear those instead. . .”

Evie jerked the glasses away with a loud gasp. “I can’t wait until tomorrow! Steven is finally in all of my classes. I only have today to get him to notice me!”

“You’re being melodramatic,” countered Didi. “I still don’t get why you like him, anyway. There are much better specimens here than Steven.”

Evie knew Didi was referring to her undying love for Everest. The one person Evie would never see the way she did. “I already told you,” she said, holding the glasses high when Didi attempted to grab them again. “Steven is perfect.” It wasn’t just that he was perfect. He was normal. A human boy with no desire for her blood. The boy who’d saved her from bullies after she’d joined the same middle school as Terra and Everest. She’d never gotten to thank him for it. Or tell him how she felt. And she planned to change that, starting today.

Shaking off her dazed thoughts she grinned. “Anyway, it’s time for class.”

“Evie... Evie,\ come back here!” Evie heard the frustrated yell of Didi as she slipped on the glasses over her ears and sprinted down the hall.

Evie looked over her shoulder to wave at a blurry Didi-

slamming into someone’s back.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Hatchet stared at all of the students.

Despicable. Every single one of them. He took a shallow breath at the stench rising off of them, regretting breathing at all. Hot garbage on a summer day was preferable to the overwhelming mesh of scents attacking him in the overcrowded hallway.

At least the humans made it easier for him to keep himself in check. There was no way he'd be tempted to feed from any of them now.

He felt someone stop next to him. "If you keep glaring they’ll think you want to kill them."

Hatchet's gaze remained pinned to the crowd. "Good."

August snorted and Hatchet caught him shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. “Remember...we’re trying to blend in. Not make it obvious so the GARD comes for us.”

“Let them come,” he said, his expression hardening. “I will be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

“Now, now Henry,” quipped September, dragging out the syllables of Hatchet’s alias slowly. “You should relax. It’s the first day of school together, after all! We should be celebrating!”

Hatchet ignored him. “I won’t relax until I’ve done what I came here to do-” which might be easier said than done.

The crowd of students grew the closer the first bell was supposed to ring, and Hatchet could feel their eyes on him, their colors around them flashing from blue to pink or green. From happy to excited to envious. He struggled against the sudden shifts, his eyes closing when a wave of dizziness hit him.

Being in the dark room all those years had thrown his senses off and a week back into the light and fresh air hadn’t been enough. Another reason I need to find her. To make her suffer as soon as possible for what she did to me.

Taking a small breath despite the stench Hatchet opened his eyes and searched for the reason he’d woken up early and went to a human school. Succumbing to September’s very chipper self. Hatchet was not, nor will he ever be, a morning person. And the sooner he was done with his search he could go back to never waking up this early again.

He scanned the hall for any sign of large hazel eyes and soft curls, the only thing he could clearly remember about her, yet found nothing. The five students who’d attempted to break into his home had spilled everything after August and September tasted their blood. About how a girl named Evangeline lived with Everest and Terra Carlan. That she’d only been around since she was in middle school. And no one knew her about where she came from or why.

None of their babbling meant much to Hatchet until the one named Livy uttered “Carlan”.

There were certain details about the night of the raid that never altered or faded like everything else had. Evie’s empty, hazel eyes were one of them. And the name embroidered in black thread on the left breast of the olive green uniforms of the two GARD members who dropped down from the shattered glass ceiling first: CARLAN.

It was the last thing he’d seen in the hall before he’d grabbed Evie’s hand and flashed them down the hall. Before she’d stabbed him in the back and left him to die. It couldn’t be a coincidence the same people who’d raided his family home now had custody of a girl named Evangeline. The same name as Evie’s.

Which was why he and his brothers were now attending school. If what the teenagers said was true then this would be their best bet in finding both Evie and their attackers. And the easiest place to take them down.

A girl with slick brown hair came towards them with a smile and returned him to the present. “Hi babe!”

“Ah, Livy my love,” cooed September, turning his head when she kissed his cheek.

Hatchet and August both shot dirty looks at September who seemed to enjoy the attention. He patted Livy on top of the head and she giggled, September coming just a hair taller than she was.

“babe,” she admonished with a flush of pleasure, Hatchet rolling his eyes. “You’re embarrassing me.”

This was not what he’d meant when he’d said to keep the humans who’d tried breaking in close to them. “So you’re dating now,” drawled Hatchet, glaring at his youngest brother.

September grinned. “As of this morning. Now, don’t be jealous,” he pouted, placing an arm around Livy’s small shoulders. “I’m sure your someone is here, too... someone who is pink and round, like a little piggy. Who knows? Maybe she’s right around the corner-”

Hatchet stepped forward to punch September in his obnoxious mouth when a girl barreled into his back, her hair swinging as she shot him an apologetic smile while pushing past him. He glared murderously as she waved, her large glasses slipping down her slightly pointed nose. "My bad!"

Hatchet’s fiery gaze followed after her, dusting off his zip up sweater the way September had done not just five minutes ago. “Well, it’s definitely not her-”

his eyes widened as a faint glimmer of gold shimmered over the girl. His brows knitted together. No... it can’t be.

September lifted his head and laughed, breaking Hatchet’s focus on the girl who’d come to a stop in front of the one who’d bumped into September and a girl who resembled him, their coffee skin and angular features nearly identical.

"I think I'm in love," sighed September. "Maybe she'll be a nice addition to my growing collection."

August cut him off. "Shut up, Rem. It's Henry's first day. No need to rile him up."

Hatchet looked back at the girl as September demanded, “why did I get such a lame name?”

“Because you were too busy playing around with your new toys to bother coming up with one yourself.”

Livy interjected. “What are you boys talking about?”

September answered sharply. “Don’t worry about it, darling.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

He patted her on the head again. “Good girl.” Hatchet flashed him a menacing look when September sounded exactly like their father used to when he’d gotten his way. He didn’t have time to deal with correcting September now. Not when he was one step closer to finding Evie.

He looked back to where the girl had been before September’s degrading tone had stolen his attention. Finding she was gone.

August cleared his throat and Hatchet reluctantly looked at him. “Everything alright, Henry?”

“Everything’s fine, Gus,” he replied, his lips crooking into a smile. He saw August and September eye him like he’d lost his mind. He didn’t care though.

Because his search for Evie just got a little bit easier.

All he had to do was follow the sheen of gold.

And then she’d have nowhere to run.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Nicole plopped into the conference room chair and groaned. “Ugh!”

“Ugh!” mimicked Travis. She tried to give him a scathing look, but he caught her off guard, leaning over her head and dropping six files in front of her onto the grey office table. She lifted her head and shot him a look. “Gee, thanks a lot pal.”

Travis grinned and headed to the seat next to her. “Don’t kill the messenger-I’m just doing what I’m told to do.”

“I will kill the messenger after he volunteered me to help him.”

He gave a maniacal laugh. “Misery loves company.” he lifted his hands to block her attack with a folder. “Careful with that! It took me hours to sort through these files!”

If I didn’t think I’d have to stay after work and help him reorganize I would dump every file on the floor. But since she had no desire to spend another minute in this damn building she refrained.

Instead, she dropped it carefully to the tabletop. “Why do we have to go through these anyway? Shouldn’t this be the police’s problem now?” The missing girls had all turned up dead, drained of their blood and given something else that rotted their insides. Seeing Travis give her a patient look she added a bit vehemently, crossing her arms, “It’s a waste of time.”

“Like I already explained in my office- this is our jurisdiction because these girls were ours. Why the captains want us to go through these files is to see why they didn’t pop up on our missing list and whether there’s some connection between them and the ones who killed them.”

“I understand that, but if the captains are so worried shouldn’t they be dealing with this themselves?” After all, Nicole didn’t have a clue what she was supposed to be looking for.

Travis slowly spun in the black office chair before answering, his black wire hair messy. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this. . . but they’re a bit preoccupied after some bloods hacked our system and broke into the storage building.”

Nicole’s eyes nearly popped from her head. Bloods got their locations? “You’re shitting me. How is that remotely possible?”

“I don’t know...and they don’t either. But by the look on Carrie’s face she’s not gonna stop until she finds out.”

A pang of sympathy went to the bloods suffering at the hands of Nicole’s boss. Carrie was not a woman to trifle with. She shuddered and raised a perfectly arched brow at Travis. “Okay, so then what are we supposed to find in these? You really think there’s something in them that’s going to show us some kind of connection?”

Travis scratched the top of his head and gave a sheepish smile. “Man, I hope so... If not, we live here now.”

“This is not what I was told I’d be doing when I took this job,” she said, knowing her argument was pointless. Travis wasn’t her boss. He couldn’t change a damn thing.

“Me either,” laughed Travis. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned in my four years here it's that the captains don’t give tasks to just anyone.” She gave him a look that said- what idiot do you take me for- as he added seriously, “which means they trust you and me to get the job done.”

Damn it Travis. You know I love praise. “Fine,” she eventually acquiesced with a dramatic sigh. He brightened, making her warn, “but I’m getting coffee first.”

His face scrunched up and he let out air through his perfectly white teeth. “Oh... that’s a hard bargain. I’ll allow it if you also get me a double mocha frappe with extra whipped cream...with those little chocolate curls they sprinkle on top-”

Nicole was already out of her chair and at the door when she waved at him dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say boss.”

She got down the hall and into the elevator when his oval face popped around the conference room door, his big brown eyes hopeful. “Extra whipped cream, please!” he cried as the doors shut. She laughed when two seconds later her phone buzzed.

Travis: EXTRAAAAAAAAA

Nicole typed back:

YOU’RE EXTRAAAAAAA

As a joke she was going to ask the barista to give her a whole cup of whipped cream. She grinned and saw her reflection in the mirror, her blazer a little tight against her bust. Unbuttoning the two large black buttons down the plaid silver blazer she stepped into the busy fray of the first floor. Cops and men in business suits stood around talking and other agents dressed in casual attire headed past the security gates and toward the elevators.

Nicole hadn’t seen half of them before and it made her wonder whether they were from other cities. Maybe she could get Travis to tell her what was going on since he had more seniority in the place. Since Nicole was still nothing more but a lowly intern nobody gave her the time of day unless it was to reprimand her about her job performance.

The fact the captains were trusting her-as Travis said-with something they considered very important could only mean she was finally going to get her chance to prove she was capable of doing more than filing and office work. Like working as an agent.

Walking out of the rotating doors she was careful to keep her black pointed flats from slipping off her feet as she turned left and went to the coffee shop adjoining the glass building where headquarters was stationed.

The coffee shop was quaint, and filled with beautiful wind chimes that hung from the high ceiling, tinkling every time the glass door opened. Two lush burnt orange couches were placed up against the floor to ceiling windows with a short wooden coffee table between them. At this time in the morning it was busy, and she could barely squeeze her hourglass figure into the air conditioned shop with the long line. Baristas wearing dark navy blue aprons with gold trim rushed to get the line down, but Nicole could already tell by overhearing the customers’ orders she’d be waiting awhile.

If it wasn’t so hot out I’d just go to Starbucks up the hill. Although Nicole seriously doubted she’d find their line to be any less claustrophobic. She leaned against the door and crossed her arms.

Sorry Travis...but you’re gonna be waiting awhile for your damn whipped cream-

Her thoughts fell with a crash as she felt the solid door holding her up disappear, her feet stumbling to regain her balance before she landed on the sidewalk.

Thankfully, the person who’d opened the door saved her from that happening, an arm pushing on her shoulders to help her regain her balance.

Nicole jerked her head behind her once she was standing. “I am so sorry...” the air rushed out of her lungs in a painful gasp, her dark brown eyes staring up into the face of an angel, his dark green eyes sparkling in amusement.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he murmured. Nicole felt disappointment slip over her expression when he slid his arm away from her. “I should have been more careful.”

She shook her head slowly, blinking in a daze. “I think you stole my line.”

He smiled, revealing a dimple in his left cheek, and her heart nearly flatlined. “Why do I have a feeling we’re going to argue about who is actually at fault?”

Nicole felt her finger twirling her tightly wound curl. Sucking in a sharp breath she whipped it away and wrapped her arms around her waist, her face burning at his amused expression.

“Let me buy your coffee as an apology,” she mumbled, “and I’ll call it even.”

Her heart thrummed in her throat as he leaned close to her and grabbed the silver handle for the door. “I’ll let you buy my coffee on one condition.”

Nicole batted her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. “Depends on your condition.”

His eyes gleamed in challenge. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

She stopped breathing. There’s no way in Hell this is really happening. Nicole was pretty, sure, but she wasn’t model material. This guy though... she wouldn’t be surprised if he was found on every magazine cover. Not the type of guys-or girls- who typically went for her.

Which was why she told him the answer he wanted to hear: “I accept.” Then she held out her hand to him, his head cocking to the side in question.

“Nicole,” she said, giving him a nervous smile.

He slid his hand into hers and she couldn’t stop the small gasp from escaping her lips.

“Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah, she repeated. What a beautiful name.

SEVENTEEN

Evie squinted at the blackboard. And silently cursed her best friend.

Didi was supposed to give her the fake reading glasses to wear. Not actual prescription ones, her eyes blurring and straining against the strong lenses. It didn’t matter Didi warned her not to put them on. The deal was for her to wear them on the first day so Steven thought she needed them now, and would look cute and smart.

Evie did not feel cute. And she didn’t feel smart since she couldn’t see a darned thing. She’d take them off and cut her losses except Steven happened to be in her American history class, just three seats off to the left from her, and since she was wearing them because of him it would be dumb to remove them now. At least she was pretty sure it was him...all she could see was a blurred figure with reddish orange hair.

Terra had practically been ready to hit her when she’d run up to them and showed her new specs. "Why are you wearing glasses-scratch that-where did you get them?"

Evie had answered honestly, tensing as she’d admitted, "I learned from Didi who learned from Ashley that Steven said he likes smart girls.”

To her surprise, Terra had thrown her hands up instead of hitting her and stormed off. “I freaking can’t with you.”

She’d glanced at Everest who’d shrugged. “Good luck,” he’d said, his features getting wigglier the longer she’d stared at him. Then he’d left her, too, and she’d had to chase after Terra.

Evie had hoped Terra would have gotten over her sour mood by lunch. Terra, it turned out, was holding out. “Until you take those stupid things off, I’m not talking to you.”

“C’mon Terra, don’t be so mean,” Evie had laughed incredulously, hoping she would not look so determined to stay mad at her. To Evie’s chagrin she wasn’t budging. Now in their last class of the day Terra not only refused to talk to her but work with her, too.

When Mr. Lopes handed out the ice breaker and explained how he wanted them to start thinking about timelines and how the events of history played out, Evie had turned her pleading gaze towards her kind, forgiving sister. And got the cold shoulder.

“Terra, let’s work together.” she’d muttered so other students nearby-including Steven- wouldn’t turn around. Terra busied herself with taking the papers handed back to her by someone with very bright blue hair and refused to look at her.

Instead, she tapped the boy’s blurry shoulder and asked in her sweet-no one can say no to me- voice. “Hey, want to work together?”

The boy slowly turned his head and Evie’s heart thumped in her chest. You traitor!

She heard Terra suck in a quick breath as he answered in a yawn. “Sure...why not?”

Evie bared her teeth at her. Fine... I’ll just ask Steven-

“Hey, Steven! Want to work together?” Livy had beat her to it, flicking her long brown hair behind her shoulder. She watched in horror when he gave a hazy nod before she clamped her eyes shut against the growing pounding behind her eyes.

Slowly, Evie heard everyone around her working with someone, Mr. Lopes clapping loudly and telling all of them- “Find a partner fast. You don’t want to waste time in completing this by the end of class.”

She could feel the triumphant expression on Terra’s face when she glanced her way. “I think the person behind you doesn’t have a partner.” she said to add salt to the already cut open wound.

Evie’s heart thumped violently in her chest. But I hate talking to new people...

Someone behind her cleared their throat. “Can I have my paper please?” he said, irritation evident in his tone.

She winced and scrambled to hand back his paper. “Sorry about that.” He ripped it from her fingers and she hunched herself over her desk, her face flaming. Yeah...I think I’ll just work alone.

The person behind her poked her roughly in the back and she jerked her head over her shoulder at him, her head spinning from the blurred vision. “Are you going to work with me or not?” he demanded, his voice raspy.

Evie reacted immediately, something about his tone boding no argument. Her forehead creased as she grabbed her paper and turned around in her chair. That’s weird... I feel like I just got scolded. Even her teachers didn’t make her so nervous.

Mumbling an apology, she faced him and saw he was sitting up straight, his arms crossed. Even with the lenses Evie could feel the look of disdain on his face. “Um.. we should start, right?” she stammered, hoping if they started working he’d be less hostile. She shot Terra a dirty look from the corner of her eye. This is why I don’t talk to new people. To avoid uncomfortable encounters like this.

He remarked crisply. “No one is stopping you.”

Evie’s brows rose in surprise. Wow, this guy is a gem. “Um...okay then. I guess the first question asks...what your name is. So...what’s yours?”

He made a sound that was half a snort and half a sound of disgust. “Are you expecting to remember all the answers?”

“Huh?” Evie glanced down at the paper in her hands and jumped. “Oh!” She needed a pen. Before she could scramble to find one a sudden black worm was in front of her face.

“Take it,” he drawled.

Evie lifted a shaky hand up to grab it yet missed. “Oops,” she laughed, embarrassed. He moved it so it was in her grip and sighed. “This better be worth my time,” he muttered to himself.

“Okay,” said Evie brightly, hoping to finish this ice breaker and never speak to this kid again. “So, now that I have a pen to write, what’s your name?”

“What’s yours?”

I asked first. “Evangeline,” she answered from the commanding tone. She saw his eyes narrow and it looked like a demon was about to shed from his skin. Closing her eyes again, she placed her pen on the paper, asking again. “What’s yours-”

“How old are you?” he interrupted brusquely, his question catching her off guard. “What?” that isn’t one of the questions, is it? Evie lifted the paper closer to her face and squinted. Dang...I can’t tell...“Um, I don’t think that’s on here...”

“You don’t think?” he repeated wryly. Then he leaned forward. “Are you telling me you don’t know how to read?”

She countered indignantly to his accusatory tone. “Of course I do-” just not while I have these glasses on. Something waved in front of her eyes and she had to shut them, her features tensing from the throbbing near her temples. Remember Steven. Remember this will be worth it when he falls in love with you. . .

The glasses slipped off of her face and she blinked profusely, staring blurrily at the boy. “W-what are you doing?” She squinted and saw him hand them to someone sitting to his left.

Terra swung the glasses around by the stem. “That’s better.” To the boy she smiled. “Now she might actually get her work done.”

Evie blinked profusely from the boy to Terra, her mouth gaping open in betrayal. “Give them back.”

The boy Terra was working with lifted his head from his propped up palm. “I’m confused.”

“She doesn’t need them. They’re a disguise.”

“How about you worry about your own partner?” Evie snapped.

Terra clasped her hands together and rested her chin on steepled fingers, glasses trapped in between. “I’m sorry, Gus...you were saying you think the Revolutionary War goes before the French Indian War?” She smiled sweetly at her partner and ignored Evie’s indignant look.

My own sister...betraying me like this. She stared at Terra, helpless, feeling the boy’s eyes on her.

He was still blurry, but his features were now more defined without the glasses.

His mouth crooked upward, laughing at her. “You were wearing fake glasses?”

She puffed her cheeks at the mocking tone he used. “That’s none of your business-” Evie fell off into a harsh gasp as he leaned forward on his desk, his dark eyes locking on her and freezing her to the spot. He stared so hard she felt her lungs stop contracting, the air trapped in her throat as he hummed.

Then he murmured. “Henry,” his voice sending pleasant chills up her back.

Huh? He tapped the paper on his desk and switched back to sounding irritated. “Hurry up and write it down. We’re far behind now because of you.” Pushing back into the dark red chair, he returned to crossing his arms, his expression unreadable.

She was still working at clearing the blurriness from her eyesight when she muttered, “I’m pretty sure it was both of our faults,” she began, frustrated, her vision getting perceptibly clearer and his face coming in more focused.

She wrote down his name on the line asking for her partner and then looked back up. “Okay, next question...”

Evie blinked one more time and finally saw the boy in front of her, her eyes widening of their own volition and her mouth parting.

Henry the mean boy was...beautiful.

Evie took in his high cheekbones and slender nose, the bowed lips mocking and promising dark things to come. But it was his eyes that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from, the charcoal grey blending with specks of red and watching her so intently it made her feel both precious and helpless. Something she hadn’t felt since she’d lived a different life.

Staring at him Evie couldn’t shake the familiarity between the boy from her past and the one now. Like a deja vu she was certain she’d seen before.

There was only one person who’d ever looked at her that way. And he had died long ago.

Before she shook off the trembling working its way up her spine, he leaned forward and whispered so low only she heard the words. And the blood in her veins slicked to ice.

“Silly girl.”

Evie’s heart stopped beating. Hatchet? She shook her head. No…no, there’s no way.

Her doubt argued back:

Only Hatchet called me that. Only Hatchet had that eye color. Only Hatchet had that self-assured look. She scrambled out of her seat, her attention transfixed to him as Mr. Lopes cleared his throat. “Is something going on?”

Evie heard Terra’s harsh whisper- “What is wrong with you?” but she couldn’t answer. Couldn’t break her petrified look away from him.

His lips crooked up higher, his eyes narrowing.

Then the bell rang. And Evie turned and fled.

Running away from ghosts.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

“I’ll ask you again...how did you break in?”

Carrie sipped her coffee and leaned up against the surgical table next to the triple plated steel door.

It had been the same routine for almost a week now. Come to work, check for missed calls, sign off on orders for agents, stop in the kitchen attached to the office and make a fresh cup of black coffee in the beige paper cups. Then head for the elevator where she’d hit the button for the basement floor-straight to the interrogation room with the blood who’d gotten into their safehouse.

The three guards on duty today stood at the ready around the slumped person in the metal chair, waiting for her command.

Today Carrie planned on getting him to talk. No matter what.

She placed down the paper cup and grabbed a thin clear vial filled with a black liquid. “I’ve already taken care of your other two friends because they weren’t very forthcoming. You on the other hand,” she said calmly, shaking the vial so he would hear it, “I’ve kept you alive because I can sense your weakness.”

A hoarse laugh escaped from the one in the chair. “You’ve been torturing me for days and I still haven’t said shit. You call that weakness?”

Carrie let out a small laugh. “You think what we’ve been doing to you is torture? That was nothing but a simple interrogation. A little bloodletting to keep you docile-”

“Hey, how’s the girl doing?”

Carrie stopped. “I’m sorry?”

He continued, his expression mocking. “Don’t play dumb...the cute agent I was interrogating in the tunnel. You know- doing a little bloodletting to keep her docile,” he repeated, laughing when she gave him a murderous look.

He continued, Carrie’s nostril’s flaring, “Now that I think about it, she sort of resembles you... except she’s prettier...or is it was? I did hit her hard enough to crack a couple bones here and there-”

“-all of my recruits are fine,” grounded out Carrie. “No thanks to you.”

The blood wasn’t finished taunting, his look becoming manic. “Come on, cap’n. You know better than to lie to someone like me. Don’t worry...I won’t hit her again. I’ll just bring her flowers, blood’s promise-”

Carrie had heard enough. She caught one of the guard’s eyes and nodded. They jumped to action, one pressing down on his shoulders and the other snapping his head back by a handful of his black hair, exposing his neck.

He gritted his sharp teeth together and his smile fell into a snarl.

Giving a curt nod the other guard pushed down on the metal cuffs securing his arms just below the crook of his elbow, a gargled cry emanating from the blood’s mouth as thousands of tiny barbed metal pieces stuck farther into his skin.

The chair had been the best invention created by Travis. With so many slivers of metal in his flesh he wouldn’t be able to heal and break out like others had in other steel chairs used in the past.

Knowing for certain he wouldn’t be able to escape, Carrie unscrewed the cap to the vial and moved to the surgical table where their special blade sat. Seeing it the blood fought against the guards holding him, air escaping him even though he didn’t have to breathe the way humans do.

“You know, I wanted to do this the easy way. But because you and your two friends thought you were better, stronger, and faster -thinking you can get away with whatever the hell you want- why not up the stakes a little?” She slowly dipped the barbed metal into the vial and swirled the blade around, making sure to coat every single sliver. “You used to be mostly invincible, too, but those days are over. Now that we have this...”

Taking a step forward she saw the eyes of the blood flood with fear and lust for her death.

“You won’t talk? Well, I’m about to show you what happens when my patience has run thin.”

Taking out the knife she let the droplets of the liquid fall onto his skin and waited. A second later his mouth struggled to open, emanating a muffled scream as the droplets ate away at his skin.

She waited until he got his pain under control before leaning close, letting more drops fall onto his exposed neck.

“You’re going to regret ever messing with the GARD,” she informed him quietly, ignoring his whimpering. “and more importantly... I want you to know that everything you’re about to go through today, tomorrow, for as long as I decide to keep your worthless existence alive,” she whispered, his shrieks falling into harsh whimpers as he gave her a hateful look, “ it’s because you made the mistake of going after my daughter.”

His eyes widened right before she plunged the blade into his neck, his howl echoing loudly while his skin sizzled and turned black around the knife.

She ripped it out and watched with emotionless eyes as he choked on his own blood and poison.

Carrie took a proffered wipe from the guard next to her and cleaned her hands.

“Take your time with this one,” she commanded sharply, her heels clacking as she went to grab her coffee. Without looking back, she pushed open the steel door and ordered.

“I want him to suffer.”

EIGHTEEN

Damnit Evie, this is ridiculous...even for you.

Terra had already searched the first floor’s bathrooms-men’s and women’s- for Evie after she’d run out of the classroom like a psycho off her meds. And that was after Terra had grilled the new kid who she’d been working with, demanding what he’d said or done to her to make her so upset.

The boy, however, had given her a blank stare, shaking his head and saying he just told her his name and that she should write it down on her paper.

Terra wasn’t stupid. Something clearly happened between the two of them for Evie to embarrass herself like that when Steven was in the room. To look that afraid.

Gus, her partner in class and the boy who sits in front of her had apologized on behalf of Henry, who apparently was his older brother, and had offered to help Terra find Evie to make sure she was okay.

She’d brushed him off and tried to make it clear through her clipped tone she wasn’t interested before packing up Evie’s things and leaving to find her wayward sister.

Terra wanted to tell him she didn’t need a knight in shining armor. That was proven when she’d easily defeated three bloods not a week before school started. She had completely incapacitated them after they’d managed to find the safehouse and break in, their goal to take some kind of artifact her parents had gotten when they’d eradicated the Rose clan several years ago. Not only had she kept them from getting it, she’d alerted the GARD of the attack, the agents arriving in time to take the bloods into custody for questioning before they’d healed and attempted a second strike.

If she could do that and come out unscathed then she could find Evie on her own.

But Gus, apparently, didn’t know how to take a hint. Terra came to a stop as he jogged down the hall, his dark blue hair shining in the light overhead and his soft emerald eyes warming when they saw her.

“Hey,” he called out in a smooth deep voice. “Any luck?’

She lifted her chin and gave him a cold look, holding it even when her heart began to beat a little bit faster when he came to a stop in front of her.

The boy was tall and well defined. That was for sure. Yet that wasn’t new for Terra. Nero and Mark were also well-defined and Mark was at least 6’2”. Remembering her partners in her unit she shook off the memory of the recent attack at the warehouse, thankful somehow they all came out alive and mostly unharmed.

Gus must have caught the flash of fear in her eyes because he commented softly, “don’t worry...we’ll find her.”

His concern bothered her. We? There is no we. “Look, I appreciate you offering to help and all but it’s fine. I got it.” She didn’t mean for her tone to sound so clipped and almost felt a pang of remorse as his thick brows rose on his clear forehead, his sleepy look becoming downcast.

Then he responded with a laugh. “I don’t think I could go home and not think about how my idiot brother upset your sister and now you’re stuck here searching through the whole school.” Terra opened her mouth to shut him down when he clapped his hands together and expelled a breath. “So, what floor do you want me to take?”

He looked at her expectantly, and Terra recognized the look of new recruits waiting for their orders. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling and took in a calming breath hoping it would ease her temper. “If you’re really going to insist on helping then you take the left side of the second floor and I’ll take the right.”

He smiled, and waited until she walked past him to catch up. “You got it.”

They took the stairs, Terra’s high-tops squeaking on the rubber mats on the edge of each step to protect students and teachers from slipping. She clenched her teeth together to stop herself from cussing him out, angry that she somehow lost even though there was nothing to lose in the first place.

“So, I guess this might sound like a silly question, but what’s your sister’s name?”

Terra shot him a look as they made it to the second floor and he explained with a sympathetic smile. “I’m gonna need it when I call for her in the bathrooms.”

“It’s Evangeline.”

His eyes rose in appreciation. “That’s a really cool name.” Terra gave a curt nod and went to turn down the hall when he asked curiously, “is there any nickname she might have that she’ll answer to instead?”

“Just Evangeline,” she remarked coolly. Storming down the hall she felt his eyes on her back, whipping her head over her shoulder to glare.

Yet he was gone.

Breathing in to calm both her nerves and anger she quickened her steps, muttering. “Evangeline... where the heck are you hiding?”

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she pulled it out to answer it. “Hello?”

“Where are you, ugly? I’ve been waiting in the parking lot for five minutes.”

Terra clicked her tongue at Everest. “Keep waiting. I’m looking for Evangeline after she ran out of our class like she saw a ghost.”

Everest went silent. “What do you mean you’re looking for her?”

Terra growled into the phone. “Obviously what I just said, idiot-”

“No,” he interrupted, annoyed. “I mean you’re looking for her but she’s not there.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she just texted and said she has work. And why would she still be in the school if the bell rang?” asked Everest in bewilderment.

Terra dropped her head and rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. “Everest... Evie doesn’t work on Tuesdays.”

“Huh? Well, maybe she had to go in today- shit.”

Terra nodded in confirmation as if he could see it. “Damn it.” Terra knew exactly where Evie was headed, and it wasn’t her job. She spun on her faded white shoes and sprinted down the hall. “I’m coming now...”

She came to a halt. Gus. He was still helping her search for Evie.

Shaking her head, she told Everest crisply, “I’ll be out in five minutes.” She hung up on him before he had the chance to argue. Breaking into a sprint again she ran down the hall and avoided the students who were still inside the building, searching for blue hair. Getting around the corner and racing down to the end of the hall Terra called out his name. “Gus!”

She ducked her head inside the boys bathroom and even the girls, but he was nowhere. She huffed. “Where the hell did you go?”

Something touched her shoulder and she spun around, ready to go on the offensive. Gus stood behind her and gave a small wave. “Sorry...I didn’t mean to spook you.”

She lowered her arms that had jerked into an attack stance. “It’s fine,” she lied, taking in a steadying breath at his closeness. Moving her foot back for distance, she crossed her arms. “I just wanted to let you know my sister went to work already. So our search is over.”

“Ah, that explains why we didn’t find her.” Terra narrowed her eyes at him for the sardonic comment, yet his expression looked more teasing than mocking. He gave a half shrug. “At least you know she’s safe now, right?”

Did I ever think she wasn’t? Something about his comment rankled her, but then he added in a placating tone. “Sorry, you just looked really worried about her, and I relate to that. My brothers are pains in my asses, but I’d do everything I could to find them if they went missing, too.”

A sadness passed over his features and it made her not want to lash out at him as much. Yet that could change at any minute, so she started to back away. “Well, thanks again for looking for no one apparently,” she said with a snort. “My brother’s waiting outside so I should head out...”

“Anytime, Terra,” he said almost shyly. “See you tomorrow?”

Her heart thumped as she took another step back. “Yeah...sure.”

She walked at a brisk pace to the stairwell and refused to turn her head back to see if he was watching her, a feat she almost didn’t complete. When she got to the landing she felt a sick sensation attack her stomach. She frowned.

And prayed she wasn’t coming down with a virus.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Hatchet stood at the window and waited.

Searching for anyone coming up the winding stone path to reach the double red-doors.

I’m not waiting for just anyone, he corrected. I’m waiting for her.

He clasped his hands behind his back to control the nervous buzz sending tremors down to his fingertips, thinking about how close he was to exacting his revenge.

The girl from school had to be Evie, her reaction after she’d taken off those stupid looking glasses and seen what was in front of her making her large hazel eyes widen too much to be just because of his looks. It had been obvious he was someone she recognized, her pulse spiking so abruptly like she’d just found the monster hiding under her bed after all these years.

If that wasn’t enough of a confirmation it was her sharp inhale when he’d called her a silly girl that set the icing on the cake. His once favorite nickname for his two-faced companion.

Hatchet had thought about this moment since he’d woken up in the room. Of the fear that would swallow her bright eyes and the cowering she’d do once she’d realized her plan to murder him had failed.

When she’d run out of the room, he’d nearly been unable to control himself from flashing to grab her before she’d even have a chance to open her lying mouth and scream. He must have smiled a little too smug because the girl who’d interrupted them talking had spun in her chair and demanded what he’d done to her.

“Nothing,” he’d replied casually. Then when she’d gotten up and grabbed both her and Evangeline’s stuff, running out the room, Hatchet had chuckled, and finished with “yet.”

The thoughts he had of what he wanted to do to her...Of making her suffer for days...weeks...years...just like she’d done to him made his teeth grit from impatience, his focus locked on the curving stone walkway until she showed up.

When she does come, I need to check one last thing...

Hatchet didn’t intend to waste time on the wrong girl. He’d have to taste her blood. Because blood never changed. And no one had ever been close to tasting the way hers did.

The memory made his throat ache in thirst. Angry, he clicked his tongue. Where is she?

Patience, Hatchet discovered, was not much of his strong suit anymore. Still, he’d have to be patient once she was at his mercy. It would really suck if he’d killed her much too quickly for her to enjoy all the things he had planned for her-

Something that might be happening sooner than I anticipated.

A creak at the end of the hall made him go still. His ears picked up the tempo of a thrumming heart-the perfect tempo for someone who’d learned the truth of their failure.

Blood rushed from fear at the sight of him and he held the breath he didn’t need to hold as he listened for the high-pitched feminine voice to call out to him. To confirm he wasn’t dead like she’d wanted.

For a pause, silence fell over the only two in the hall. Then a throat cleared.

“Uh...Mr. Hatchet sir...you gotta visitor downstairs.”

Hatchet’s expectations crashed and burned as he expelled the breath. “Damn it.” He glanced coldly at the owner of the raspy man’s voice and saw Jackie lift his hands close to his face, wincing. “Why are you up here on this floor, human? Do I have to kill you already since you are incapable of following my very strict instructions and fixing your mess?”

Hatchet realized by the color draining from Jackie’s face his threat sounded more like a promise. He lowered his head and made a sound of irritation, trying to reign in his disappointment. “Relax. I’m not going to kill you-”

Only Evie deserves that honor.

Hatchet was not his father. He wasn’t going to kill humans the way his father did whenever a human’s usefulness ended, draining their bodies of blood and heaping them into a pile to throw over the cliffs like trash.

Jackie’s heart rate didn’t slow at the reassurance. “I-I was working hard, but I needed a drink of water from the kitchen...and then the doorbell rang...so I answered it...and he said he had an appointment with you-” he made a loud whimper when Hatchet flashed to stand in front of him, towering and intimidating.

He pulled back a little. “An appointment, hm?” with a thoughtful frown he muttered, “I don’t recall having any meetings with anyone...”

“Y-your brother did say maybe the property manager might come by...”

Ah...that’s right. August had mentioned he called the people who bought their property and they’d probably want to speak in person.

He brushed past Jackie. “You can return to work now, human. Depending on how this appointment goes and my inspection of your progress I may change my mind and let you live.”

Hatchet stopped when he heard Jackie mutter-

“I saved your life..the least you can do is be a little bit more grateful...” he jumped in a yelp and froze when Hatchet appeared right behind him.

He whispered close to his ear. “My gratitude is displayed in the fact you are still alive and not drained of all your blood. Perhaps I have been too grateful towards you and should just end your measly life-I do hate having things held over my head. . .”

Jackie let out a bark of nervous laughter. “N-no, that’s fine! Don’t mind me! It’s just the mutterings of an old fool.”

Hatchet heard the rush of blood in his veins, his heart practically buzzing in his chest. He fought back a smile at how easy it was to mess with him. Something he hadn’t enjoyed doing since he was a kid and had Evie as his companion.

The reminder of her soured his good mood and he growled. “Keep your mutterings to yourself and get back to work before I decide you’re no use to me.”

Jackie stuttered. “Y-y-ou g-g-got it b-b-boss.”

He didn’t give another second of his time to the bumbling man, now desperate to leave the memories bombarding him behind.

Even now she still tries to trick me. He ran a hand through his shortened black hair that was still not fully healthy and clicked his tongue. He had to get his shit together before she did show up -and she would- so he wouldn’t react without thinking.

Or fall for her tricks again.

Thinking about how to guard himself against her, he didn’t notice the person standing in the foyer until he was four steps away from the landing. The young man had his hands in the pockets of tweed slacks, the white button up a perfect contrast to his olive skin and his short dark blonde hair. He was looking around the entrance hall when Hatchet stumbled to a halt, his hand locked on the handrail and his teeth baring from the waves of power emanating from the young man. Knowing before he said a word who now stood in his home.

The young man must have felt the stare, turning shrewd emerald eyes towards him.“So, the rumors are true...November Lamia lives.”

Hatchet didn’t sweat like humans, but he could have sworn he felt a drop slip down the back of his neck at the sight of his visitor, a ghost that should have stayed dead, after his father ordered their demise.

Hatchet rasped. “Rose.”

The man’s lips tilted dangerously upward, confirming Hatchet’s fear. “Jeremiah Rose, to be exact.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. Hatchet felt his features tense, his mind running with a thousand thoughts making it difficult to stay calm. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. Why wouldn’t his family’s greatest enemy aside from the GARD and Evie be back from the dead as well-wanting to avenge his family by demanding retribution from Hatchet and his brothers for his father’s sins?

No... I don’t have time to deal with this right now. I can’t protect my family while in this condition. While I’m still so weak.

The idea of his brothers getting involved in the crossfire because he was unable to do his job as the head of the Lamia clan made the hand not holding onto the railing clench into a fist. He couldn’t sense August or September anywhere near the mansion which might mean if he could keep the Rose scum occupied long enough they’d sense the danger. And get to safety.

Even if it meant him having to die in the process.

Jeremiah took one step forward with his polished Oxfords and Hatchet readied for his imminent attack. Yet Jeremiah merely chuckled. “Please don’t look so nervous, Mr. November. . . I’m not here to kill you.” Then as an afterthought, “if that was my intention, you’d already be long dead.”

Hatchet knew he wasn’t being patronizing in order to get a rise out of him. There had been a good reason his father had been secretly terrified of the Rose clan and their power. Why Lord November had made it his mission when he’d been alive to have them eliminated. Their gifts were magnified in comparison to the Lamia's watered-down blood. Closer to the original Night realm dating back thousands of years. As close to pureblood as Nightrealm could get so that their speed, strength, stamina would never be in the same sphere as Hatchet’s. Compared to them he was no better than a human. And just as helpless.

But Hatchet couldn’t let Jeremiah know he was aware of the power distance. Unlike his father he would not quiver in terror just by their mere presence.

Lifting his head and meeting Jeremiah’s amused look straight on, he replied as harshly as he could, “I guess it would be foolish of me to ask how you knew I was alive. . . or be surprised that you are when I had been presumed dead only a week ago.”

Jeremiah gave a slow nod and tucked his hands further in his pockets. “Let’s just say I have eyes and ears everywhere. You’d be amazed at how useful humans can be when they are so desperate to live.”

An image of Jackie flashed through his mind and he shook off his paranoia. There was no way the older man had known he was in the wall. No one had.

Jeremiah continued on easily, taking another lazy step closer. Hatchet watched his every move, not moving an inch in case it was seen as retaliation. “As to how I’m still alive...well, I think you have seen firsthand the haphazard job the GARD does in cleaning up their messes. Just like you and your brothers are alive and well, so are my siblings. No thanks to your family, of course.”

His slow beating heart nearly stopped. There’s more of them? Moving to Spain didn’t sound as bad to Hatchet anymore. After he got Evie, they could leave this side of the world for good-

If Jeremiah really didn’t plan to kill him right now, anyway.

Seeing the darkening gaze, his concerns that this was going to be a Don Juan situation felt a little too real for his liking. “Is that why you’re here? You want to pick up right where our fathers left off and end the feud once and for all?”

Jeremiah lifted his head and laughed. “Silly boy… we both know it wouldn’t be a fight at all if that's what I truly desired.” He smiled when Hatchet tensed, his words meant to belittle him. Succeeding.

Hatchet unlocked his hand on the handrail and crossed his arms, the look of sheer arrogance a mask to cover what he was actually feeling. “How about you get to it then: if you’re not here to kill me or to wage a war between our clans then what the hell do you want?”

Jeremiah gave a silent puff of laughter and wagged a finger towards him. “You know, the way you look right now I can actually see the resemblance between you and your late father. The same stoic bravado no matter the threat-”

Hatchet interrupted sharply. “Get to your point or get off my property.” He stood his ground, waiting for the possible repercussion of showing such disrespect to his superior, yet Jeremiah merely laughed again, his perfect white teeth glistening in the chandelier’s glow.

“Very well then. I do have to get ready for a date, so I’ll get to it.”

He slowly strolled away from Hatchet and walked back to the middle of the hall, his eyes taking in everything around him like he was perusing artifacts in a museum.

“Our parents were not very smart. They fought each other for power and control when they should have gone after our common enemy instead. Yet power blinded them,” he sighed, taking another step. “And in the end it was their undoing. Quite poetic, if you think about it. What they desired the most ended up being what destroyed them. I don’t know about you, but I do not wish to have a repeat of history and share their fates. . . do you?”

No, Hatchet did not. “I do not care to continue a feud that they commenced,” he answered honestly.

Jeremiah turned. “Neither do my siblings and I have any desire to harm you and you brothers,” he finished, smiling.

This relieved Hatchet. Not that he’d admit that out loud. “I suppose you expect me to thank you now.”

“As a matter of fact, yes. . . but not in words.”

Hatchet’s eyes narrowed. “Not in words?”

Jeremiah’s smile slipped into a contemplative frown and Hatchet couldn’t stop a shudder at what he said next. “I do have a reason for speaking with you. And it isn’t just to extend the olive branch, Mr. November. . .”

Hatchet interrupted again. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t call me by that name. I go by Hatchet now.”

Jeremiah’s brows rose. Then he nodded. “Mr. Hatchet, then. As I was saying, I think it is time the Lamias and Roses casted our differences aside and go after the human trash who are out to destroy our kind. My family has already infiltrated their ranks. But I’m afraid we do not have the army needed to attack them, and we are finding it difficult recruiting Nightrealm since the population has dwindled after the raids on our family homes. Since your clan has always been close allies with the Mora clan it is my sincere hope you will help us by uniting your clan and Prince Zed’s, and then working together with my family, ridding this world of the GARD once and for all.”

Hatchet found himself speechless. This was exactly what he’d asked his brothers to help him accomplish merely a week ago. But that was before they’d gotten closer to getting Evie and the people who’d helped kill his family. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I’d rather have to say thank you to you than what you’re asking of me.”

“Saying it would only hurt your pride as I do not care for it.”

Hatchet’s jaw clenched. “Why haven’t you just gone to Prince Zed yourself to ask him to help you? I don’t even know the guy...”

“You may not know him, but you are the head of the Lamia clan now, Mr. Novem-Hatchet,” he corrected when Hatchet began to glare. “As the head you are responsible to continue these alliances. To show you are capable of leading efficiently and effectively. . . unlike your father.”

Hatchet bared his teeth at him, but not because of the jab to his dead father. It was from this conversation. Something wasn’t adding up.

Jeremiah’s expression didn’t look guarded or show any signs of lying. Yet his easy going manner was a little too friendly. Especially after their families had hated each other for generations.

Call it the curse of his father’s paranoia rooted deeply within him or that the one person he trusted more than life itself had betrayed him...he wasn’t going to be so easily taken in by the olive branch after all the bad blood that stained it.

He wouldn’t be a fool twice.

“You said I’m the head of the Lamia clan...and I need to make the tough decisions.”

“That is correct.”

Hatchet straightened his bony shoulders. “Then I’m going to make the decision and decline your invitation.”

“Oh?”

With a resolute look, Hatchet forced his feet down the rest of the steps. “You’re right: I am not my father. My father was easily fooled by flawless speeches and false white flags. I am not him, Mr. Jeremiah Rose, nor do I intend to be.” Refusing to not break eye contact as Jeremiah watched him, amused, he went on, facing him down. “He trusted the GARD to destroy your family and didn’t think it would ever come back to bite him in the ass. Thankfully, I’m not as stupid as him. Thinking you and your family won’t do the same to mine the second we think we’re safe is a mistake-one I don’t intend on making.

“And you needing us to get Prince Zed on your side confirms that your family plays dirty. I may not have met him personally, but I do know of him, and he upholds our customs and laws to the letter, unlike your father who tried to create an army of human vampires- yes, I have heard the stories. It was your family that brought the GARD’s attention back onto us after we’d been living peacefully and quietly for over a hundred years. You may have more power than us but that does not mean you deserve to be respected when you show such a blatant disregard for our kind and shame our lineage by trying to play God.”

The hall fell silent and Hatchet heard the echo of his raised voice. He swallowed down the embarrassment at his losing control and looked at Jeremiah for signs of rescinding his offering of peace. His expression was unreadable, and Hatchet mentally prepared himself for the worst.

Jeremiah hummed. “I see some prejudices go deeper than I realized. Very well, Mr. Hatchet. I have said what I came to say and now I’ll leave you to mull it over. Before I go, I did forget to mention a little tidbit of information which might sway you to reconsider. . . “

Like anything could make me reconsider such a loaded offer. “I’m sure there isn’t.”

“We shall see,” murmured Jeremiah, a secret smile dancing on his lips. He walked slowly until he stood only inches away from Hatchet, their height matching. Hatchet straightened his shoulders to look stronger than he was at the moment, but Jeremiah’s next words broke his act into jagged pieces.

“As the current owner of your family home, it’s been brought to my attention by my property manager that your brother August wants to reconsider his offer to sell. It makes sense, seeing as you are alive and well, that he’d now wish to remain here and rebuild what was lost-”

The color drained from Hatchet’s face.

“-and I might be convinced to return the deed and move my little project elsewhere if you gave me a reason to show such good will. As my ally it would be the least my family and I could do for you. . . however that goodwill is only extended based on your decision, Mr. Hatchet.”

Hatchet’s blood froze in his veins. “You bought my home?”

“Mhm. A perk to being so wealthy. Your mansion was nothing more than chump change for me.”

Chump change? August sold it for 24 million dollars! Even his family didn’t have that kind of money lying around. Treasure room or not.

Hatchet’s shock wore off when something crashed in the main entrance, followed by a surprised voice. “Hatchet?”

Hatchet and Jeremiah both turned their attention to August and September now standing in the foyer, a black bag on the floor leaking with what smelled to be alcohol.

They didn’t notice. They were too busy looking at Jeremiah. “Well, it looks like our meeting has ended. I suggest you think about what I said, Mr. Lamia. Perhaps discuss it with your younger brothers. I’m sure they might convince you to reconsider after our little talk.”

Hatchet opened his mouth to argue yet nothing came out. Jeremiah turned his back to him and headed for the front door.

“Oh, when you do change your mind please let me know. We will have to throw a housewarming party when it becomes yours again. ” he glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “I’ll be back the same time next week for your answer, Mr. Hatchet. If you would like to tell me sooner you can leave a note at my property at 1441 Main st.”

Hatchet watched as Jeremiah nodded at his two brothers before passing by them and opening the heavy large door, closing it softly.

His words echoing up to the high ceiling.

NINETEEN

September gave a low whistle. So... someone from the Rose clan lives. How interesting.

And he thought coming back to California would be a bore. So far, he and August had discovered Hatchet alive, a toxin had been created to kill them by the GARD, a little piggy that wasn’t as sweet as they once thought, and now their greatest enemy to their family had come back to life.

September digested all of this while August went to comfort Hatchet- or whatever August thought he was going to do- stopped when Hatchet lashed out and grabbed hold of August’s Black Johnny Cupcake t-shirt and squeezed so tight the material could be heard ripping.

“You sold our home to the Rose clan?” Hatchet seethed, his eyes blazing red.

August wrapped his hands around Hatchet’s wrists and shook his head. “Of course not! I didn’t even know he was still alive!”

“Who did you sell it to then, huh? Because apparently he now has the deed to it!”

Hatchet shook August who at this point hadn’t retaliated and probably wouldn’t.

September rolled his eyes. Typical August. Always letting Hatchet treat him like a punching bag.

Heaving a sigh, he trudged from the foyer just as Hatchet released his hand to curl it into a fist.

September flashed before the hit came and pushed both of them away from each other. A little too hard.

Honestly, he barely put in any effort at all. But he still winced when he heard them land- on opposite ends of the hall.

Hatchet crashed into the rug covered steps while August managed to skid to a halt before landing on the bag with the broken bottle. They both shot him murderous looks. He shrugged. “Oops.”

“Oops?” repeated August in a snarl as September gave him a sheepish smile. “What the hell is wrong with you-you could have killed us!”

September rolled his eyes. That’s a bit exaggerative. “If you died it would be your fault. Now...how about instead of yelling and screaming like some stupid married couple you both calm down and talk it out-”

He was barely able to avoid Hatchet who flashed to attack. He couldn’t, however, stop August from suddenly appearing behind him, grabbing a handful of his hair.

September looked up at August with a wince. “Hey, be careful! All I have are my good looks.”

August released his hold and shoved him towards Hatchet, who was hunched over and holding his abdomen, blood dripping from his nose.

“What about Hatchet? You know he’s not fully recovered yet, but you had to flex, is that it?”

Hatchet did look worse for wear. Definitely not the picture of control and strength from when they’d been kids.

Still, September felt no guilt at his actions and shrugged with indifference. “He’s fine! I’m sure he’ll be alright...eventually...maybe.” When this did nothing but harden August’s jaw, September got defensive. “Oh, so it’s okay for him to almost punch you in the face but not for me to stop it?”

Wheezing, Hatchet seethed. “I should have hit you first.”

Just like that August and Hatchet were ganging up on him as if he was the one who started this entire fight. It’s like we’re kids all over again. The only difference was August was no longer antagonizing Hatchet to get his attention.

September rolled his eyes. It’s so tiring always being the bad guy. He shrugged August’s hand off his shoulder and strolled to the front door.

August demanded. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He answered with a dismissive wave. “anywhere but stuck here with you two idiots.”

“September…!”

September opened the door and glanced over his shoulder. “Come find me when you’ve figured out who’s the alpha this time.” August looked struck as he shut the door behind him and sauntered down the stone path.

Between their power struggle as the oldest and wanting to resume things the way it used to be September needed to get away from so much testosterone.

Problem was he didn’t have a car, and the energy needed to flash to town would have wiped him out. By the sound of the current situation he wouldn’t be able to step back into the mansion until they came to a standstill. Then maybe they could actually figure out a plan to deal with the Rose clan.

He didn’t really have anywhere in mind, so he decided to head to the beach.

There was a private cove attached to the hill to get to the mansion and September decided that would be the best place to go to wait it out. If he was lucky there would be a straggler or two that he could feed from to take off the edge since August broke their two bottles of Bourbon. Lifting his head in a groan as he walked towards the private beach, he silently cursed the Rose clan for making such good alcohol go to waste.

Despite wanting to put distance between himself and his brothers, September couldn’t shake the image of when they’d first walked into their home, the stricken look on Hatchet’s face as if he’d been delivered terrible news. It sort of resembled the look of humans who realized too late what he was and there was nowhere for them to go.

Yet different from the look pretty boy from schoolgave him earlier that day.

Thinking about the tall boy who’d bumped into September made him smirk as the image of his face the color of coffee dark with cream reddened, remembering how his ears burned with blood when September had looked him up and down with the intentional motive of making him uncomfortable. Maybe even angry.

He’d only done it after witnessing the boy sizing him up like September was not capable of following through with his threat. But hearing the pulse of his blood when September had looked below the belt made it hard to stop after giving him a dose of his own medicine.

He heaved a contented sigh which wilted in disappointment when he remembered who Mr. Tall and Handsome was. And that he’d probably have to be killed soon- by September’s hands no less.

He kicked a small rock and watched it fly far out and vanish from the blaring haze of the afternoon sun peeking through wisps of clouds.

Why did he have to be related to those monsters? It would be such a waste to kill him. He shook his head somberly. I can’t get attached. That should be easy considering that was what he used to keep from doing when he’d been a kid and had human companions who were killed off whenever it suited their father.

Not just his companions, he corrected. His and August’s mother. Hatchet’s mother. All the humans who gave years of their service only to be slaughtered like lambs so their father didn’t have to pay them like the contract dictated.

He’d always known something was off, but he hadn’t had any proof until he’d snuck into his father’s chamber one day while following the human assigned to him for the week.

It had been too late to stop the man informing Jain he wanted to quit, the stench of death overwhelming when Jain had led him to his father’s throne room and opened the door for the man to step through. September had had to cover his nose and mouth to stay the bile rising up his throat, missing the chance to call out to the red-haired man before he’d entered the room, the door closing behind him and Jain.

It wasn’t long after September heard the muffled cry of the man. He’d run over to the door, pulling it open and barely able to take in the dark red blood drying on the speckled white marble floor as he’d been grabbed by Jain and dragged inside.

His father had finished killing the red-haired man with the smattering of freckles September had found charming, dropping his cold body onto a small pile of others, their silk gowns and suits stained with blood. With death.

Jain had sighed. “My king, it seems we have a little spy.”

September had gritted his teeth and attempted to pry his father’s snake of an attendant off of him. “Let go of me!”

Although he was stronger, his youth had made Jain able to deflect his futile attempts at escape as he’d brought him to his father’s makeshift throne.

If he hadn’t been so afraid the stench of the decaying bodies would have made him throw up.

He’d remembered the thought crossing his mind to act like Hatchet, searching for something sharp to attack his father, the way Hatchet had after learning about his mother’s death and earning him his fateful nickname. Then his father had looked at him with those cold, merciless charcoal eyes, and he could do nothing but cower and stare up at him helplessly.

His father had lifted himself from the large chair and walked down the five marble steps to get to him, September expecting his death to come. Yet when his father stood in front of him, he lowered his large hand with the black garnet ring glinting on his finger towards his head.

And ruffled his hair.

Through his shock his father had calmly explained to his 8-year-old son:

“It’s too risky to let them leave here. Humans are nothing but feeble creatures. They can’t handle keeping such a big secret to themselves. This is the best way to ensure our safety.”

It had been the most his father had ever said to him at one time, the raspy voice strange to September’s ears.

September hadn’t been killed that day. But something inside of him had died.

Whenever September had seen his father with his hawk-like charcoal eyes and his mostly black hair peppered with specks of grey, his height looming as tall as the doorway, he’d turned away.

Not wanting him to see the fear in his eyes.

Maybe that was why I hated Hatchet so much...because he looks like him.

Because I’m not strong like him.

Or it could be for the fact it was Hatchet’s mother’s fault for the death of August and September’s mom. She’d wanted to be the only consort of Lord November and so when she’d discovered their mother had ties to the Rose clan Lord November had Jain kill her.

Then he’d turned around and ripped the head off Hatchet’s mother since he didn’t like untrustworthy people.

At least our father didn’t treat any of us differently afterward.All he cared about was that his children carried on the Lamia name. The women who’d birthed them had been expendable. Just like all the humans he’d drained.

Like September would probably have to do to pretty boy when the time came.

He sighed. What a waste. The image of light grey eyes dimming actually bummed him out.

He struggled to shake it off by the time he got to the stone wall separating the small dirt lot from the finite sand, hopping over it. There are more humans in the sea, he tried to convince himself. It’s not like I’ll miss him when he’s gone-

September’s slow beating heart thumped, catching him in his lie as he found the one person he was trying to keep his distance from sitting on the sand.

He blinked a couple of times yet there was no mistaking it. It was him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was with a brunette girl whose face was obscured by her hair, her chin resting on her bunched-up knees. She sniffled.

It seemed like an intimate moment between the two was happening, yet curiosity got the better of September. Carefully and slowly he backed up and sat down on the flat stone wall and listened for their would-be private conversation.

Pretty boy broke the silence, his soft baritone voice clear and strong despite the waves and wind, and September couldn’t help but lean forward, careful to catch every word. “Terra’s going to kill us, you know. I left her at the school to come find you.”

September’s gaze narrowed in thought. Isn’t Terra the other Carlan? He knew August had talked about the sister but admittedly he hadn’t paid much attention.

The girl sniffled again. “I know.” she lifted the back of her hand to her face to wipe at tears and shuddered in a sob. “I’ll take the full blame. I didn’t mean to make you guys worry...I just...I just needed...to know.”

September’s attention had been on pretty boy, watching the dark lashes lowering, his lush mouth slipping into a frown, when he caught the girl’s words.

Hmm.. know what? He trudged his attention back to her yet returned to pretty boy after his heart pumped faster and his ears turned red.

Pretty boy lifted a hand and held it in the air before dropping it a moment later with a look of frustration crossing his face. “Do...do you want to talk about it?”

The girl vehemently shook her head. “I don’t want to...to bring you down.”

Ugh, please. If September wasn’t attempting to be inconspicuous, he would have attacked her just to shut her up.

Doesn’t want to bring him down, he repeated in annoyance. What a load of crap.

He was glad he didn’t act impulsively as pretty boy encouraged, “It’s okay, Evie...you can tell me.”

September covered his mouth. Evie? Then in shock. Little Piggy? He looked around to see his brothers’ reactions but remembered he was there alone. They were probably still dueling it out and fighting over who was the worst and who was the best.

He sagged, muttering. “Well, that was anticlimactic.” It would make sense the girl with pretty boy was Hatchet’s murderous pet, considering their intel from the group of teenagers who tried breaking in had said the Carlans were now her family.

If Hatchet had been there, he would have had September kill pretty boy, taken Evie, and locked her in the mansion to torture as he pleased. Thankfully, September was not that impulsive. Before he reacted, he would take his time and hear the confession Evie was about to give to pretty boy.

She took in a deep breath. “I have no right to feel this sad...It’s my fault he died.”

September felt stunned. He expected a confession, but not a direct one. She continued, wiping her eyes as she added through another shuddering breath. “You know I used to live with a...a childhood friend, right?”

Pretty boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

“This friend-my best friend-took care of me. He was always there to help me out and protected me from his brothers who didn’t like me very much...”

September leaned forward and propped his chin up with his palm, riveted. Hatchet would lose his shit if he heard his ex-pet place herself so highly by saying she was his friend. Or speak with such a fond tone about him as if she didn’t stab him in the back and leave him to die.

This is far more entertaining than getting in the middle of August and Hatchet’s fight or discovering someone from the Rose clan is alive.

“The last night he was alive, we got into a fight. He’d said something really mean to me. He’d tried to apologize before...before the home invasion happened.”

Pretty boy’s eyes widened but returned to normal when she looked his way. “That must have been really scary, Evie...I’m sorry you had to go through something so horrible...watching your friend die.” Pretty Boy’s heart skipped a beat. Lying.

Evie fell into heart wrenching sobs, her hands covering her face, September’s mouth gaping open like he’d been slapped upside the head.

Wait a darn minute-what does she mean a home invasion- and why is he lying to her? September felt like he was watching a movie and yelling at the characters on the screen.

Pretty boy was the son of the Captains--the very people who orchestrated the raid and presumably killed Hatchet. Evie was the one who tried to kill Hatchet most likely based on her inside job working as a companion. Yet the reaction of pretty boy and Evie sugarcoating the full truth clearly showed some miscommunication happening- straight up lying to each other about that night.

This made September question why Evie was not telling him the whole truth about this dead friend of hers and why pretty boy lied then played along?

He stuck his tongue out of his mouth in thought. If I didn’t know any better, I would say Evie doesn’t know pretty boy knows the truth. But how can that be when she’s living with the enemy- when she did their dirty work for them?

Hatchet swore Evie was the one who’d injected him with a needle filled with some new toxin created by the GARD, and that she’d gotten it from them and had been working as a double agent all along.

As much as he’d doubted such a simple, stupid girl like little piggy was capable of such deceit, he’d humored Hatchet with his conspiracy theories--planned on letting him do whatever he wanted since he’d almost died and all.

Except now that September was witnessing quite a different story, he struggled to turn a blind eye, especially when Evie’s obnoxious sobs and her spiked heart rate when she spoke about Hatchet didn’t match up with someone who’d attempted to murder her precious friend.

September watched pretty boy finally break and wrap her in his arms, her head falling on his shoulder while he milked every minute of it.

September made a face of disgust. No one there to see it.

I think pretty boy and I need to have a little heart-to-heart. The notion brightened his souring mood.

Deciding he’d spent enough time for the two idiots to duke it out he went to spin himself around on the wall when someone covered his mouth and pressed him into their chest.

“Hi sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

TWENTY

Zed let himself into the mansion and dropped his Louis Vuitton checkered suitcase to the marble entryway. “Honey…I’m home!” He’d hoped his very unannounced visit would bring August and September to appear all surprised. He never expected August to already be in the main hall about to be pummeled by some scrawny looking boy.

They both shot looks over to him- August wary and the scrawny boy murderous.

No wonder he didn’t answer my call. Looks like he’s a bit tied up at the moment.

While his voice still echoed in the vast hall, he didn’t waste a minute to rush over to August’s aid, easily ripping the boy off of him and holding him back, his blood red cold stare and snarl ineffective towards intimidating him. “Who the hell are you?” the boy demanded, cocking his fist.

Zed grinned and shot a “you’re welcome” look to August. “You come back to this side of the world for only a couple weeks and you are already being bullied. Can’t leave you alone for a minute.”

He thought August would look relieved. Instead, his face tightened with anger, directed at Zed. “What are you doing here, Zed-and let go of my brother!”

Zed lost his smile. “Why do you look so unhappy to see me? After your last call I came to help you- I’m sorry did you say your brother?” he hastily changed course and glanced at the boy trembling in rage.

“Release me at once or I will hit you.”

Zed dismissed the threat and grabbed the boy with both hands, his muscles easily incapacitating him, and searched intently for resemblances between his two young wards and this boy. There was none. Where August and September were fair and had softer facial features this boy was sharp, edged with shadows and dark eyes. A replica of the late November Lamia who was said to have been feared simply by his glare.

I can understand why. There’s so much malice in one look I can feel him trying to burn my soul.

Zed shuddered. So, this was the lost Lamia brother August had mentioned on the phone the other night. He’d thought he was just drunk and perhaps seeing ghosts in this creepy place. To think he was actually still alive after all those years August and September went searching for him...

Zed released him and ran a hand through his chocolate locks, displacing the loose curls on top of his head. “Well, call me crazy.” His jade colored eyes searched the eldest Lamia boy who watched him disdainfully. “Where have you been, boy? Were you kidnapped or something?”

“Get out of my house now.”

August moved and attempted to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hatchet, Zed didn’t mean any harm…”

Hatchet, eh? What an odd name. Zed had thought he’d be a month, too, like his brothers. Hatchet whipped August’s hand off and turned his wrath on him. “You can go with him.”

A pained look crossed August’s face. Zed had only seen him look that way after he’d come back from another failed trip in searching for his brother or other family members. The same brother who was now standing in front of him and causing that pain.

Zed stepped in, ready to protect August at all cost. “Enough, boy. I am the one you are angry at, not him.”

“Actually, he was mad at August first,” commented a musical voice behind him. Zed glanced over his shoulder and found September and Maze coming through the door he’d apparently forgotten to shut. September passed Zed and placed his hands on his thin hips. “Are you two fools still going at it?”

Hatchet trembled in rage. “Watch your tongue, September.”

Surprise flitted through Zed when September responded with a patronizing tone. “Mmm… I don’t think so. We have guests now so either behave yourself or you can sleep outside.”

“Excuse me?”

“Okay, okay…not outside. You can stay in the room we found you in.”

August looked horrified. “September!”

“Sorry, not sorry. If he’s going to be rude to our friends while they stay here, then he can go.”

“They are not staying!” roared Hatchet, his eyes darkening to the color of spilled blood. “Neither are you! All of you—get out!”

No one moved. Maze muttered to September. “You were searching for him?”

Zed caught the shiver of Hatchet ready to attack either September or Maze and stepped in his way. “Enough. From all of you.” As the eldest in the room he commanded the respect of the boys. Hatchet held his attack by baring his teeth at Zed, his bony chest heaving.

Zed crossed his arms and sighed. This is not going well at all. He was glad he’d fed from Maze before they’d arrived at this mess or else he’d have lost his temper minutes ago.

“August, explain to me what I’m missing please.” September speaking to his older brother so directly and disrespectfully was unusual for their kind. Even for September, who was known for being a brat, usually only pushed the rules so far. “What has gotten all of you so excited?”

“Go on, August,” growled Hatchet. “Tell your friend what you did.”

August answered with a shake of his head and stormed away from all of them. “I need a drink.”

Before Zed could direct his question to Hatchet he spun on his heel. “I’m done with all of you,” he said, heading down the opposite hall away from August.

Zed slowly craned his head to September who watched Hatchet go with what Zed could only describe as a look of hate.

“August accidentally sold our home to the Roses who now won’t give us back the deed unless we create some alliance with them.” explained September. He must have sensed the utter shock on Zed’s face because he broke his death stare away from Hatchet’s back and grinned up at him. “Oh yeah, the Rose clan is apparently still kicking. It’s been quite exciting being back home.”

Maze’s dark brows creased. “Are they important?”

“They’re ruthless,” admitted Zed uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Every code we’ve written to protect our kind they have broken. If Lord Samuel is still alive…”

September interrupted him. “He isn’t. His son Jeremiah said he’s the head now.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” Zed did not sign up to come there and find himself in the middle of an age-old war between the Lamias and the Roses. Although by what he gathered in the brief fight between August and Hatchet it sounded like the Roses had already won the war. Why do they want an alliance with them? After all these years as enemies, why now? Zed saw the strain on September’s boyish face, Maze wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders, and decided without a second’s thought to prolong his short visit and settle this matter for his young wards and their long-lost brother.

“Maze,” he said, his tone becoming serious. Maze’s expression was blank, his sapphire blue eyes the only sign he was listening intently. “We’re going to hang out here a bit longer than expected.”

Maze gave a curt nod. “Done.” Zed smiled warmly at his attendant, the response always the same to anything he asked. Maze remarked dryly to September, “Looks like you’re stuck with me, darling.”

“I’ve heard worse news,” countered September, his expression relaxing.

“Then it’s settled,” clapped Zed. “September, please show Maze and I to your guest rooms and then gather your cranky brothers.”

“Why do we have to get them?”

Zed strode to the grand staircase, not casting another look at the two boys watching him go. “Tonight, we celebrate. And tomorrow…our work begins.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Frantic. Anxious. Terra Carlan was beautifully helpless.

Drago watched as she paced back and forth in front of the school, stopping. Looking at her phone. Scrunching up her face in sheer frustration.

Their time in the bunker simply hadn’t been enough. Those large eyes that widened at the sight of him. The terrified look she wore so well.

Jeremiah told him to behave...but she was too tempting.

Sitting in the concealment of his silver Audi, he slipped his phone from the inner pocket of his navy blue blazer and went to contacts, clicking on hers.

Following her movements with glinted amusement she stopped her next round of pacing and sharply looked down at her phone. Her expression showed a struggle between answering or letting the private number go to voicemail. He smiled when she’d succeeded at the latter.

She wouldn’t be so defiant the second time.

All it took was one ring. She lifted it to her ear, a mask of suspicion etched all over her pretty face. “Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Carlan.” The blood drained from her skin. So she does remember. “I was simply curious how easily you’d recognize my voice. It seems the answer is very.”

From his vantage point in the school parking lot he saw her visibly shake. “You....” she grounded out. She went rigid and scanned her surroundings, her breathing harsh through the phone. “What did you do to me?”

“I made you useful.” Then, to antagonize, he chuckled and asked, “I’m curious, Ms. Carlan...how does it feel to know you’re going to be the demise of your family. . .and there is nothing you can do about it?”

“I will find you first and kill you. . .”

“Like mother like daughter. Always the same threats with no execution. I will say this,” he said softly, “unlike your mother you wear your fear well.” Terra lost whatever control she’d been trying to maintain, now spinning wildly in a circle, searching for him. He chuckled again. “Next time I call I expect you to answer the first ring. We’ll be in touch soon.”

He lowered the phone and heard her yell into it before hanging up- “Wait- what do you want from me-”

His car filled with silence as he watched her lower the phone. Her expression went slack and then pinched in confusion. He saw her shake her head and head back into the school, the large blue door closing shut behind her.

Drago’s lips curved upward while he put his car into drive. “You’ll find out soon enough, Ms. Carlan. . .what exactly I have in store for you.”

TWENTY ONE

Nicole was dying. . .

Of happiness.

If she could remember one day clearly for the rest of her life it would be this one.

Not her first trip to Disneyland. Not seeing One Direction in concert.

This date. With Jeremiah.

She couldn’t get over how perfect he was. How everything he did was so flawless and straight out of a Carey Grant movie or one of those old time classics she’d grown up watching with her mom and abuela.

She couldn’t wait to tell Travis all about it at work tomorrow. I’ll have to get a picture to prove he’s real though. He wouldn’t believe her if she didn’t have proof.

No one would. Heck, she barely did.

He’d waited for her outside of the restaurant and opened the door for her. He’d asked her to go to one of the nicest French restaurants in town- Le Rouge- and when she’d expressed not knowing how to order in French he’d smiled reassuringly and ordered for the both of them, letting her try everything first, complimenting her on her brave appetite.

Nicole had done her best not to look at the prices of such a brave appetite, her hands clammy when everything had a double-digit number except for the toasted bread, which they also had to pay for.

She prayed he was paying. Or else her poor credit card was going to take a hit.

Then again Jeremiah had picked the place and had not flinched once at the prices, especially when ordering them a $300 bottle of champagne, so maybe that meant he was going to pay.

Nicole pondered this anxious thought as she drank down the glass Jeremiah had filled, needing all the liquid courage she could get.

Every time Jeremiah looked at her through his long dark blond lashes, his dark emerald gaze making her want to tell him everything-anything- to not get him to stop looking at her so intently, she felt herself pinching her arm under the table to keep checking he wouldn’t disappear from something stupid like being in a dream.

Despite her arm bruising he never wavered. Never vanished.

If he didn’t stare at me so much I might be able to get my thoughts under control. She graced him with a nervous smile and saw him rest his chin on steepled hands. Hands she wondered how they’d feel touching her neck and running through her hair.

She was so flustered with her dirty thoughts she didn’t notice until she’d eaten most of the foie gras that he’d barely eaten anything. Because she’d eaten everything like a fat ass.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, pushing the plate towards him. He tilted his head and gave her a blank look, making her explain, “It was so good...I couldn’t stop eating it.”

Understanding softened his angular features. “So long as you enjoyed it, that’s all that matters to me.”

Nicole flushed. “I don’t think I could enjoy this night anymore if I tried.”

“Are you sure? We still have dessert to go...what’s so funny?” he asked when she let out a delighted laugh.

She picked up her glass of champagne and glanced at him through her dark lashes, smiling. “Boy, If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to fatten me up.”

“Is it wrong of me to want to give you a night you won’t forget?” he countered smoothly. Nicole hid her deep blush by taking a generous sip of the still cool wine, the bubbles still tickling her tongue even after she swallowed it. Just like his words.

“Believe me...I’ll think about this the rest of my life,” she muttered to herself.

Jeremiah leaned forward. “I’m sorry?”

Nicole laughed and gave a dismissive wave. “Nothing! Just saying how good this wine is...” she lied, looking to her left at the perfectly lined up photos of Paris all in black and white. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw him smirk, embarrassment seeping deeply into the pit of her stomach.

Damn it...he totally heard. And now he knows how much of a loser I am.

She grabbed the bottle of champagne resting in a metal pail filled with crushed ice and helped herself, avoiding eye contact. Praying someone killed her.

“You know what? I think I need some more wine.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Nicole and Jeremiah left the restaurant an hour later.

The main street of Jewel city was busy for a Tuesday evening, the store fronts brighter than the stars hidden by the humid haze covering them. She kept pace with his slightly quick strides, his perfect and unscuffed black shoes clacking on the sidewalk with purpose. Nicole’s three inch black heels also clacked-a little too loud- to keep up with him, and she was glad she’d broken them in before this date or she would have been stumbling after all the expensive champagne she ingested.

How many glasses was it? 2...3?

Too many. That’s how many.

Jeremiah’s expression was unreadable as they headed up the inclined hill. He hadn’t said a word since they’d stood up from their seats and left the quaint restaurant. Actually, now that Nicole reflected, he hadn’t said much of anything.

Horrified, she covered her mouth to smother a gasp. Have I not shut up this entire time? Her mom always said she loved the sound of her own voice...but she’d been working hard to be more mindful of her bad manners. Ever since her ex Jaylin had claimed that was why she’d broken up with her.

I can’t let that happen again. Especially not with this once-in-a-lifetime meeting with Jeremiah. He’d asked her out for some unfathomable reason. She’d kill herself if she didn’t get a second date because of her big effing mouth.

They’d gotten one block away from the restaurant when Nicole finally managed to break the silence, inquiring a bit breathless from walking up the hill. “How did you discover Le Rouge?” he flicked a look her way and she babbled, “I work near her and I don’t think I have ever seen or heard of it before today.”

“There’s a lot that goes missed in this city,” he said. His tone was abrupt and it threw Nicole off guard.

Did I do something wrong? Nicole swallowed and broke into a jog to catch up to his steps getting faster. Jaylin’s accented voice mocked her. “Good luck finding someone who wants to hear your bullshit everyday.”

No... I’m better now. A year was enough time to work on that shit so I don’t make the same mistakes. Catching up to Jeremiah she was determined to salvage this evening.

“Have you ever tried Mina’s down the street?”

He shook his head. “I have not.”

“Do you like cajun food? If so, they have the best gumbo and etouffee.”

“I can’t say I’m a huge fan of spicy foods.”

Nicole brightened at the tidbit of information. She bumped his arm with her bare shoulder and teased. “I knew there was something wrong with you.”

A secretive smile graced his lips. “You have no idea.”

A thrill of apprehension ran down the length of her spine at the predatory way he now watched her. He came to a stop in front of a large building complex, Nicole’s steps stumbling to a halt. His eyes were on the front door boarded up, the windows covered in construction material as if it was being renovated.

Confused and a little too tipsy to adjust to the sudden stop, Jeremiah answered her unspoken question. “I own this building.”

His words took a second longer to digest before she understood. “I’m sorry, what?”

He nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, the lean muscles in his arms taut. Nicole stared from him to the building as he admitted, “I own several of them actually.”

That explains not blinking once at that 558 dollar bill. “Boy, who are you?” she demanded, hearing the envy and awe clear in her tone. He must have, too, because his lips crooked upward, his gaze narrowing mischievously at her. “Want to be the first to have a private tour?”

Her heart thudded. There’s that look again...like he wants to devour me. Delicious tingles ran from her stomach to her toes. I’d be okay with dying like that. There were worse ways to go than being killed by him.

He held his hand out and she took it without a second’s thought, his fingers cool against her clammy skin. “Shall we?”

She nodded, her gaze unable to look at anything other than him as she walked past the unlocked door and into the encased glass porch, stopped only temporarily by Jeremiah needing to enter a code into a keypad to unlock a thick, clear door, and stepping into a dimly lit corridor.

Nicole oohed and aahed as they passed a concierge desk and entered a large sitting room.

It looked like one of the large condo buildings that were popping up all over town.

“I can’t believe you own this,” she said.

He chuckled and headed down the long hall. “Wait until you see the best part.”

Nicole saw him stop at a sleek elevator, her stomach clenching as he beckoned her forward with a crooked finger. Her head buzzed with alcohol and anticipation.

Her mom and abuela would rip her a new one when they found out she followed a man into an empty building. But after the promise in his darkening gaze she was in for the night of her life she didn’t give a shit.

Getting yelled at will be worth every second of mom’s shrill yelling, she decided, her feet moving of their own volition towards the waiting angel. When she stepped into the elevator, he wasted no time in pressing her back into the freezing metal wall, his body touching hers. She yelped in surprise, but he ignored it, his hand lifting her head up to look at him.

Nicole’s heart beat violently as his finger brushed the pulse in her neck, his other hand slowly slinking into the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her thick black curls and keeping her immobile.

Despite wanting and thinking about nothing but this their entire evening together she couldn’t shake the pang of fear creeping up her neck and making the hairs rise, his silence making her breathing come out in loud puffs.

The hand on her neck dropped away and he reached into his tweed coat pocket for something. Nicole laughed nervously, expecting the sound of foil ripping followed by getting hot and heavy in the elevator. Instead, she heard a small pop that sounded like plastic.

Nicole asked in a rush, “So this is your thing, huh? Bring girls to your apartment building to show off how cool you are?”

Jeremiah smiled down at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s not why I brought you here.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did you?”

His head dipped close to her ear, his mouth tickling the skin. She felt her eyes fluttering when a prick jabbed into her neck, her expression tightening in a wince. Nicole lowered her gaze and saw him push on the top of a syringe; thick black liquid pressing past her skin.

Then stark, hot pain flooded through her and her lungs filled with fire, his words haunting her as everything went black-

“It’s so no one can hear you scream.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Cold. Dark.

A metal box. The faint sound of beating hearts.

Can’t move. Can’t speak.

Needles in both arms.

One giving blood. The other is taking away.

Eyes are too heavy. Need sleep.

Only sleep.

Waiting.

Soon.

ONE

week

Later

TWENTY TWO

Terra slammed her locker shut and took in a calming breath.

Why the hell are they ghosting me?

Her phone clenched in her hand, the text from Mark still on the screen, with just two simple words:

Not today.

Why the hell not? It had been two whole weeks since the attack at the bunker. Nero was finally released from the hospital with a clean bill of health-- so what was stopping her team from getting back to work?

Terra had been so sure once her team was able to get back to the grind, they’d get their assignments again. Not a constant run around of the not today and maybe tomorrow texts she kept receiving.

She slammed a fist into the red painted metal and growled. Bloods ruin everything.

“I see you got the good news, too.” Terra whipped her head over to the left and watched Nero saunter up to her.

“Wipe that dumb smile off your face before I do it for you-” and stop looking so happy about us not getting to do our jobs.

Nero came to a stop and leaned his muscled arm on the locker, facing her. “How can I not be happy? I’m alive, the sun is shining--and the love of my life is beautiful and well, even after being so worried about her future husband,’ he finished with a sarcastic tone.

“The love of your life?” repeated Terra in a dry laugh. “I think you need to go get your head checked out again, buddy. Pretty sure you might have hit it harder than you thought.”

“See? You say you don’t care but here you are, worrying about me.”

“You’re brain dead if you think that’s true. Who let you out of the hospital again?”

He sighed happily. “The prettiest nurse with the greatest bedside manner... But don’t worry-no one can replace you, future wife.”

Nero flashed Terra a smile that could make both men and women fall in love-and it usually worked- the faint scar from the gash where the blood hit him only enhancing his attractiveness.

Too bad for him it didn’t work on her at all. Terra was impervious to being charmed and flattered. She didn’t have time for flirting and love. Only killing bloods.

Nero knew that, too. . . but he kept trying anyway. So, she kept shutting him down.

Matching his stance of crossed arms, she gave him a look that opposed his: a glare that made both men and women run away. “I think I liked you better when you were in a coma.”

Nero found her deflection part of a game only he was playing. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he whined, rubbing his calloused hand down her bare arm where the Led Zeppelin t-shirt sleeve didn’t cover her skin. She followed the touch with a hiss and took a step back so he couldn’t patronize her so easily. More importantly, she did it so when the hall cleared of the students still milling about after the school day finally ended, she could take him down. No one touched her and got away with it.

He continued, puckering his full lips at her, eying the stance with a frown. “Always playing hard to get,” he sighed.

“I’m not in the mood right now, Nero.”

Frown lines creased his forehead. “I figured that out when you punched the locker. What did the locker ever do to you, huh?”

“You know why I did it.”

“Seriously? You’re that mad about not walking around some dumpy building for six hours instead of doing more fun activities? Like going mini golfing with me?” he suggested, his look hopeful.

When he put it that way it also made her question why she was so bothered by it. Truthfully, she didn’t know why not going to work was making her so irritable. Before the attack she would have been thrilled to not have to do patrol duty and finish binging Pretty Little Liars on Netflix--minus mini-golfing with Nero.

Yet Terra couldn’t think about anything else but work since the attack at the bunker, and she felt if she got back into her routine, she wouldn’t be so jumpy at every little movement. The memory was still fuzzy of how she’d managed to take out three bloods by herself. The only explanation her parents, the examiners, and herself came up with after determining she hadn’t been bitten was that it must have been her training and a fierce adrenaline rush that got the job done. Good thing, too, since the three that attacked may be responsible for killing the girls around town.

As far as medals went at the GARD, she’d been deemed a hero. Everyone was so proud. . .

So proud they now all treated her like a pariah.

Thinking about it made her slam her hand into the locker again, Nero’s thick black brows lifting. His reaction only made her angrier.

“I still don’t get it. Why aren’t they letting us go back to work?” she demanded in a low voice. “We passed every examination and came up clean!”

“It’s not just us,” Nero said, matching her tone. “All workers our age are being put on the back burner right now.”

This was news to Terra. “Explain.”

He leaned a bit closer and Terra bared her teeth in warning. “Remember Dex? From Everest’s group?” she nodded and he blocked his mouth when a student stopped across the hall. “He said those girls that keep turning up dead were recruits in training...”

Terra interrupted him. “Yeah right. I’m pretty sure I would have heard about that by now-” all of the GARD would have.

Nero went on as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Not when we have a mole in our place of work that’s giving all the information away...like where certain people are going to be working and on which day...”

Her eyes widened. “You mean like when we worked?”

“Mhm. Which is why they’re letting us enjoy our weekdays and still paying us for our service until they figure out who it is.” Before Terra could fully swallow this news Nero clapped his hands together and brightened. “So, Terra Carlan, what are we going to do today?”

Carrie’s words rang loud in her ear- it won’t kill you to act like a normal kid, Terra. Monsters will always be there but friends will not.

She grimaced. I’d rather deal with monsters than be stuck in Nero’s company intentionally.

“We are not doing anything.”

“Why do you have to make me work so hard...?”

“Sorry,” she remarked coolly. “I already have plans.”

His brow cocked, skeptical. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Terra opened her mouth to tell him the truth-which was she had absolutely no plans at all- when a voice broke in. “She’s helping me.”

Terra arched her head to the across the hallway, and she saw from the corner of her eye Nero do the same.

“Gus?” She couldn’t stop the surprise from raising her pitch, finding the boy who hadn’t shown up to school for the past week relaxing against the lockers like he’d done it a thousand times before. He hadn’t even been there during their History class last period.

The smile he gave her looked apologetic. “Hey.”

Nero interrupted. “You’re helping him do what?”

“I hope it’s getting caught up on a lot of homework,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “Mr. Lopes said I need to get help from someone in class since he wasn’t gonna spend any more time in this shit school than he has to-his words, not mine.”

Terra planned to tell him to find someone else who actually bothered doing their homework but was stopped by Nero leaning in, muttering so only she could hear. “When did you willingly do charity?”

Never. That’s when. “You know, if you actually came to class you wouldn’t have to do so much work.” She crossed her arms and stared at him down, seeing his expression look abashed. Her heart stuttered against her rib cage when he glanced at her with a placating look, his voice softening. “Fair point.”

Terra started to shake her head as Nero chuckled. “Sorry man, but you're asking the wrong person to help you.”

Terra couldn’t break away from Gus’s intense stare as he asked,“You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Nero scoffed. “Damn you’re persistent-”

“-I’ll do it.”

Nero swiveled his head to look at her. “What?”

Terra’s mouth parted, surprised herself. Wasn’t she just about to tell Gus to kick rocks? Giving a soft shake of her head she blinked, frowning. “Like you said...we have all this free time now. What better way to fill it than to finally get caught up on all those assignments sitting blank in my bag?”

That’s why I changed my mind and agreed to help him, right? It had to be. There wasn’t any other reason she’d willingly help a student- a delinquent one no less- get caught up on shit he should have been doing himself.

“Wait, you can’t be serious,” demanded Nero incredulously.

Gus gave a sigh of relief and pressed his palms together in a thank you gesture. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she muttered. Every part of her itched to turn him down yet she found herself telling him briskly after checking the pink wrist watch Evie gave her for her birthday, “ my sister is out of her club in 45 minutes. That’s all the time you get.” She heard Nero make a sound of agitation yet kept her attention on Gus, daring him to ask for more. He didn’t.

“I’ll take whatever time you can spare,” he said, smiling.

“You’re gonna regret taking help from her,” commented Nero. She shot him a dirty look as he added dryly, “You’ll be paying that debt off for the rest of your life.”

Gus pushed off the locker and considered Nero. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing,” he murmured.

His words made her cheeks heat. She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes at him. “We’ll see about that.” Righting her backpack’s strap, she stalked down the hall while Nero called out, “so I’ll see you later for our date then?”

“Not even if Hell freezes over.”

Gus caught up to her fast pace, glancing over his shoulder. “My bad.” When she cast him an annoyed look, he went on with that same apologetic smile she was beginning to hate on him, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you hanging out with your boyfriend. . .”

Terra gasped and slammed to a halt. “Nero is not my boyfriend,” she said, glaring up at him. His green eyes lit up and she was taken aback by how happy he looked by this news, admitting a moment later, “I don’t have one.”

Why would I tell him that? It’s none of his business if I’m taken or not!

She turned her head and squeezed her fingernails into her palms when her stomach started acting up again. “We’re wasting time,” she grumbled, making her legs move for the library next to the cafeteria on the other side of the hall.

Gus gave a husky chuckle. “You’re the boss.”

He jogged a few steps to catch up and she felt his gaze locked on her. Terra hadn’t really thought about the missing blue-haired kid once, too wrapped up in not being allowed to work and Mark and Nero lying in the hospital, injured and unconscious, to notice he hadn’t been there. Now she felt his presence like a hovering shadow, and she couldn’t break the feeling it was consuming her somehow. And she was okay with it. Okay he asked her for help. Wanting to do it.

A pang went through her head as the image of a smile slipped by. She stumbled. What was that? Why did it feel like deja vu?

The memory slipped away and she shook off the pang of fear, scoffing.

Me? Wanting to help someone...do homework? “I don’t do this ever, so you better not fall behind again-or you’re on your own.”

It was weak damage control, but it would have to do. She was still trying to figure out how the hell she’d agreed to do this in the first place.

Gus surprised her by walking faster than she was, coming to a halt in front of her. She braced for the abrupt stop and began to narrow her eyes at him when she met his serious look, thrown off by it.

He bit his lower lip. “I have a confession to make...”

Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling? The same feeling, she realized, before the bloods had attacked the warehouse. Terra placed her hands on her rounded hips to stop the trembling in her hands. “What?”

“I’m not here to get help with my homework.”

“Excuse me?” Terra eyed him in suspicion, the serious look on his face taking on an edge, his mouth set in a grim line. And she asked the question that should have stayed trapped on her tongue. “Then why are you here?”

Gus took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes locking on hers.

“I’m here to kidnap you.”

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“They really think we’re doing Romeo and Juliet as this year’s play.”

Evie followed behind Andrew and Steven out the auditorium door. Drama club ended a lot sooner than it usually did, the uproar about performing the Shakespeare play causing their drama teacher, Mr. Mosby, to determine it was done for the day when the members were divided.

The half that wanted to do it said it was a classic and deserved to be represented by them since it apparently had never been done before at their school. The other half said everyone was forced to read it either their freshman or sophomore year and no one gave a crap about some star-crossed lovers who killed themselves over love.

Although Evie agreed with the opposing side- committing suicide if you couldn’t be with the one you loved was a terrible message to send to impulsive teenagers- Evie didn’t want to do the play for a much more selfish reason.

No matter how hard she tried to separate herself from the story, she couldn’t stop thinking about Hatchet. He was suddenly everywhere. Everything reminded her of him.

After the weird encounter with the new kid Henry who she hadn’t seen since the first day of school, Evie was haunted by Hatchet..

The list of books they were going to read in English had all been books Hatchet had read to her: Of Mice and Men, The Giver, and Raisin in the Sun. Her history class was discussing the significance of saving important historical places or letting them be destroyed, like the mansion. Her family’s constant comments that if she continued eating so much sugar it would turn her blood into it (Hatchet used to complain about that when he’d fed on her, denying her caramels when he discovered she had found his hidden stash and ate almost all of them).

She’d thought if she had closure going to the empty mansion his ghost would finally be put to rest and stop haunting her. Then Everest had interrupted by finding and dragging her down to the beach, yelling for a solid half hour how much of an idiot she was and that if she wanted a criminal record before she was eighteen then to do something cooler other than trespassing on private property.

She knew the Carlans were aware she’d lived at the mansion for a short period of time. . . but they didn’t understand the extent of it--what her life had really been like with Hatchet. And how despite her wanting to never return to that life she couldn’t stop missing Hatchet, wishing he was still alive.

If he hadn’t saved me... maybe he’d be here.

Evie straggled behind Andrew and Steven who practically hopped down the stairs to get to the main floor. She, however, trudged down the rubber steps, so lost in guilt and regret, nearly missing Andrew discussing how hot Terra was and the naughty things he wanted to do to that fine exotic body.

If Terra’s waiting at the stairwell’s entrance like she usually does-and she hears what he’s saying-Andrew’s going to leave school with a nasty bruise somewhere on his person.

Steven changed the subject. “Hey, do we have to go to the mansion tonight?”

Mansion? Evie glanced over the railing and saw them continue down to the first floor, her head spinning as she watched them. What mansion?

“I don’t think so...he said they have visitors in town so we probably won’t be needed until they leave.”

Evie lifted her foot to take another step. There’s no way. They lived in northern California. Mansions were everywhere. It couldn’t be her mansion they were talking about.

Her mansion had been abandoned since that night. When she’d watched Hatchet die.

It was the wrong time to remember such a painful memory, a sting racing through her heart making her stumble forward, her feet unable to connect to the safety of the steps as she started to tumble down the stairs.

Her hand scrambled to grab the bar, the sting of metal pinching into her skin nothing compared to the sick lurch of her heart jumping in her throat, waiting for the inevitable slam into the black rubber ground.

There were probably a thousand things she could have done at that moment but all she managed to do was shut her eyes and pray the impact wouldn’t be as bad as the time she’d fallen while chasing a rabbit to give Hatchet as a pet, the torn skin from her ripped dress leaving little scars all over her arms and legs.

Evie recalled the pieces of gravel embedded into her skin when something roped her around her stomach and she was jerked to a stop. Gravity no longer carrying her down.

Still, she couldn’t look.

Not until she heard a voice close to her face. “You should be more careful.”

Without thinking she opened her eyes and found Henry, the boy she hadn’t seen in two weeks, watching her with a shrewdness that sifted through her and cut her down simultaneously. Despite her near death experience she was swept up in the tide of nostalgia, her heart hammering inside of her chest no longer from falling but from the look, the eyes--belonging only to her memories and not reality.

She released the bar and pushed against his shoulders for distance, blinking. “H-henry?”

His mouth twitched at the corners. “If you paid attention to where you were going you wouldn’t risk falling like that,” he reprimanded. Evie’s breath rushed out in a quick breath, noticing the voice that had sounded like it was coated in gravel was less potent, smoother, each word crisp. Her head moved back and forth from side to side, daring herself to stop finding similarities between the two.

Hatchet is dead.

He’s not coming back.

Henry can’t be a ghost.

He was waiting for her to respond, his thin dark brows rising beneath wisps of short blue-black hair. Yet no words found their way out past her lips. For once Evie was speechless.

Henry took her shock to grab one of her hands, holding up a finger so it was in her line of vision, which was not as important compared to the boy who’d saved her.

“See? You’ve also injured yourself because of your recklessness.”

She blinked and flicked a look to the finger he was holding. Droplets of blood escaped a pretty wide cut running across the middle of her pointer finger on her left hand. As much as Evie hated the sight of her own blood the fear of it didn’t register, even when it dripped down her finger-

onto his.

She gasped, his hand releasing hers so quickly it was like it burned him. He lifted it to his face and stared with a frown, Evie finally managing to croak out, “I.... I am so sorry!” she looked around in growing embarrassment as he stared at his finger, his forehead furrowed in thought. “I...I have some sanitizer in my backpack.”She barely unzipped the small pouch on her bag when she saw him lift the finger closer to his face, panicking, making her stutter- “j-just wait a second…I-I’ll get you a napkin…”

Evie fell off in stunned silence as he lifted the finger and put it into his mouth. He closed his lips and hummed, his eyes briefly shutting, contentment easing the sharp angles of his face reminding Evie of a boy she once knew better than herself.

Henry opened his eyes and looked at her. “Silly girl,” he sighed, smirking. She froze,

his next words making her legs feel like buckling. “You know better than to think I’d waste good blood.”

Evie’s heart burned with hope. With pain.

Hatchet?

She stood, transfixed, unable to move as he pulled out a black handkerchief from his back pocket and tied it around her finger, his head shaking like she was nothing more than a foolish child before heading past her up the stairs, repeating in consternation-

“Evie, Evie, Evie-” the same way Hatchet used to when she’d done something that vexed him.

After he’d found her bloodied and bruised from falling when she tried to catch the rabbit. Her reaction to apologize every single time.

When he left the stairwell and headed to the left, Evie finally regained control of her body, her legs spinning around and running up the stairs, desperate to not let this be a dream.

She’d had dreams like this, where Hatchet would show up at school or at her job. He would still be 12 years old, yet he’d never find it odd she was older than he was now. Taller.

She’d never been able to conjure in her imagination a Hatchet older than the one who’d died, forever a relic in her memory as the vampire prince who was killed because of her.

Henry headed towards the auditorium when she made it to the third floor out of breath. Not a fan of physical exertion she ignored the lightheaded rush in her head while sprinting to the double doors leading into the large auditorium, flinging them open and finding him slowly strutting down the aisle towards the stage, hands in his pockets, walking with a natural grace that she hadn’t seen in years.

The door slammed behind her, but he didn’t turn around. Didn’t react.

Evie sucked in all the air she could take in and cried out:

“HATCHET!”

The hope in her voice echoed in the high rafters and the sloping ceiling meant to help acoustics travel. For a brief pause nothing but the name she cried echoed.

Only when it faded did he stop. Then slowly turn to face her.

She took a shaky step toward him as he murmured. “Oh, Evie.”

I’m dreaming again, aren’t I? This can’t be really happening. She’d thought of this moment for years. Of finding him again. Alive.

Tears made her eyes burn. “Hatchet,” she repeated in a choked whisper.

She watched him smile coldly. His eyes blood red.

Then he vanished-

pushing her into the auditorium door in the span of a shuddering breath.

Lifting her tear-filled gaze to him, his hand around her throat, her burst of joy was ripped apart as she realized his features were hardened into stone.

Terror, cold and suffocating, wrapped tighter around her than his fingers on her neck.

Her dream twisting into a nightmare.

Hatchet smiled. “You should have run when you had the chance.”

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“September... what are you doing now?”

September glanced away from the person sleeping on the couch and grinned up at Maze.

“Maze! When did you return from speaking with the flower boys?” his best friend and confidant, he could already tell he was not happy with the human in September’s room, Maze’s lean body slipping past the doorway where he’d been leaning and strutting into the room, his hooded sapphire gaze filled with disapproval. “Zed and I just got back from yet another failed venture. I came to bother you while he cools off…but it seems you’ve already found yourself a distraction.”

“Meeting didn’t go well?”

“There was no meeting. We can’t find them. Anywhere,” remarked Maze with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve heard stories about the Rose, yet no one ever mentioned they’re such finicky people. Zed is so distraught he had to go take a nap.” His thick, musical accent gained an edge when he was annoyed, and it always made September laugh.

Except when he did so now his sleeping beauty stirred from his forced slumber and he wasn’t yet ready for him to wake. “Shh...we have to be quiet.”

Maze flicked a cool brow at him. “Care to tell me who this is?”

September grinned. “Maze, I’d like you to meet pretty boy- except I guess it’s hard to introduce the two of you when he’s still knocked out cold...”

“Pretty boy, huh? You already have a nickname for him.”

“It fits him, don’t you think?”

Maze gave a contemplative frown as he observed little Carlan. He shrugged. “Eh, he’s alright.”

September deflated a little as if his best artwork was judged harshly. “Look at those high cheekbones. They could cut you, they're so sharp.”

Maze looked at September fondly. “I swear you’ll never change,” he sighed, his long oak colored hair rippling like waves down his arms as he shook his head. September had known Maze long enough to catch the exasperation beneath the flat, indifferent tone. He’d remembered when August and September had first arrived to live with prince Zed in Spain Zed had given Maze to September as his helper, to keep him out of trouble.

Too bad no one could keep September out of trouble.

Everything September had done made the serious boy look at him like he wanted to do nothing else, but twist September’s head clean off his shoulders. Looking back at it, he couldn’t blame him.

However, Maze didn’t have to intervene this time around. September had the situation fully under control. “I know this might be rude, but I need you to leave now so I can talk to him for a little bit about something slightly important.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together and nearly closed his eyes to emphasize “slightly”.

“Something slightly important,” Maze repeated dryly. He looked like he wanted to argue but must have seen the resolution in September’s expression, waving him off. “We’ll talk once you're done with whatever this is,” he commented, strolling with that same unruffled grace from the room.

September grinned. “Thanks Maze! You’re the best.”

His best friend responded by shutting the door after walking out. He let the dismissal bother him for the length of a heartbeat before leaning over the back of the couch and propping his chin in his hand, staring down at his sleeping beauty.

“How can he not think you’re pretty? He must be blind.”

He leaned his upper body over the couch and ran his fingers over Everest’s shaved head, taking his sweet time to find the large lump he’d accidentally given him when he’d surprised him in the school parking lot. Directly behind pretty boy’s right ear, September found the bump and watched Everest’s face tighten in a wince.

Heaving a long sigh, he bopped his nose with his pointer finger. “I thought you’d be more sturdy, little Carlan, and yet you broke so easily.”

September hadn’t meant to knock him out. He’d only wanted to startle him as he’d left the school and walked down the sidewalk towards the parking lot, pushing a little too hard. . .

Everest smacking into the brick wall and slumping to the floor, unconscious.

It had ruined September’s speech he’d planned out and everything, something that went along the lines of- “Did you miss me, pretty boy?”

Now it was too late. Of course, he still planned to say it when Everest finally opened his eyes and saw him standing there but it wouldn't have the same oomph.

Speaking of opening his eyes… September glanced at the grandfather clock in his room. They were losing precious time to discuss what September overheard the night down at the beach, before Maze so rudely interrupted by showing up to be a supportive friend.

His plan was time sensitive. The discussion he and his brothers had this morning made him bite back a smile at how easy it was to coerce them.

September had reminded August and Hatchet as they all sat at the large wooden dining room table during breakfast of Jeremiah Rose coming for their answer. Said they should have a back-up plan in case things went south.

When August frowned and asked what that meant September had smiled sweetly and said to prepare the young Carlans for them. Since the Rose's wanted revenge on the Carlans as much as they did it would be a good incentive to stop them from killing them.

September had been mildly surprised his suggestion had worked. Of course, Hatchet only cared about Evie so his drive was his revenge. And August only cared about pleasing Hatchet so he’d follow any directive given by him. After the news Jeremiah Rose owned their property the two hadn’t spoken once. So It made sense August would do whatever made his precious Hatchet happy.

It was all too easy. Manipulating his brothers. Using their weaknesses against them-

Acting just like his father.

As much as that little fact bothered him it would be worth it to have the time he needed to speak to pretty boy, alone. To find out what was actually going on.

He tapped Everest’s left cheek and muttered. “Wakey, wakey, pretty boy.”

When Everest just moaned in pain, September tsked. They only had fifteen minutes before Hatchet and August enacted their parts of the plan. Since the Roses wanted the Carlan’s, Zed devised that they hand them over as a trade: The Lamia deed for the Carlan family. Hatchet had been all for it with the exception Evie was his to deal with as he pleased. They wouldn’t bring the Carlans to them right away… first they would put them under their control and then when the Roses agreed to their terms, they would go fetch the whole family and bring them to the Roses with bows on their heads.

September had agreed to their decision-what choice did he have as the youngest?- while secretly crossing his fingers behind his back. No one would take pretty boy from himuntil he’d had a chance to speak to him about that conversation.

As far as his brothers knew September had Everest in some closet or classroom at the school completing his part.

Bringing pretty boy to their house while unconscious was going to make them a tad bit upset if they ever found out.

Oh well. I never was one to follow the rules. He was also not one to ignore the itch in the back of his mind that they were missing a larger piece of the puzzle. Somehow September had a good feeling pretty boy was going to help him find it and finish the true story.

He tapped him again. Harder this time.

But only if he woke up.

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Drago sucked in a fake, deep breath. "I have always loved the ocean." He shifted an amused glance at his dragging companion. "Haven’t you, brother?"

Jeremiah had been taking his sweet time in getting to the mansion, but now settled for next to his youngest brother, sniffing with disgust. "Ah, yes. The putrid stench of rotting fish really does something for a person." Drago chuckled and took a step closer to their newest property while Jeremiah took a step back. "Revenge is well and good, but did we have to come as well?"

Drago quirked his brow when he faced Jeremiah. "Wasn’t this your idea, dear brother?"

"It would seem so, yes." Jeremiah muttered in defeat. “But I’d rather hoped you’d handle it alone.”

“They’re not under my control,” countered Drago, smirking when Jeremiah scowled.

I could always make them under my control…but what’s the fun in that?

To everyone else Jeremiah was ill-tempered, the want of blood always heavy in his emerald eyes. He was the master of his own desires, and Jeremiah Rose usually got what he was after. When he didn’t, he would simply take care of whoever was standing in his way. The only one he humored was Drago. His only living brother.

Which was why when one of their pets informed them of Prince Zed looking for Jeremiah instead of the Lamia brats Jeremiah’s patience had waned on the idea of the truce. If the head Lamia had been in attendance with prince Zed then perhaps it would have shown good faith.

Drago sighed. They’re going to learn very quickly what happens when you’re on Jeremiah’s bad side.

Jeremiah whistled loudly and the sound of low grumbling drove into Drago's ears. For any humans nearby it would be like a gang of motorcycles was coming, but they couldn't be further from the truth.

"It will be quite the mess once they're through." Drago murmured and looked wistfully at the mansion. "They won't leave a hand carved stone in place."

Shadows of monstrous beings hovered over the two, their sounds of death and sorrow ringing out in an inharmonious tune. Drago typically enjoyed their suffering, but today he found it irritated him.

Jeremiah lifted a curved hand in the air and the monsters fell still.

He smiled, and Drago was thankful it wasn't aimed at him. "Good."

Shaking his head, Drago looked back at the once intimidating mansion, breaking apart in its foundation, weeds growing over large pane-glass windows. Their army had finally all arrived and Drago knew they would have no control once the order was sounded.

Humanity, he'd discovered, was mindless; neglecting trapped humans to have nothing but vampire blood slowly forced their bodies to rot from the inside out, and travel up to their brains where it ate away at their reasoning, their memories, and what made them human in the first place. Making them the perfect army to have at their disposal.

He looked back to Jeremiah, nodding in resignation. "Then for your sake, let us be done with this business, once and for all."

Jeremiah chuckled, soft dimples only adding to the silent terror that his brother was. With one swift movement, his hand flung forward, and the monsters raged around them, with only one mission in mind: to destroy.

"You're right, Drago," Jeremiah said quietly, the shrill screams of the soulless tearing from the outside to get in. "There is something about the ocean that puts one at ease."

Drago grinned. "Indeed, there is."

TWENTY THREE

Stay focused. Stay alert. Never let your guard down.

The mantra had been beaten (figuratively and literally) into Everest since he was old enough to read. Figuratively by his parents. Literally by the GARD’s training program.

What was also beaten into him was that anyone from the Nightrealm were monsters. When he was little his parents would read to him before bed, their choice of reading material that of makeshift children’s books created by the GARD filled with grotesque looking monsters with razor sharp claws, jagged fangs, and icicles jutting out of their skulls.

Why does he always cry? His mom would demand when Everest couldn’t deal with the drawings. His dad would pat her on the shoulder and say he was still young. A sensitive soul.

He’d grow out of it. He’d be like them.

His parents were still waiting for that day to come. So was Everest. Before he’d made the decision to quit the GARD he’d glance down at his hands and try to envision himself killing one of the bloodthirsty monsters he’d learned about since he was 5-years-old. Wanting to so badly believe he was just like his mom and dad -brave and strong- even though deep down he knew he was lying to himself. To them.

He'd been able to find comfort in thinking that any kid would be scared of seeing monsters… but then Terra, his not so sensitive souled younger sister had proven that theory wrong when her eyes would practically glow at hearing the part of the story where the head of the monster was sliced from their bodies, always begging their parents to tell them more.

Which was when Everest usually begged for them to stop.

Terra had always made fun of him for cowering on his bed, covering his eyes when he knew the gruesome parts were just on the next page. He'd remembered thinking (never out loud or he’d be disowned) --maybe the monsters just want to be friends. Maybe they’re nice.

No matter how hard his parents had tried, Everest never developed those same murderous desires as his family. He never looked at the monsters and wanted to cut their heads off like the cartoon boy and girl did in the books. To be completely honest (with no one but himself since he was sure if his parents ever knew they'd send him to reformation school) Everest wasn’t just scared of the monsters in the books. Sometimes when he began crying it was from something other than imagining those blood-filled eyes coming closer to kill him.

A feeling he'd never say out loud. . . because feeling anything but hate towards the Nightrealm was bad. Very, very bad.

Especially when he was the son of the esteemed captains of the GARD. He'd shuddered to think how much of a slap in the face that would be if any of his parent's higher-ups ever discovered the truth. What might happen to their standing.

Yet despite knowing all of that, he couldn't stop himself from feeling sympathy for the monsters- thought the kids were the evil and twisted ones. That no one would have to get hurt if they just left each other alone.

It was this reason he wiped his hands clean from following his parents' footsteps. The reason he avoided all conversation between them and Terra about the latest devices used for torture and what clan they were attacking next as if they were just planning their next weekend getaway or something. Why he hummed when he woke up hearing his mom having nightmares, and how no matter how tough or brave you thought you were, the truth was still there-- that you couldn't escape the monsters when you had become one yourself.

And even though Everest nearly died every time Evie talked about her time with her friend wearing a wistful smile, having to play dumb about knowing she used to be fodder for the Nightrealm, he was thankful he had someone in his house who also felt the same as he did.

But, as Everest opened his eyes against the pounding in his head, he’d realized he’d regret ever wanting the monsters to be nothing like monsters. Monsters that looked like him.

The skinny high school boy leaning over the back of the couch to look down at Everest was definitely lacking any blood-red eyes or jagged fangs. Although the smile he gave had the potential to be deadly.

Everest struggled to stare at him through the fog still dampening his focus as the boy's voice connected in his memory: "Sleeping beauty finally awakens, eh? I was starting to think I'd have to kiss you to break you from your slumber."

Everest's heart slammed in his chest, making him groan when his head joined the chaos. Tidbits and pieces of Everest's attack whipped into his mind.

The purple hair. The boy from the parking lot. The lilting voice that mocked him before Everest was thrown into a wall with such force he saw his life flash before his eyes.

A pretty bleak and boring existence, really. However, he had a bad feeling that was about to change real soon, though, especially when the boy smiled. “Did you miss me, little Carlan?”

Little Carlan? “W-who the hell are you?”

Black dots swam into his vision as the boy’s bowed mouth puckered into a pout. “I’m hurt you don’t remember me.” The boy rested his chin on his palm, his face pure innocence. “That’s okay...once I’m through with you I have full confidence that won’t happen again.”

Everest didn’t know what he was talking about, but he did know that sounded like a threat. “L-look… if y-you want money...or my car...it’s all yours-” just let me go.

The boy snorted. “Trust me, little Carlan...no one wants the thing you call a car or the fifteen dollars you have in your wallet.”

Everest tried to lift his head, regretting it instantly. He groaned. “Y-you went through my wallet?” If he didn’t want the money, then what did he want?

The boy answered his unspoken question. “But of course. I had to make sure you didn’t have any hidden weapons on you. I have to say… for being the son of the famed Carlans I thought for sure you’d have something to protect you,” the purple haired boy drawled, almost sounding disappointed. “Yet you have nothing. Why is that I wonder?”

The famed Carlans...? Weapons? Why would he be asking about that? Everest’s head panged with the connection, his head thumping in unison with his increased heart rate. There was only one reason that made sense. The purple haired boy was one of them. “Are you...N-Nightrealm?”

Everest's accusation was confirmed by the boy’s soft chuckle. "Took you long enough." Everest swallowed as his breathing picked up speed, his panic setting in. "I thought I was going to have to say it myself, and that would have been super anticlimactic,” he said with another pout. The boy appraised him slowly from head to toe. “I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.”

Everest sucked in a shaky breath as he managed to recall where else he’d seen him before, the flash of the memory of bumping into a boy with purple hair threatening to hit him harder than Terra had on their first day of school. He’d seen the same predatory look then as he had right before he’d been pushed into the wall, too.

All of Everest's training at the GARD was thrown through the very large window in front of him as he faced the Nightrealm boy who looked about as dangerous as Evie did. He tried to convince himself that there was no way this kid could be scary, yet his body picked up the cues of being in the presence of something dangerous, similar to when he’d accidentally bumped into him.

The need to hyperventilate settled in and there didn’t seem to be any paper bags around to help him out, so he did the second-best thing to calm him down. He rambled.

"Who are you? How did I get here? Did you bring me here? What do you want with me? What do you plan to do? Where am I? What's happening?" The more questions he asked the higher pitched his voice became, falling off into a squeak when he said the last word.

The boy continued watching him, amused. "You’re really cute when you’re scared.” Everest just blinked profusely at him as he continued, “it’s a good look on you.”

“Me? I am n-not scared.”

“And I’m the Easter bunny,” remarked the boy evenly. “As much as I would love to continue this back and forth while you try to convince yourself whatever it is you’re trying to convince yourself of--we’re on a bit of a schedule. So, to answer your first question, I brought you here, pretty boy. I didn't think anyone wanted to hear your moans anymore, so I took you to a much quieter place. Now you can be as loud as you'd like. No one else will hear it but me."

Violent chills rippled down his back while he tried to hold onto the boy's response, focusing on the last bit and determining it to be a threat. Did he really bring me here? He forced his blurry gaze to look up and down at the frail-looking boy and wondered how that could possibly be true.

The thump on his head, however, reminded him that obviously the information about vampires being supernaturally strong wasn't as fabricated as the rest of the lies he grew up believing were.

Something that made Everest think in a panic- if this scrawny kid knocked me out cold and carried me here. . . what else could he do?

Everest didn't know the answer to that, but he did know he didn't care to find out. He needed to get out of wherever he’d been brought. Thankfully, he was quick on his feet when cornered.

he pointed at the window and cried, “Look! The GARD’s here!”

The boy shifted his head to look to where Everest pointed.

Now’s my chance! His feet hit the ground without a second’s thought. Being on the track team would finally pay off if he managed to get away from the Nightrealm boy. He felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins and prayed it would be enough to overcome the probable concussion he was suffering from.

He was wrong. So very wrong.

Before he could even run toward the door on the opposite side of where the couch was, a wave of dizziness crashed into him and he stumbled, falling to the floor. He groaned, trying to stand up when he felt hands grip his arms and roughly flip him onto his back, the soft rug beneath his head still not stopping the starburst of pain or the whimper to escape him when his head thumped into the ground. The boy straddled him and clicked his tongue slowly, his head moving from side to side making Everest need to shut his eyes when he saw three of him.

“Did you honestly think you would get away that easily?” The boy pressed his fingertips to the side of Everest’s head, ignoring his gasp of pain. “Even without this ugly bump you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

The boy’s fingertips brushed the fairly large lump making Everest beg. "P-please...let me go."

He knew his begging wouldn’t have worked. It never did in the movies. Yet it was his last resort to escaping the bloodthirsty monster who was probably now going to drain him of all his blood.

Instead the boy sighed and brought his hand to his mouth, thoughtful. "Not yet.”

Not yet? That meant he would eventually, right? Everest fought back the emotional outburst ready to pour free from him as he waited for the boy to elaborate, hope warming through his chest. So, he doesn’t plan on killing me?

His assailant hummed and leaned closer to his face, and the building tears nearly slipped free. “Is it safe to assume the reason you look so pathetic is because of the bump? Not that I mind,” he reassured, which only made Everest fall into another whimper when the boy dropped his head to whisper next to his ear, "I like it when humans are vulnerable, especially when they're as cute as you."

Great. I’m going to be tormented because of winning the genetic lottery. The boy lifted up and hovered over him, his gaze intent on Everest’s face. Everest had never had someone invade his personal space like this before and it was unnerving, feeling like he was under a microscope, being examined.

The boy sighed. “There’s no way around it. It has to be done.”

Well, that didn’t sound good. “W-what has to be done...what...what are you doing?”

The boy silenced Everest by grabbing hold of his chin and immobilizing his head. In terror Everest watched the boy bite into his palm and then press it down over Everest’s mouth.

Everest realized too late what was happening as the boy forced his jaw open with his other hand allowing for his blood to slip past his lips, coating his tongue like burnt sugar.

For a second Everest froze. Then he connected with what was happening and tried to fight back. "So ungrateful," said the boy, easily deflecting the feeble attempts of Everest's struggle. "After I kindly took care of you after you so rudely passed out, and now I am trying to heal your fragile little skull, this is the way you thank me?"

Thank him? It’s his fault I have a concussion in the first place! Everest continued struggling against the forced consumption of the boy’s blood, kicking his legs and throwing his arms into the boy’s face in hopes of pushing him away.

He didn’t have much knowledge on what would happen if he ingested his blood, but it couldn’t be good if the only lesson he’d received from the GARD on the subject was- don’t do it.

He gave a feeble attempt at trying to pull the hand on his mouth and chin away. When that didn’t work, he came up with the great plan to slap his hands in the boy’s face, earning the muffled reply of, "so rude." Everest attempted to push him back until a sharp stinging entered his palm, making him cry out.

Did he just bite me? the boy grabbed his wrist with the hand that had been pushing his jaw open and trapped the one he was biting.

The boy eventually rescinded his teeth and gave him a look of warning. "Ungrateful and rude. Your parents did not raise you well at all." His eyes gleamed with malicious intent as they locked onto Everest, his mouth dragging slowly from his palm to his wrist. "Although I appreciated your little attempt at escape, my patience is gone. If we had ample time, I’d see how long it took you to tire yourself out before you gave up...except we don’t.”

He brushed a kiss to the pulse in his wrist, licking the blood dripping from the puncture wounds in Everest’s palm.

Everest's heart nearly flatlined as the demon murmured, "So, that being said...what will it be, little Carlan? Will you be a good boy and behave or are we going to do this the hard way? Before you answer, just remember I now have your blood in my system, and I can control this situation whenever I please. I’m giving you the opportunity to make the choice so I don’t have to take away your freedom. Well...all of it, anyway," he finished with a satisfied smirk, removing the hand covering Everest’s mouth.

Everest swallowed the last droplets of blood and felt them coagulate in his throat. Shit.

He’d forgotten about that. He’d forgotten a lot of important rules from his time in the GARD: staying alert. Never letting your guard down. Not getting kidnapped by a vampire. Not letting said vampire ingest his blood-

Nothing big. Just important shit.

His parents would be so upset with him if they saw him now. Heard him give in.

“If I d-do what y-you ask...will you l-let me go?” Everest cringed at how hopeful he sounded, knowing the boy heard it, too. It was emasculating, being rendered helpless by this wimpy looking brat with purple hair. He darted a pensive look to the boy's physique nearly hidden by the baggy blue knit sweater and skinny jeans with ripped holes where thin knees poked out. Despite Everest knowing better, he was still having difficulty in fathoming how someone so frail and soft looking could be so much stronger than him. He looked like one of those cute boys from South Korea Terra liked to watch dance--not a Nightrealm member who could kill him in the blink of an eye.

The boy let his finger drag over Everest’s chest up to his neck. “I promise -but if you keep looking at me like that I may not.”

Everest couldn’t stop the spike in his pulse at the excitement brightening the boy’s expression. Doing his best to mask whatever look he’d been giving he took in a shaky breath. “O-okay... I’ll stop trying to run then.”

“I thought as much. How’s your head? Better?”

Everest dragged his attention away from the boy and focused on the lump on his head, noting it didn’t hurt as badly. He nodded.

“Good. You may need more blood though…”

“I-I’m okay,” replied Everest quickly, jerking back when the boy brought his hand back to his mouth. The less connection to him the better. “J-just tell me what you want.”

The boy lowered his hand and shrugged as if to say suit yourself. “I’m going to skip beating around the bush and be direct with you: I overheard your conversation with Piggy -I mean...Evie the other night down at the beach and I want to know why you played along with her lie.”

There was so much in that one sentence that Everest was having a difficult time digesting what he said. “What lie? What are you talking about? How did you overhear my conversation--are you stalking me or something...ow!”

The boy flicked his mouth, hard, Everest crying out. “That hurt!”

“Good,” replied the boy. “Maybe next time it will stop you from saying such stupid things.” Tears dotted Everest’s narrowing eyes as the boy went on, nonplussed. “Change of plans...Only I get to ask the questions. You just answer. Got it?”

Everest sniffled but nodded again, still covering his stinging mouth.

“The night at the beach,” he began slowly, “you and Evie talked about the attack your family committed against the Lamias yet didn’t talk about what really happened. Why is that, little Carlan? Why would Evie, someone who was working for your family to plan the attack, need to hide that she lived with the Nightrealm to the son of the captains who orchestrated the raid?”

Everest’s heart thumped in anger. “What are you talking abou- Evie wasn’t working with my parents...she was just a kid!” he finished with a flinch when the boy raised his hand to flick him again. Instead, he lowered Everest’s hand still protecting his mouth and stared into his eyes. “Tell me the truth,” he commanded harshly, Everest’s eyes locking on the boy’s, his brain forcing him to tell the boy everything. “Why did you both lie to one another?”

“B-because I had no choice! Evie thinks we’re a normal family-she has no idea my parents were involved or that they’re the ones who killed her precious friend,” he spat, his ears burning hot.

The boy tilted his head. “How can I be sure you’re telling me the truth? Maybe I should see if the manipulation worked...” he reached into his back pocket and pulled out Everest’s phone, his eyes unable to widen as they were still locked onto the boy’s. “Write a text to your parents and tell them you’ve decided to become a companion for the Nightrealm.”

A what? Everest didn’t know the extent of what he was being told to do but he knew it would piss his parents off to the point of beating him when he got home. Taking the phone he opened up a text and pleaded, “I..I swear I’m telling you the truth...please don’t make me send this...”

He watched in horror the words being typed out, his heart pounding in his throat as he finished the sentence, his thumb hovering over the sent button. The boy slipped it from his fingers and read his message over, humming.

“I’m still not convinced. You could be a really good actor. What else can you do to prove it?”

“L-listen...I have no reason to lie to you, man. I’m not exactly in a position to think it would save me.”

“This is true...but you’re also the son of very trained parents who live to destroy my kind, so it wouldn’t surprise me if you’d found a way to maneuver around the control.”

“Maybe if I’d stayed in training I would have. . . but I quit before I could even meet a real vampire so there’s no way I could. . . and to be honest I don’t think anyone can. I think it’s like one of those ‘duck and cover’ situations where you’re taught to do something even though it’s still gonna kill you in the end sort of deals--” at least, that’s what Terra told me.

The boy considered him for a moment and Everest held his breath. “Fine. I’ll believe you for now. Just be warned little Carlan, if I find out you’re lying to me, I won’t be so nice the second time we meet.”

There’s going to be a second time? Why? “I promise I’m telling you God's honest truth.”

“Okay then... tell me everything- how Evie ended up living with you, why she doesn’t know she’s living with her supposed friend’s killers-”

The door crashed open. The boy snarled and focused on the interruption-“Maze, I said to wait for me to be done-”

the boy’s voice trailed off and a gargled screech filled the room.

“Little Carlan...out of curiosity…did the GARD teach you about zombies at all?”

“Zombies? N-no.” he saw the grim set of the boy’s mouth and asked the question he knew he didn’t want answered. “Why do you ask?”

A loud hiss made Everest’s blood freeze. The boy grimaced.

“Because I think we’re about to be attacked by one.”

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Terra jumped away from August. “Don’t move any closer,” she hissed, her head glancing behind her. August heard the sharp intake of air, the raised pulse as she searched for the thing she wanted.

He smiled. “Okay.”

This is going better than I expected. He thought distracting the revered daughter of the famed Carlans would have been much harder. More of a battle. That she would have been distrusting of everything and anyone. Especially when he’d told her he’d come to kidnap her.

Terra had surprised him. She had gone with him willingly when he’d explained where he wanted to take her and how important it was, following him blindly to the field behind the school, next to the gym.

How foolish can she be to follow me here. . . alone? August watched Terra back away from him slowly, her expression taut. She lifted a finger to her lips, warning, “no sudden movements.”

He snorted at her demanding tone while she slowly crouched down next to a small garden filled with wildflowers and thick bright green vines, clicking her tongue repeatedly.

“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...”

August bit back a triumphant laugh. Too easy.

He wondered if Hatchet was having just as much of an easy time as well. After the past two weeks of dealing with the Roses and their ultimatum, of Zed and Maze arriving from Spain to assist them in using the legal system to get them out of the Roses debt-- Hatchet had to put his revenge plot on the backburner.

God, there was so much that happened he couldn’t wrap his brain around it.

Don’t lose focus. She could still surprise you. Shaking off the weight of the burdens he watched Terra Carlan for any sign of attack. She was coaxing a mangy kitten out of some bushes and seemed to be completely involved in the task.

But she was a GARD agent. He wasn’t going to relax just yet.

When September stuck him with her he’d been annoyed. Now he was glad. It was all going so smoothly. September would have used force if he got stuck with her. August’s secret ability came in handy for these types of situations. No violence needed. Just coercion.

It was how he’d gotten her to agree to leave with him in the first place. How he’d planned to make her leave with him the second time.

It had surprised him, then, when the second he’d mentioned needing to take her to help him save a kitten behind the school that she’d readily agreed.

A coldhearted demon killer. . . weak for cute animals.

Terra opened her mouth to make an “oh” sound as the fairly small black and white kitten peeked its head out from the bush. It rubbed up against some yellow flowers and tried to eat one.

Terra’s features warmed like cold butter on hot pancakes. She looked his way. “She’s so cute.”

“She? How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just know,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. August watched her scratch the top of the kitten’s head, its tail rubbing up against her, and he had to admit there was a certain charm about her when she didn’t look like she wanted to murder everyone she crossed paths with.

Despite being busy with trying to get the deed back to their home August had been keeping an eye on the Carlans and Evie, ensuring none of them left or showed signs of catching on to their impending doom.

He thought it would make Hatchet less mad towards him after the whole “accidentally selling their family home to their sworn enemies” business.

Gaining intel on their lesser enemies and learning their schedules made August’s plan foolproof from failing.

Evie had drama club every Wednesday until 3:30pm. Terra stayed to wait for her. Everest went into town to check in with his parents before heading back to grab Terra and Evie to take them home or had track practice until 4pm.

None of them had other people they hung out with outside of school except Evie. And Terra made it well known she didn’t like Evie’s friend so that rarely happened.

The fact there had been a boy standing with Terra Carlan at the lockers had taken him by surprise since she didn’t come off as the type to enjoy idle chit chat.

Or people.

Or general pleasantries.

If he was honest neither did he, their silence stretching comfortably between them. Much more peaceful than I expected while in the presence of my enemy.

He spoke too soon.

The moment he relaxed a little she broke the quiet afternoon with a drawn out sigh, her full bottom lip puckering. Standing up, she straightened, the softness leaving her face as it tensed, giving him a look so cold he would have shuddered if he had the ability to do so.

She placed her lean arms on her hips. “Let’s cut the crap, shall we?”

August frowned. “I’m sorry?”

She merely gave a harsh laugh. “You’re going to play dumb...okay.” she muttered to herself, not realizing August heard every single word thanks to his impeccable hearing. Then louder while crossing her arms across her chest, “You all think you’re so smart, don’t you? Like I really can’t figure it out?”

To his credit he kept his expression clear of anything that would give him away. Damn it...the GARD trains them better than we thought. September might actually be in trouble then, if he wasn’t careful. August went to cross his own arms but stopped when he realized it might come off as defensive. Inciting her to attack.

No violence.

Not yet.

He listened to her heart rate steady out, his mouth setting in a thin line. Just keep playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She lifted her head and looked up at the clear blue sky. “Okay. Have it your way.” When she lowered her gaze, her expression was a mixture of pity and conceit, her voice resolute as she informed him. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but let me be clear: I’m not interested.”

August blinked. “I’m sorry, you’re not interested in what?”

“In dating losers or delinquents,” she explained in a condescending tone.

He felt his mouth lift into a tight smile. “And you’re telling me this why-” except he already gathered this was what she thought of him, wanting him to understand he was beneath her. Like Hatchet and his father used to when he was a kid.

The feeling rankled with him and his determination to not resort to violence was quickly fading as she went on, oblivious to his fleeting good mood.

“I’ll say this-the kitten needing help is new. No one else has tried that one yet. But the “I need help with homework” and asking if Nero’s my boyfriend--give me a freaking break.”

August blinked in surprise. No... she doesn’t think I’m. . .no. He should have felt relieved she went in this direction and played along. But her condescension rankled him.

He pointed to his chest and shook his head. “Hold up...I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding...”

“Sure, there has,” she said, mocking agreement.

Breaking his no defensive rule he became irritated, running a hand through his blue hair. “No, I’m serious. You’re reading into the situation a little too much-”

She interrupted him, something that immediately pissed him off. “Whatever, dude. If you want to deny it now that I’ve said no to heal your wounded male ego that’s fine- I don’t care. But after today never come near me again or we will be having a very different conversation.”

“Wow....wow.” he watched her, struck. She looked so sure of herself. Confident. For some reason it made him mad, that conceited pride of someone who didn’t know rejection made him want to be the one who gave her a taste.

Like Hatchet. Like September.

Like his father.

The more he’d tried to break them the stronger that confidence became.

He needed to break them. Needed to break her.

Rejecting her back wouldn’t do the trick. If anything, it would only solidify her belief his male ego was wounded, like she’d said.

No, August had to be smart to wipe that cocky smile off her pretty face.

He knew exactly how to do it, too.

It was risky. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered than knocking her off her pedestal.

She began to walk towards him to leave when she made the mistake of looking at him, giving him the opening he needed. His eyes locked on hers as he ordered sharply. “don’t take another step.”

She clicked her tongue at him. “You really have some balls, don’t you…” her body slammed to a stop like she’d hit an invisible wall. Alarm crossed her features. She whipped her gaze down to her feet and then back up at him in apprehension.

He relaxed. Yes, that’s the look. “You should have just enjoyed petting the kitten and not made a big deal out of it. Now look at the mess you’ve created.”

“. . .what?”

He continued, smirking. “Believe it or not Terra Carlan, I’m not here to confess to you. In fact, I’m only out here with you because my brother is currently going after your sister Evie to hurt her -don’t worry,” he said in the same tone she’d used to turn him down, “you won’t remember any of this or be able to save her after I make you forget everything you’ve just heard in a couple of minutes. . .”

Her chest rose and fell in a staggered breath. “Blood,” she hissed. August watched the fear darken her eyes as he confirmed her answer with a dazzling smile. He took a step towards her and she tried to brace for his attack, her arms coming up to protect her neck. Like he wanted nothing but her blood. Her heart rate was no longer steady, and it made him chuckle. I don’t need to attack you...not when I have complete control of our encounter. “You caught me. Know something else? I’m not the only one, either.”

Terra’s hand raced towards her back pocket. “Freeze,” he commanded sharply.

Her hand froze in midair. Her expression filled with rage, yet her heart-rate showed she was alarmed. “What the hell?”

“I shouldn’t be taking such a risk in showing you this little gift of mine but it’s worth it to see you so powerless right now.”

“H-how? I...I don’t understand...!”

“You don’t understand how I’m not confessing to you? Or that I’m able to control you without needing your blood?” he saw her grit her teeth and try to look enraged despite the tremor in her arms and the pulse bouncing wildly in her neck. “I guess the GARD doesn’t do a good job training its recruits- oh, if you could see your face right now...it’s utterly priceless.”

“Damn it, I knew I wouldn’t help someone do homework!”

He lifted his head and let out a deep laugh. She sounded so petulant it was kind of cute. “If it makes you feel any better you tried not to, remember?”

She snarled. “How the hell are you doing this?”

He stepped close to her and leaned down so they were eye to eye. “Magic,” he whispered and wiggled his fingers close to her face.

He grinned when her pulse spiked again and she tried to move her arms to hit him.

“Get the hell out of my face, blood!”

“Why?” he asked curiously, getting so close their noses almost touched. She exhaled sharply but continued snarling, her nose scrunching up in disgust. “Afraid I’ll kill you- or is it that being this close makes you want to fall in love with me...?”

Her eyes had narrowed to slits when he asked about her being afraid he would kill her but nearly popped out of her head when taunted about falling in love with him.

“I’d rather cut my own arm off and choke on it,” she growled.

August smiled slowly. “I wonder... how terrible would it be to fall in love with a blood?” Her eyes flashed with murder which made him add, “should we find out?”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Her heart was thrumming so fast he couldn’t count the beats. He gave a silent chuckle. “You’re more afraid I’ll make you fall in love with me than ordering you to cut off your own arm.” He shook his head. “You’re so weird.”

Terra demanded through gritted teeth. “I said to get out of my face.”

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He fished it out and looked at the name on the screen. “Lucky for you I have to take this.” He straightened and she let out a sharp breath. “You stay right there and be quiet.” She bared her teeth at him, and he smirked. “It’s my brother calling to tell me how yours is doing. He’s a bit rough,” he admitted, Terra gasping and struggling to break free of his hold, sweat beading her forehead. “Hopefully your brother is into that.”

Her expression filled with shock. Answering September’s call, he grinned. “Tell me the good news.”

“Well...I would...if there was any.”

Horrible screeches and wails filled his ear. It resembled the sounds September’s companions used to make when they’d upset him, and he showed them his displeasure.

That was not part of the plan. Not yet. “September...what the hell did you do?” Terra’s brows rose a fraction and he could see she was trying to decipher what was going on.

He’d do the exact same if he was in her shoes.

Thank God he wasn’t.

September groaned. “Believe it or not, it’s not my doing.”

“W-what the heck are they?” stammered a deep male voice.

August growled. “Who the hell is that?”

“So...I know you said not to bring the Carlans to our home, but...oops.”

“You brought him to our house?” demanded August in a growl, ignoring the growing screeches over the phone. Feeling Terra’s eyes on him he turned, snapping quietly, “that wasn’t part of the plan.”

September clicked his tongue. “For someone who looks so tough you’re such a scaredy cat.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you, brother. I’m talking to Pretty boy.” Then with an irritated sigh, he commanded, “just hide behind the couch or something. Maze, can you keep this idiot alive for me, please? I’m not done with him yet.”

August had lost all of his patience. “September! What the hell do you want?”

“Ah...sorry, brother. It’s a little hectic over here. I’m calling to let you know we’re currently under attack by some weird looking zombie creatures...and Maze, Zed, and I could use your and Hatchet’s assistance.”

“You’re being attacked by what?”

“August,” exclaimed a clipped Zed in the background. “The Rose clan is retaliating.”

“Retaliating how?”

September answered. “Apparently with some zombie army they created.”

“This can’t be happening,” wailed Everest, followed with a whimper.

August gripped the phone tightly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not-” September grunted and the loud wail that rang into the phone suddenly went quiet.

Flicking a dark look at Terra he saw her still trying to fight his hold. “This is not a good time for this.”

September yelled at him. “Too bad. So sad. Get home soon. If there’s one left by the time you get here.” August didn’t have a chance to respond. The phone line went dead.

He flung it back in his pocket and returned to his prisoner who was too busy getting her arms to unfreeze to notice him.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Terra gasped but did so immediately, her eyes betraying her shock. How uncanny that she looked the same as Evie used to when he used to do the same thing to her when they’d been kids.

He shook off the memory. “It looks like we’ll have to wait to continue this on another day. Until then, you’re not going to remember this conversation. You’ll only remember I brought you out here to show you a kitten and to...confess my feelings for you,” he forced himself to say. Terra responded with a blank look, her mouth parting slightly and her frown lines easing. “You agreed to hang out with me and have decided to stay out here with the kitten until Evie’s drama club ends in 25 minutes. When I leave you can move and speak.”

She blinked. Then blinked again.

But he didn’t stay to see if his coercion worked.

He went to find Hatchet.

Only looking back at her once.

TWENTY-ONE

Hatchet had waited for this day to come.

Waited for it like he’d waited to be found in that pitch-black room after he’d woken up.

Waited to finally have Evie at his mercy.

She had made it so obvious.Had she not reacted so abruptly that day in class he wouldn’t have been sure. His powers were still out of whack and the golden hue he’d seen around her the first day of school hadn’t returned since. Not that that mattered anymore. Not after he’d confirmed it was her by the taste of her blood.

How he’d managed to not rip her head off as soon as she said his name was a testament to his patience; his desire to draw out what he had in store for her.

I always was a firm believer that medicine should be given a spoonful at a time.

Evie must have recognized her demise behind his cold gaze, too, her cheeks streaked with tears and her lips trembling.

“H-hatchet? Y-you’re alive?” she whispered through a sob.

He answered by showing his fangs, his eyes flashing. “Oh, I’m alive-no thanks to you-” Hatchet fell off in a grunt as Evie somehow managed to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him close to her. He released the hand around her neck and worked at disentangling her embrace. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I c-can’t...I can’t believe you’re alive.” She buried her face into his sweater and sobbed, clinging to him like a child would their mother. “H-hatchet...”

This is not what she’s supposed to do. He expected her to cry, yes. But hug him? Hold on for dear life when she knew he’d want to kill her after her betrayal? This was not part of the plan.

He had no idea how to deal with it, either.

Hatchet had planned everything down to the letter. Nothing had been off. And yet there he was- his arms struggling to push her off of him- her grip tightening.

Once again, Evie had caught him off guard.

What went wrong? He stared at the frizzy strands pushing off of the crown of her head. He had said the threatening lines, had seen the recognition dawning on her face, watched the fear clouding her warm hazel gaze, and waited as her body went rigid, meaning she would run.

Oh, she had run alright, he seethed. Right into my arms.

Evie hadn't moved since attaching herself to him, her sobs pressing into the cotton of his black and grey striped zip up hoodie. "Hatchet," she said in between a sob, her breathing catching on the second syllable.

His lips twitched. She may have caught me off guard, but she is still human. She is still weak.

“Look at me.” he demanded with a sharp rasp, hating the way it coated his throat like he swallowed gravel. He had never used this power before and it felt alien to him, unnatural. Even without having practice Evie still lifted her puffy face towards him in uncertainty. “H-hatchet?”

“Release me now.”

Evie’s arms obeyed immediately, and she sucked in a shaky breath. “Hatchet...what are you...?

He stopped her from finishing the question by grabbing her by the throat and pushing her back into the doors, her yelp falling on deaf ears.

"You stupid, foolish, girl," he said through his teeth. Evie's eyes widened and her hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging at it to no avail. "You still have no sense of survival, even after all these years."

“I...I don’t understand...w-why are you doing this?” she whispered. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and Hatchet had to harden his resolve to not comfort her. Muscle memory from a past life. A past him.

Don’t fall for her tricks again. You’re smarter now.

Hatchet straightened, remembering her tears were all for show. "After what you did to me, and you didn't expect that I'd return payment in kind?" He loomed closer, waiting for the terror that had to be hiding underneath the surface of her well-played act. When confusion only bloomed on her face, he squeezed his hand a little tighter, whispering. "Oh, the plans that I have for you, Evie...I’ve had so many long days to think of every detail, down to your final breath."

“H-hatchet...please...”

His chest tightened from the helplessness in her voice. No... don’t fall for it. “Begging won’t save you now.”

“If this is about me not coming back for you, I’m sorry.... but I thought you were dead. I watched you die in my arms!” She cried, her expression pleading with him to understand.

She thought that was enough as an explanation. She had no idea it was the worst choice of words she could have uttered in his presence. How she could so easily discuss her attempt to kill him like it had pained her all these years.

Hatchet’s teeth cracked under the pressure of her confession, struggling to keep from breaking her neck right then and there. Evie looked stricken, and the faint color surrounding her was not the color of fear, but of grief- the black fog enveloping her.

Hatchet found himself speechless. How dare she think she has the right to be sad when this was her doing.

Evie took his silence as encouragement, adding in a sob, “I didn’t know, Hatchet...I’m sorry.”

Cold hazel eyes flashed in his mind’s eye, the childlike voice telling him- I’m sorry Hatchet. It’s the only way.

“Sorry?” he repeated, trembling with rage. “You stab me in the back and leave me to die and all you can say to me is you’re sorry?”

“W-what?”

He went on, his eyes flashing. “You locked me in a room to die and you’re sorry? You betrayed me and my family and you think you get to apologize?”

Evie’s mouth fell open. “Hatchet..I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“-SHUT UP!” Evie flinched at his scream, his chest heaving rapidly and his hand fighting to not press into her windpipe. Disliking the mocking echo still reverberating in the rafters, the sound of losing control, he lowered his voice, finishing in a trembling breath. “I won’t fall for your lies anymore.”

Evie opened her mouth, her lips forming his name- yet no sound came out.

He needed to calm down. Needed control. She was supposed to have run. Supposed to have begged for forgiveness. Not openly talked about trying to kill him like it was nothing and say sorry like she did the day of the raid.

It only took a few seconds for Evie to realize she wasn’t able to speak, the color surrounding her shivering to a dark blueish purple.

“You better be afraid,” he said in a tight whisper, his fingers loosening their grip around her neck. “After I’m done with you, maybe I’ll lock you in the same room you put me in and leave you there -in the dark- to die alone. It would be a fitting end for you, wouldn’t it, Evie? Dispensable human trash.”

It was the one thing he’d promised to never say to her. How times had changed.

Whether it was his promise to repay in kind for what she’d done to him or the insult, streams of tears now slipped off her face and splattered on his hand, her head shaking no, desperately attempting to speak despite knowing she wouldn’t be able to from his command.

Someone knocked on the door outside of the auditorium. Evie stiffened, her sob falling quiet. Her fear was charged with something else, her head whipping her head from side to side, her mouth forming the word please to him.

For a moment he thought she was trying to call for help. When her pleading gaze locked on him, he understood her sudden panic, his mouth crooking up in a sneer. “I wonder who is trying to interrupt us,” he murmured. “Let’s invite them in and see if they want to join our party...”

Evie didn’t like this answer, and she grabbed onto his hand so he couldn’t open the door. He easily deflected her by ordering, “don’t touch me.”

Her hands locked up and slowly pulled back as if on strings. She gave him a scared look just as a knock came again.

“Come in,” called Hatchet. Thinking it was one of her new family members he told them while the door was slowly pulled open, “Evie is in here, having a little chat with me. . . what do you want?” he demanded loudly, finding not one of the Carlans but August.

August looked as unhappy to see him as Hatchet did, the tension between them still palpable. “I know this is bad timing, but we have to get back home now. The Roses have issued an attack of some kind...I don’t know. September wasn’t making much sense on the phone. All I know is we have to go. Now”

He spared Evie a hostile glance before focusing on Hatchet, who was torn between telling August to deal with it or leaving with him. As the head of the Lamia clan now he had to make the call of what took precedence: Evie...or his home?

“Are you sure he’s not lying?” Hatchet didn’t look away from Evie, her expression a little too relieved it wasn’t her family for his liking.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw August nod. “Zed confirmed he was telling the truth.”

Hatchet let air out through his teeth. “Damn it.” August waited quietly for his decision, the only one Hatchet could make. “Give me two minutes to finish up here. I’ll meet you out front.”

August turned and pushed the door open. “You’re the boss.”

He didn’t miss the sarcastic tone. When the door shut and it was just the two of them again, Hatchet locked eyes on Evie’s wide ones filled with terror. “Don’t think you’re safe because we got interrupted. I’ll be back for you. Not that you’ll remember until it’s too late.”

Evie’s face filled with anguish as he commanded, “you will forget about this entire conversation and you will forget I am alive. You were only in this part of the school because drama practice went later than expected. As soon as I leave you can return to normal. Is that clear?”

Evie had been struggling to fight the hold when he first started but now gave him a look that was slack, empty. Blank. He released his hand from her neck and opened the auditorium door.

“Next time,” he promised her. “You won’t escape me.”

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Evie crumpled to the floor the second the auditorium door clattered shut.

Not remembering when she got back there. Or why she was crying. Or why her heart hurt like she’d just lost someone.

With a trembling hand she wiped the moisture off her cheeks and pulled it away, seeing the tears glisten under the auditorium lights. A dull ache ran across her neck and she absentmindedly rubbed at it. What is going on?

Her mind was pitched in darkness, giving her no answers. Only letting one name run through her head.

Hatchet.

Hatchet.

Hatchet.

TWENTY THREE

Lewis sagged in the chair, the metal spikes pushing through his arms lancing him when an involuntary shudder ran through him. He didn’t know how many days it was since he’d been brought from the bunker to the interrogation room.

His skin had melted and healed itself thousands of times, the black liquid the GARD had created never ending. Every time that horrible bitch came back clacking in her little heels, she had plenty more for him.

He’d already tried escaping after all the humans left him to suffer in silence. He’d thought if he could deal with the agony of trying to push the cuffs out of his arm, he might be able to break the clasps and free himself. He’d been wrong. It had been so painful he’d passed out from it, his blood dripping into puddles on the concrete floor from the damage he’d inflicted, weakening him further. He’d hoped someone would come for him, like Alan and Clarent. However, based on the length of time he’d been there he’d sincerely doubted Alan and Clarent were still alive.

His best friends…. yet he was too weak to cry for their likely deaths.

He’d thought the ones who’d hired them would have come to rescue him thinking loyalty was still something his kind could rely on. When days had turned into a week he’d succumbed to the cold truth that those noble assholes weren’t coming for him. And there was no more loyalty.

That bastard left us to die…after he was the one who told us to go in and mess shit up.

Lewis had put his faith in that loyalty. Believed it was thicker than words.

So what was the point of him getting tortured when they didn’t care? Who the hell was he trying to protect anymore?

It was a waste. He was so tired. Mustering all the energy he had he croaked to the camera, always watching him-“I give up. You win-” planning to tell them everything he knew. Which wasn’t a hell of a lot.

All he knew for certain was they wanted him and his crew to incapacitate anyone at the warehouse while also searching for a steel case located somewhere at the bunker. Lewis had no idea what time it was or when the evil woman would come back to continue her torture, but he was surprised when the door to his torture chamber creaked open and a woman he’d never seen before stepped in.

She wore the same uniform the other officers wore, except her head was covered with a large baseball hat that had black hair stuffed inside it. Everyone else who had visited him had their hair pinned up or cut short (he’d remembered every single one so if he did ever escape, he could kill all of them). Nerves laced up his spine as she carefully shut the door.

He didn’t understand why that was until he caught the nearly nonexistent heartbeat beneath her dark green issued blazer. “You’re not human,” he said, his eyes bloodshot and his throat parched from lack of blood.

Her nearly black eyes narrowed. “Not anymore.”

Lewis brightened, forcing his head up in relief. “You guys came by the skin of your teeth, you know.” She took a step forward. “I should have known you’d come for me eventually. Took your sweet time getting here though.”

She didn’t say anything. Casting an uncomfortable look over her shoulder he chided. “If you don’t want us to get caught, we need to hurry. These cuffs…I can’t take them off myself. I need you to undo them.” He was busy looking at the mechanisms keeping the steel cuffs in place so he didn’t see her pull something from her front pocket.

“I think you may need some picks or to go find a key. This shit is too fancy for me,” he began and lifted his head- a needle jamming straight into his chest. Lewis opened his mouth and trailed his shocked eyes up to her. Poison coursed into his veins, corroding them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was you or my family.”

He stared, unable to say a word as his imminent death was more painful than anything the GARD had done to him the past week.

His last thought before it burned its way through his heart:

But I was one of you.

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“I’m so sorry.”

Nicole continued telling the dying blood this over and over as he rotted away, his skin and veins sizzling and revealing bone and marrow hidden beneath. The sight made her want to throw up- a human reaction that didn’t work with her new anatomy anymore- as the man she had to kill looked to be melting. Whatever Drago had given her to inject him not only killed him instantly--it disintegrated him.

She was supposed to wait and make sure there was nothing left of him, yet she couldn’t handle the stench of rotting flesh any longer, dashing from the room and escaping down the hall where Drago had altered the cameras to show there was no activity. She headed for the emergency stairwell down the long white painted hall and didn’t glance back once. She’d kept her face obscured from any accidental sightings, the hat hiding her hair which would be a dead giveaway. Scared, she jogged fifteen feet to the door and pushed the large handle to let her in. The second it shut she fell back against it, letting out a shuddering breath.

This isn’t me. I’m not a killer. Nicole tried to comfort herself by thinking of her family’s safety, of the promise Jeremiah and Drago had made that if she pleased them her own family would come to no harm.

After Jeremiah had injected her with whatever poison he’d had, Nicole had blacked out the moment the fire seared into her veins. When she’d come to, she’d been in a small square room lying on the cold, concrete floor. It was void of anything else except a man she’d recognized from one of the Gard training camps. He was unconscious and lying on his stomach, blood seeping from a wide gash in his head.

Nicole had scrambled up, crawling with difficulty to him.

“Hey…wake up. We need to get out of here…” She trailed off, and lifted her hand covered in his blood. Nicole’s throat had constricted, her mouth salivating. No...she’d tried to fight it, the scent of iron coating her nose and making her throat burn, but she wanted it. Wanted it so bad.

Whatever Jeremiah had done to her had made her not repulsed by the sight and scent of the blood. It had done the opposite.

The realization had made her scream. Scream until it felt like the skin inside her esophagus was raw. Scream until the door had opened and in walked a young man who she’d learn later on was Drago Rose looked too calm to have come to save her. Without a word he’d strutted over to her and flipped the unconscious man onto his back.

Nicole had sobbed. “He’s bleeding out…he won’t wake up.”

The beautiful young man’s mouth quirked up. “I know.” In the same amused lilt, he glanced at her and dragged the man closer to her. Nicole stumbled backward on her hands, bumping into the concrete wall. He merely followed her and informed her sharply:

“Your time limit is almost up, girl. If he dies, I will make you kill the next one to feed.”

Nicole shook her head back and forth and sobbed, realizing no moisture came out. How could someone who appeared so angelic be so cold to a man dying? “What happened to me? What did he do to me?”

“Humans… you all ask such stupid questions.” He leaned down and dragged Nicole’s chin toward him, his golden eyes piercing as they locked on her. “My brother turned you. And you survived the change. The first out of many failed experiments. It seems whatever counteractive agent the GARD gave you was not administered to the other recruits. You’re lucky. Their deaths looked quite painful.”

Other recruits? Lucky? Nicole’s throat had coated with bile. The dead girls... it was him? Then that meant she’d been next, didn’t it? Yet she was still alive…

As alive as she could be.

Her teeth ached where he squeezed her cheeks, making it hard for her to respond. “From this day on you belong to us now. If you attempt to betray us or alert anyone your family dies. By your hands.” Nicole whimpered as he brought her face close to his, her eyes locked open while he added coldly. “And then...I will kill you.”

Nicole’s chin had been released and he stood up. “You only have a couple of minutes to feed from him. Since you seem reluctant to accept your transition, I’ll mention the person I’ll have you kill first is your dear friend Travis from your office if this one dies.”

Nicole’s eyes widened in disbelief. In terror.

He waved a dismissive hand at her and strolled from her makeshift prison. “Tick tock, tick tock.”

Before he’d gotten to the door Nicole had tried pleading with him. “Please…I.. I can’t do it!”

“Too bad,” he’d replied indifferently. Nicole had made a sound between a scream and a sob. “His heartbeat is almost still. This is the only choice you will get to make from here on out. I’d suggest you make it wisely.”

The door had shut her in with the dying man and the scent of blood slammed into her.

When Drago had come back, he’d found Nicole convulsing on the cold ground. The man now lifeless drained of all his blood.

The choice she’d made to survive.

To kill or be killed.

And that decision made her into something she’d never thought she’d become:

a monster.

A buzzing in her jacket pocket brought her back to the present. Scrambling to fish it out she flipped it open and brought the receiver to her ear. “H-hello?”

A musical voice asked her in a crisp tone. “Is it done?”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Good.” Nicole sagged in relief at how pleased he sounded. It was short-lived. “You can return after you do one last thing.”

Nicole tensed. One more thing? “W-what do you need me to do?”

Drago chuckled. “Don’t sound so scared, girl.” Nicole flinched, praying that piece of human weakness didn’t bite her in the ass later on. “You don’t have to kill anyone else today. All you need to do is get the schedule of one of your agents for me.”

Nicole’s nearly un-beating heart stopped. “An agent sir?” Images of Travis flitted into her mind. She brought the phone close to her mouth and whispered. “Which agent?”

While Drago took his sweet time in answering Nicole held her breath and prayed it wasn’t her best friend.

he eventually answered with a contented sigh. “Terra Carlan.”

Nicole reflexively exhaled before realizing what he’d asked. “Who?”

“I will not repeat myself. You have thirty minutes to get back here before I’ve decided you’ve gone rogue.”

Nicole stuttered on the phone. ‘I-I h-heard you sir…but I… I can’t do what you are asking of me-” she heard the click and the phone line went dead. She lowered the phone, shaking in dread, with only one question running through her mind: What does he want with Terra Carlan?

TWENTY-TWO

Jackie stared at the main hall and inwardly screamed. What the hell?

He’d been gone for only an hour. What the hell did they do in an hour?

The grocery bags in his hands slipped to the floor as his mouth gaped at the horror show in front of him.

The main hall was covered in what looked like black sludge that came straight from the sewers.

He’d come back after going to the market on the order of September who’d demanded he go buy him a bunch of cakes and cookies. The cakes and cookies now smashed and dropped on the dirty marble floor. I’m going to kill them- and by “kill them” he was going to give them a piece of his mind. The first one to show themselves was going to get an earful.

Jackie had spent days cleaning their damn mansion. He was not going to do it just because they told him he was their servant now.

The door behind him flung open. Now was his chance.Spinning on his heel he used his righteous anger to scold whichever one was coming in, “I am not going to clean this mess up, you hear me?” turning around he finished with, “you brats are going to-”

Jackie’s pupils dilated at the half rotting human in front of him, their eyes a mix of blood and black. It staggered inside the doorway, patches of skin rotting off of its arms and face, its teeth jagged and sharp.

Then it lunged for him with a bloodthirsty scream. And all Jackie could do was cover his face and cry out.

The scream of the monster withered into a gurgling sound, the thump of something heavy hitting the tile. “Old man?”

Jackie lowered his shaking hands down to find the familiar crop of purple hair. He was covered in the same black mess that was all over the foyer, completely unharmed. “I forgot about you. Are you alright?”

Jackie broke his terrified gaze away from September and slowly trailed it down to the heap on the floor. He pointed with a trembling finger. “W-what the hell is that?”

September replied with an unaffected air. “I think zombies, but it’s anyone’s guess.” He picked up the zombie-monster-thing and went to drag it back through the front door. “I thought I’d gotten all of them. Looks like one straggled behind.”

The rustling of paper bags caught September’s attention and he stopped dragging to look at the cause. His face lit up. “Ah, my cookies! This is perfect after all that hard work I just had to do.”

He released the dead thing and grabbed one of the paper bags. “You’re not busy right now, right?”

Jackie shook his head, still horrified.

“Great!” cried September, beaming as if there wasn’t a dead monster thing resting near his feet or that it didn’t try to kill Jackie mere moments ago. He practically skipped the few feet to Jackie and pushed the paper bag into his sweat drenched chest. “Can you bring these to my room, please? I have a guest who could use a nice sugar rush right about now.”

A guest? Is he serious? We were just under attack and all he cares about is feeding his guest? “W-what about…t-that thing?”

September sighed and lifted Jackie’s arm so he had to hold the bag. “I’ll take care of it.”

Jackie couldn’t argue as September spun on his black chucks and bent down to grab the dead monster to drag it outside. He stopped at the open doorway.

“Oh, my guest might ask you to help him escape, so just drop off the bag and leave the room.”

“Are…are you holding someone hostage?” Jackie stammered, his body beginning to tremble from his fading adrenaline.

September grinned. “Only for a little while.”

What a blatantly honest little brat. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he flinched.

“You look like you could use a drink,” remarked a flat voice. Jackie craned his head over his shoulder and looked directly into the cool stare of Maze.

“Give me the bag. I’ll bring it to September’s guest. You go and recover from your shock.”

Jackie responded without a word, handing the olive-skinned boy the paper bag and watching him go, his steps practically a strut as he walked towards the grand staircase matted in what Jackie now knew to be the body matter of the monster.

Another voice he recognized entered the hall. “What a despicable mess,” growled Hatchet. He must have felt Jackie’s gaze on him because he glanced at him, looking unhappy. “What are you doing just standing there, old man?” Hatchet demanded, finishing his walk down the staircase and making it to the landing.

Jackie didn’t know why but the sight of the boy made him choke up. He walked over to him and without thinking grabbed him into a hug, Hatchet tensing at the gesture. “What has gotten into you?”

Jackie didn’t know the answer to that. So, he told him, “I’m glad to see you’re safe is all.”

Then his legs gave out and he dragged both of them down to the muck splattered floor.

Jackie’s tears mixing with it.

To his surprise, Hatchet didn’t rip his head off. Instead he heaved a sigh and patted him on the shoulder. “There, there, old man. It’s all over.”

Hatchet’s words did little to relieve him. And Jackie hugged him tighter.

Wondering why it was children that protected him…

When it should be the other way around.

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Carrie slammed her hand on the surgical table and stared in rage at the once chained blood eaten away from the inside out. “Who. Did. This?”

The six agents standing inside the room glanced at one another, their silence deafening.

Carrie didn’t want the silence. She wanted to know what happened. “Someone needs to get me answers now before I resort to interrogating each and every one of you. Unless you want to end up in this chair, I’d suggest you find who did this and bring them to me immediately!”

Her threat worked. “Yes captain!” Carrie didn’t spare them a glance as they rushed out of the room and out the door, ruffling her cream chiffon dress with their departure.

She hunched herself over the surgical table and desperately tried to reign in her temper. She’d been so close. Only a few more days and he was going to break. Telling her where the Roses were hiding. So she could eradicate them, once and for all.

She stared at the shiny silver coating the table and saw her reflection warped, like she was in a fun house with the mirrors that made you different shapes and sizes.

Soft footsteps sounded from the elevator to the room. “Um…Miss Carlan?”

Without looking up she snapped, “what is it, Nicole?”

Nicole replied in a rush, “there’s someone on the phone for you.”

Carrie let out a bitter laugh. “Let me guess.. the Roses?” Why wouldn’t they check in on their recent handiwork—because it had to be them—to rub it in her face they’d pulled one over her, once again?

First the girls. The bunker. Now this.

Nothing was safe anymore. No one was so long as they were alive.

Nicole cleared her throat. “N-no, it’s not them. It’s Arthur ma’am.”

She tensed. “Tell him I’m busy,” she retorted harshly.

In a subdued reply, Nicole replied meekly with a “yes ma’am” before leaving Carrie alone.

Alone with the corpse. With her thoughts.

Arthur already knows about my failure, does he? She exhaled a ragged breath. It wouldn’t be long then before the General heard the news, too.

Carrie had worked too hard to get to where she was. A small hiccup in a long line of successes would not take that away from her.

Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of a silky pocket in her dress and answered it with a bark. “What?’

“Hi mom!”

“Oh, hi sweetie,” Carrie’s voice softened as she silently cursed herself for not looking at her caller ID first. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

Evie returned brightly. “Everything’s fine! Terra just wanted me to call to see if maybe you’re not busy and you could come pick us up at school?”

Carrie straightened and glanced at the blood’s body. “Uh, right now isn’t really a good time…” then she tensed. “where’s Everest-” doesn’t he usually drive them home? Something in her gut warned her this might not be the only attack she’d expect today. Doing her best to keep her tone neutral she listened anxiously for Evie’s reply.

“We’re not really sure…his car’s still here in the parking lot, but we can’t find him.”

Her nails curled into her palm. It doesn’t mean anything, Carrie. He’s probably somewhere on the campus. “Did you try seeing if someone could use the intercom to call for him?”

Everest sometimes hung out with other kids on the track team. It wasn’t the first time he’d been MIA after Evie’s drama practice.

“Oh! That’s a great idea. Terra, let’s go see if we can call him over the speaker thingy…”

Terra responded in irritation. “Evie, it’s almost 4 pm. No one is still here to do that.”

“Honey,” said Carrie. “Can you put Terra on the phone for a sec?”

Evie didn’t say anything as she handed the phone to Terra. “Hello?”

“Am I on speaker?”

“No.”

“Did anything unusual happen today at school?” Carrie asked.

Terra heaved a sigh. “Nero tried to hit on me again. But that’s about it.”

“When was the last time you saw your brother?”

“Not since lunch-wait.”

Carrie sucked in a breath and regretted it as the smell of decay attacked her nose. She stormed from the room and shut the interrogation door, leaning against it. “Wait, what?”

“I got a text from him. Hold on.” Terra rustled on the other end of the phone and Carrie could hear the click of buttons as she unlocked her passcode. When she spoke again her voice held an edge of surprise.

“He said he was kidnapped-”

Carrie nearly dropped the phone. “What?”

“-by his friends,” finished Terra. “Apparently the jerk went with the track team and got burgers.”

Evie added in the background- “I want a burger now.”

“I’m glad you were able to get in touch with him,” said Carrie, her legs shaking. She sank to the floor and carefully expelled the breath she’d been holding. “Is he coming now?’

“Yeah, he said he’ll be here in two minutes.”

Carrie pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. “Okay babe, I have to get back to work now-let me know when you all get home safely, okay?”

Terra was silent for a beat. “Okay,” she said slowly, and Carrie knew she’d managed to pick up the worry in her mom’s voice. “We’ll see you when you get home.”

“Alright..I love you girls.”

“Love you too, mom.”

The phone call ended. Carrie pushed her head against the thick metal door and thanked God her children were safe. For now.

I need to find the Roses and kill them before they go after my kids. She’d been so close to breaking the blood. Just one more day and he’d have told them who had hired him and their location.

Her one lead was dead. And no matter how much she searched and searched, nothing came up.

The words of the killer returned to her:

Let’s see how smart you really are, Mrs. Carlan.

Let’s see if you can find me before I find you.

Carrie grabbed the silver ring dangling from the thin silver chain around her neck. Annie... I won’t let your death be in vain.

Her best friend’s shy smile flitted in her mind. Carrie hadn’t been able to save Annie from the Rose clan. She wouldn’t let the same fate happen to any more girls or her children.

As much as she didn’t want to do what she was about to do Carrie realized time was ticking. Soon they would come for her and her family.

Clicking through her phone’s contact list she landed on Arthur’s name and forced herself to hit the call button. It only rang twice before the click sounded, a masculine voice filling the phone line. “Hello Carrie.”

Shutting her eyes, she let the defeat slip off of her, now only desperate to protect the ones she loved.

“Hello Arthur…I think I need your help.”

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Hatchet stared around the hall in simmering rage. After he put the old man in his room and told him to get some rest he returned to the great hall, the place with the most damage, his teeth gritting so tight they cracked as he looked around.

His home-his family home-was covered in blood. Furniture and antique items smashed and destroyed. Large oak bookcases pushed to the ground, all the old books thrown all over the floor and spines ripped.

August, September, and Maze were trying to right the shelves when he cried, “why? Who the hell did this-'' already knowing the answer. Even before Zed appeared with an envelope in his hand, his expression grim.

“I found this outside on the walkway.” Hatchet strode over to him and took the envelope as Zed added, “it’s like they want you to know they did it.”

Hatchet’s chest tightened at the Rose embedded in the wax seal, flipping it over and seeing in perfect cursive his name written on the front in red ink.

November Lamia.

He tore it open and found a small paper card at the bottom of it. September and August both came over to see what it said, August frowning.

“It’s a business card.” Hatchet saw he was right, the only thing on it being Jeremiah Rose’s name and a phone number.

Hatchet held out a trembling hand to his brothers. “Give me a phone.”

Zed cleared his throat. “I know it’s not my business but I don’t think it’s wise to call...”

“Give me a phone,” repeated Hatchet, his features taut. September and August shot each other a look before August complied, september muttering, “I’m not letting you touch mine after you broke the last one...”

Hatchet was too angry to snap in September. Too murderous to lash out at Zed for thinking he could put his two cents in. But the worst emotion was his absolute confusion as to the reason for the attack. And that, more than his anger and desire for blood made him dial the number on the card and hit the call button.

Because he wanted to know why Jeremiah did it. What made him attack his family home.

Jeremiah answered on the second ring. “Mr. Lamia...I see you received my eviction notice.”

Hatchet took in a steadying breath before rasping, “why?”

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Lamia. Here I thought you and I agreed to leave our fathers’ ways behind us yet you continue using the same underhanded tactics as yours did.”

August, September, and Zed all listened intently. Hatchet met August’s confused look with his own. “I don’t understand... My brothers and I have not done anything against you.”

Jeremiah clicked his tongue three times before replying. “My dear boy, you did exactly that. Sending prince Zed to speak with me as if he must fight your battles is not showing good faith at all...nor is it what we’d agreed upon.”

Zed’s eyes rose and he pointed at his chest, ready to argue. Hatchet held up a warning finger telling him to stay quiet, and to his surprise Zed listened.

“I didn’t realize you’d see him coming to speak with you as an attack. There was no offense meant.” Hatchet’s voice was steady, calm, while he felt anything but. This phone call felt like he was on a scale, and one word, one hint of attitude, would tip it over.

Jeremiah wasn’t helping. He continued in a patronizing tone, “How else should I have viewed that, Mr. Lamia? If you were in my shoes would you have seen it as an act of goodwill?”

Hatchet’s eyes shut as he answered honestly. “Upon retrospect, no. I wouldn’t have.”

“Hmmm...your maturity and decision making are quite questionable, boy. Perhaps it was too quick to assume you’d be a worthy ally to have...”

“Wait,” Hatchet said in a rush, sensing the call ending and his window closing. “I may not be able to undo the insult of prince Zed but I can give you something to prove I do not wish us to be enemies.”

Jeremiah paused in hanging up. “I’m listening.”

Zed, September, and August all glanced from one another and then back to Hatchet. August mouthed, “what?”

Hatchet answered their questioning looks by saying, “There is a family that belongs to the GARD. I can get you them.” He ignored the surprised expressions on his brothers’ faces. “You asked me to work with you to get rid of our first enemy, right? Well, as a testament of good faith I can give you them as a gift-” even though I wanted to be the one to kill them myself.

Hatchet would have to sacrifice part of his revenge if it meant the Roses would not come to attack him and his brothers any longer. At least he’d still have Evie. That’s all that really mattered.

Jeremiah sounded skeptical. “No one knows the names of GARD agents... so how can I trust that you somehow discovered this when even the best of our kind have not?”

It was a fair question. One he didn’t really want to answer. But for the sake of keeping the peace he admitted uneasily, “you never forget the name of someone who killed your entire family.”

“I see,” murmured Jeremiah, and his tone warmed with sympathy. Then he returned to business, asking pointedly, “How are you sure you can retrieve them for us?”

“Let’s just say they’re already being rounded up for you.”

The phone went quiet. Hatchet waited for Jeremiah’s response, his brothers and Zed doing the same. After a moment there was still nothing and Hatchet wondered if Jeremiah had hung up. Then he chuckled and gave in. “Alright, Mr. Lamia. You have caught my attention. If you can actually gather members of the GARD up and deliver them to my brother and I it might sway me to consider that as your token of good faith.”

Hatchet’s shoulders released their tension. “Consider it done.”

“I am leaving on a short business trip for a couple of days. Why don’t we speak again once I have returned and see how your progress is coming along?”

Hatchet clutched the phone in relief. “Okay.”

“On that note, I will say goodbye. I am glad you called. I was tempted to pay you a little visit but now I feel that won’t be necessary.”

Hatchet’s nearly unbeating heart turned in his chest from the threat. “I’m glad we were able to clear up any misunderstandings I may have caused-”

A click interrupted him. Hatchet lowered the phone and saw the screen indicate the call had ended.

He felt the burning gazes of his brothers and looked up, finding a mixture of disappointment and confusion.

Unable to say a word.

TWENTY THREE

Everyone in the Carlan household was asleep by eleven.

But Evie didn’t dare move from her bed until midnight, ensuring not a sound could be heard other than the deep breaths of her family sleeping. Then she carefully slid from her bed, and padded to the partially opened closet door, not making any noise to wake Terra as she reached up on the top shelf and lifted out a yellow cardboard shoe box. Tucking it safely under her arm she tiptoed out of her room and headed for the bathroom.

It had been months since she’d had to take out the box. To need to curl up on the light blue tiled floor against the closed bathroom door and go through its contents. To take out the one gift Hatchet had given her- a worn out stuffed elephant- and have to crush it close to her chest, pressing her mouth into one of the matted ears to muffle her sobs.

Years she’d cried for him. But tonight the pain submerged her, drowning her in an internal agony she’d not felt since the night he died.

All she felt was guilt.

All she felt was grief.

And she wasn’t sure which would kill her first.

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Everest slumped into the school hallway. Scared. Like he’d been the past two days.

He’d thought he’d have the protection of Terra and Evie by his side but they both bolted the second they’d gotten into the school, forgetting they had a major homework assignment due for their history class that day. Leaving him alone and defenseless.

It’s too much to hope he won’t come back. Even after the weird zombies attacked us.

Despite his parents having a “no one stays home unless they’re actually dying” rule he’d managed to convince them he was unable to attend school yesterday. Thankfully, he didn’t have to use his terrible acting skills since it wasn’t really pretending.

The stress of being slammed into a wall, kidnapped, attacked by things that belonged in horror movies, and then escaping his first attacker while he’d been busy cleaning up the dead zombies had been enough to make him physically and emotionally drained.

I’m still pretty sure I have a concussion, too. The lump wasn’t as severe, but Everest still had some pretty intense dizzy spells throughout the past couple of days. All because of that little demon.

He still couldn’t believe he’d escaped what he now realized was the mansion overlooking the ocean. Or that he’d manage to get down to the public beach and hail a cab, forgetting until he was in said cab that the demon went through his wallet and probably still had it, then discovering it was in his pocket where he’d put it while getting ready for school. By the time he’d pulled up to the backlot of the school, carefully lying to his sisters about getting food without them, Everest had nearly lost it right then and there.

How he’d held it together was a mystery.

Everest had heard in training about how the Nightrealm could take away the memories of their victims. It had sounded awful then, but now he wished the purple haired demon had taken away his memories instead of telling him he could remember everything—just couldn’t say a damn word. To anyone.

Not about being kidnapped. Not about a bunch of Nightrealm hiding out in the Lamia mansion like squatters. Not the zombie attack. Nothing.

If the nearly sleepless nights weren’t bad enough to suffer from, the questions September had asked him before they’d been attacked did the trick.

Why was he so concerned about his and Evie’s conversation? How did he even know Evie? As far as Everest knew the clan who’d known about her existence and time at that mansion had all been wiped out by his parents.

Then there were the creeping doubts placed into his head. The ones put there by September’s question: Why can’t Evie know we know the truth?

Everest had to admit he’d never understood why they’d lied to Evie about that. It made sense why she’d felt like she had to because no one would believe her unless they’d been introduced into that world themselves.

He’d asked his dad that question once, right after Evie had moved in with them,

remembering the nearly dismissive way his dad had responded to him, saying it was for the best to keep Evie happy.

He felt stupid now, accepting that answer without a second’s thought. Only caring about Evie’s happiness to ever question if there was another reason behind it.

Now he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe his parents were hiding something.

Damn purple haired demon. Making me question everything I know.

Everest heard a high-pitched laugh coming from down the staircase he was walking past.

“Rem, you’re so silly.” Everest recognized the voice as Livy’s. He took another couple of steps when the person she’d called Rem replied wryly-

“One of us has to be, Livy dear.”

Everest recognized September’s voice, which he’d discovered his name after one of the other vampires had called him during the zombie attack. The sound of it made Everest’s feet freeze. Crap!

Like a squirrel in the middle of the road facing a car Everest locked up, watching in horror for the crop of purple hair to come up the steps.

He needed to hide. Fast. Livy and the demon would be on the main floor any second and he stuck out like a sore thumb from his height and build.

Looking around him with desperation he discovered a light blue door with a mop symbol on it.

Hiding in the janitor’s closet… this is what my life has resorted to. He jogged to the door and glanced around to make sure no teachers would see him, the door opening under his sweaty palm as he slipped inside.

He heard them walk by only seconds later.

“Do you want to have lunch together later?”

September heaved a dramatic sigh. “I’m afraid I can’t today. I have a previous engagement.”

Livy sounded sad as she replied, “oh okay. Maybe tomorrow then.” Their voices drifted further away from him and all he could hear was the sound of his pounding heartbeat.

He pressed a hand to his forehead. Damn, that was close. How was he going to avoid that brat all day?

He wasn’t. There was no way.

Welp, it’s time to go home. Everest on his best day wouldn’t be able to handle this. Sleep deprived with a concussion and in the same building with the vampire who kidnapped him made him ready to quit school and move east to start an onion farm. He didn’t even like onions, but it had to be better than this.

Envisioning what it would be like to be an onion farmer he pulled out his phone and started a new text:

Hey mom… I don’t think I’m feeling any better…

A shadow fell over his screen. He looked up.

Finding narrowed emerald eyes locked on him. “So… this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Everest’s fingers pressed so hard on the screen he heard it crack. “Ohh hey…you,” he squeaked.

Run, his brain commanded him. Run away! Except September stood in between his only escape which he was realizing he needed as September inquired softly. “Are you avoiding me little Carlan?”

Everest gave an exaggerated bark of laughter. “N-no, of course not-why would I- that’s ridiculous.”

The door opened a little bit wider, September’s expression becoming predatory. “Really? Then what are you doing in the janitor’s closet?”

Think, Idiot! “I... I just needed to send a quick message to…uh…a friend--but now that I think about it, it might be best to do it out there-” where there are witnesses to see you kill me.

September tilted his head. “Do you usually come to the janitor’s office to send messages, little Carlan?”

Everest’s ears heated up as he lied in an overly loud voice, “do I ever! It has the best reception in the entire school!” He lifted his phone to his face and poked the screen. “Look at that: all four bars. Can’t get that anywhere else.”

Inwardly, he cringed. Terra’s right…. I do suck at lying. There was no way September bought such an obvious lie. If he was smart at all he’d know the janitor’s closet was possibly one of the worst places for a signal, surrounded by concrete walls in the middle of the main floor.

Except September’s expression lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

Everest blinked. No way…did he really buy that? “Y-yeah…totally,” he continued, smiling uneasily as Septemberstepped inside the room, his sparkly black sweater draping over his hands as he turned to shut the door behind him.

Terra had always made fun of Everest for his inability to lie. She said he was almost as bad as when Evie tried. Licking his lips, he felt an involuntary spark of triumph. I guess I’ve gotten better if I can fool a vampire.

September pulled out his cellphone and lifted it to his face, frowning. “Mine isn’t showing 4 bars.”

Everest stopped patting himself on the back and sobered up. “Try to go in the corner there,” he suggested loudly, hoping if he got away from the door Everest could dash to safety. A difficult task since the door was shut. He’d have to now draw attention to himself if he was able to get away from the brat and his super speed.

September obeyed and walked a few more steps. “Here?”

“A little further…”

Everest held his breath while September walked to the farthest part of the room where the brooms were placed in their wall stand. Everest took a cautious step back as September murmured. “I still have nothing-”

Now is my chance! Everest spun on his sneakers and grabbed the door handle. It only took the beat of his heart before he felt September’s small fingers to grip the back of his shirt and jerk him away.

“No, no, no,” chuckled September. He shoved Everest into the wall, his phone clattering out of his hands and to the concrete floor. He stared in terror as September clicked his tongue. “I’ll give you this, little Carlan…you try. You fail terribly but you do try.”

The back of his pants became damp. He prayed it was from the residue of the missing mop bucket and not because he wet himself. “T-try what?”

September leaned forward and looked amused. “Did you actually think that would work?”

I guess Terra was right. I do suck at lying. “You looked like you believed me,” mumbled Everest, embarrassed that he not only failed at escaping but somehow fell for September’s acting instead.

September lifted a hand and tapped his cheek. “And you fell for it.”

Everest’s ears burned and instinctively he whipped his hand out and knocked September’s away. The amusement on September’s boyish face gained an edge, and it made Everest cover his own when September lifted his hand. “I’m sorry! It was an accident!”

He whimpered when he felt his hands grabbed and dragged away from his face. Peeking at September with one eye closed he saw no trace of anger. Only laughter glinting in his eyes. “It’s good to know not all of your survival instincts are lacking.” Before Everest could ask him what that meant he changed the subject, commenting, “I was wondering why I couldn’t find you yesterday. Is this where you were hiding all day?”

Everest’s heart sped up. I knew he’d look for me. “I was sick yesterday,” he admitted, hating how pathetic he sounded, like he was getting in trouble because he did something bad.

I’d rather get in trouble… detention or being grounded is better than having my head about to be ripped off.

September quirked a thin pale brow upward. “You were sick,” he repeated. He looked sympathetic as he inquired. “Is that why you left my room after I told you to remain put when there was still a threat? Because you were sick?” he sounded concerned, yet Everest recognized the calm before the storm.

After dealing with his mom’s short fuse of a temper he wasn’t an idiot. September wasn’t really asking. It was rhetorical. He was doing it to be a dick.

Everest opened his mouth then closed it, desperate to come up with some reason other than the truth.

“Mmm?” September pulled the collar on Everest’s teal polo shirt downward and forced him to look him straight in the eye, his tone sharpening. “Answer me.”

Everest was too busy thinking he was about to die that he’d forgotten to shut his eyes before it was too late. I really am a disappointment to my parents.

Having no choice but to obey he opened his mouth and said in a rush- “I left because you kidnapped me! Why would I stay around so my kidnapper could come back and torture me some more? Or the zombies? Or the other vampires who were there?”

September looked offended. “Kidnapper? That’s a bit harsh.”

“You did kidnap me! And..and…you were probably going to torture me, too.”

He rolled his eyes. “If I was going to do that, do you think I would have taken care of you after you hit your head too hard-or bought you cookies?” He pouted and muttered, “I had to eat all of them, thanks to you.”

Everest blinked at him, incredulous. “I don’t want your cookies,” he grounded out, still feeling compelled to tell him everything. “I don’t want anything to do with you ever again.”

September lifted his head and laughed. “I don’t really care what you want, pretty boy.”

Then with a narrowing look. “You’re lucky I find you so amusing.”

Everest’s body went from hot being called pretty boy to cold from to the lingering threat. “What happens when you don’t find me amusing?”

September looked thoughtful as he hummed. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we … what are you doing?”

Everest thrashed in his grip. He wasn’t about to wait around and see if he was going to die today or not, the panic setting in. “Let me go!”

September clicked his tongue. “Haven’t you learned from the last time escaping me doesn’t work?”

“I’ll…I’ll hit you if you d-don’t…”

“Then I’d have to hurt you—no way.” September gave a dramatic gasp and lifted up on his toes. “Are you crying?”

Everest placed an arm over his stinging eyes and fought back a sniffle. “No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“P-please leave me a-alone.”

September forced Everest’s arm down like it was weightless. “I knew it,” he said when Everest stared at him with a tear-filled gaze. Being seen so vulnerable was worse than being in the company of a psychotic bloodsucker. No one had seen him cry since he was 12-years-old…and after it had made Evie cry when she’d seen him cry, he’d decided not to do it in front of people ever again. The same way she made sure to always hide in the bathroom when she thought everyone was asleep... just like the last two nights.

Since that wasn’t an option he relied on Terra’s method and lashed out instead. “This is all your fault!”

Surprise flitted across September’s face. “My fault?”

Frustration bled into Everest’s voice. “You threatened to kill me-how else do you expect me to react?”

September gave him a give me a break look. “If we’re being technical, I threatened to hurt you, not kill you. I also said you were amusing which means you’re safe for now.” Then in an exasperated mutter, “why do humans always ignore the important information and focus on the minute details?”

“You’re lying.”

“That’s cute coming from the one who lied first.”

Everest felt a sob bubbling up his throat, his chest tight. “Why are you d-doing this? What have I ever done t-to you? To any of you? What do you w-want?

September chose to only answer the last question. “What I really want is for you to pull it together.” When that didn’t work, he sighed, tapping his cheek softly, “breathe, little Carlan. You’re going to pass out if you keep hyperventilating.”

His lungs felt like he was underwater. “I…can’t.” This has to be one of the most pathetic moments of my life. Breaking down in front of him, of all people. “I…don’t…want…to…die.”

September grabbed both sides of his face and brought his head lower, their eyes connecting. “Take a deep breath…and another. Goodness, you’re so sensitive.” Although he looked annoyed, his tone was gentle. Everest still didn’t trust he wasn’t going to kill him but obeyed (not like he had a choice) his chest rising and falling a little steadier than it had been a few moments ago. “Good boy.” His face was released, and September lowered himself to the flats of his feet. “There. All better.”

Everest tried to compose himself, rubbing his eyes to keep the moisture from slipping free, when September asked, “what brought this on all of a sudden?”

Everest sniffled, admitting, “I haven’t slept in two days and my head still hurts and I don’t trust anyone anymore and I feel like I’m in Hell-”

“Okay, I get it,” September interrupted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and briefly shut his eyes. “Why are you not like the person I thought you’d be?” Then muttering to himself, how am I supposed to hand you over when you’re so freaking cute it hurts?”

Everest opened his mouth to ask him what he meant by that comment but was stopped by September adding in a sigh. “You’re not alone in your feelings, little Carlan. I’ve been there before. It’s not a fun place to be, that’s for sure.”

Everest forgot about the comment about handing him over and scoffed. “Oh yeah? You’ve been harassed by someone stronger than you—threatened and kidnapped and hurt and unable to fight back?”

A look crossed September’s face that made Everest fall silent. When he blinked it was gone, finding a lazy smile in its place. “Can’t say I have.”

What was that? Did Everest imagine it or did September look scared? Yet scared of what? The little demon hadn’t even batted an eyelash at the zombie things. September broke his thoughts by leaning close to him and murmuring, “I don’t think I like the look you’re wearing little Carlan.” “Huh?” September pushed him back into the wall and Everest stared in panic as he lifted on his toes to get closer to Everest’s face.

“Like I’m just like you.” September’s hand brushed the back of Everest’s neck, the soft cotton of his sweater making goosebumps rise.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this…but you pissed me off.”

“W-what does that m-mean-ah!” Everest’s question was silenced as his head was pushed to the side and September’s teeth sank into the space right below his pulse. Alarm seared through him. “N-no!”

He said he wouldn’t kill me! Everest attempted to push him off as he felt the blood leave his body, but he was too weak.

Without breaking his contact, September easily grabbed his wrists and trapped them against the wall. Everest opened his mouth to scream for help when a pleasant warmth trickled from the place September was biting on his neck and slowly traveled through his body. Everest had never been bitten by Nightrealm before. Well, aside from when the little demon bit into his palm.

He hadn’t known what to expect- pain? suffering? fear? - but it wasn’t this.

He never expected it to feel this intense.

This good.

A sound escaped past his lips. Followed by a shiver of humiliation. Did I just moan?

September confirmed his fear by releasing one of his wrists and pressing his hand over Everest’s mouth.

Everest should have used the opportunity to push September off of him now that he had one hand free- except his brain wouldn’t tell his body to move. Too enraptured by whatever was happening to him to stop it. Does it always feel like this? If it did no wonder humans that knew about the Nightrealm signed up to be fed on.

A minute later September rescinded his teeth and kissed the puncture wound which caused goosebumps to rise up and down Everest’s arms. He chuckled. “You really haven’t been properly trained by those exterminators, have you?”

The amusement in September’s voice made Everest’s ears burn. He roughly pushed off September’s small hand and glared at him. “W-what did you do to me?”

“I reminded you of your place-”

“You what?”

“-and weakened you.” September’s mouth tilted upward in a dangerous smile as Everest blinked profusely down at him.

“W-what do you mean you reminded me of my place?”

September lifted on the toes of his glittery black loafers so he could graze his teeth on a different spot of Everest’s neck. “Shall I demonstrate again?”

Everest froze as he felt the scrape of September’s sharp teeth against his skin. His body reacted in excitement for that feeling when he heard September whisper close to his ear. “You know, I didn’t understand how your parents would let you quit the GARD, but I think I know why now. . . It’s because you’re so dumb.”

The insult was enough of a jolt to break him free of the dopamine still being released in his brain. “I…I’m not dumb!” September responded with a laugh and it made Everest shove September off of him. September recovered from the shock quickly, grabbing Everest’s shirt again and pushing him back into the wall, pinning him with ease. Whatever bravado Everest momentarily felt was shattered as he remembered who he was dealing with.

Thankfully, September didn’t look angry. Just amused. “Alright then, little Carlan… I’ll play along. Why did you quit then, hm?”

The answer popped into his mind and made a cold sweat break out against the back of his neck. Why did I have to argue with him? Now I have to tell him the truth.

Maybe the little demon was right… he was dumb.

Everest began to panic. Think…think! “I…I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

His heart rate jumped at the exertion it took to hold back the actual reason, his breathing coming out in a huff. This was worse than being cornered in the janitor’s closet and bitten. If this got out…if this brat learned his darkest secret--his enemy-- it would ruin him.

Everest tried desperately to keep the words from leaving his tongue. September’s gaze became shrewd as he inched forward and watched him curiously. “Why is your heart rate spiking little Carlan? Are you trying to hold back?” Then with a wolfish grin, he inquired. “Is it because you’re trying to hide something?”

Everest’s ears turned red. “Y-yes.”

September asked the question Everest knew to be coming. “What is it you’re trying to hide, little Carlan?”

Damn it! Everest clenched his teeth as he tried to stop himself from answering, but the longer September watched him with his large green eyes the faster his fleeting resolve slipped away.

“I...I don’t...want you to...to know... the truth!” Everest’s chest rose and fell with the exertion of fighting September’s hold, sweat now dripping down his back.

“And what is the truth?”

I’m not going to last like this. I need to get away before I break.

Out of everything the little demon could have made him say it had to be his deep, dark secret. Even loving Evie wasn’t as terrible as this, the shame building of betraying his family’s values and traditions weighing on him, all because he was weak.

With one last ditch effort he whipped his hand to the one holding his shirt and tried to pry it off. September wrapped a hand around his throat to hold him still, Everest pleading not for the first time- “let me go!”

“Your response has made me curious, little Carlan,” he said in excitement. “And now you’re going to tell me what it is you so badly want to keep a secret.”

Everest wanted to cry. “Please...”

“Just say it and it will be all over.”

Everest dry sobbed. He had no choice. He’d lost.

“The truth is… I...I never thought your kind were monsters who needed to be killed! I always felt bad for them and wished the GARD would just leave them alone because they were probably just minding their own business and just because they’re different doesn’t mean they deserve to die-“

September eyes widened in shock, and Everest could already tell this was not the answer he was expecting.

But Everest wasn’t done.

“-and who reads their kids’ books about killing monsters? Do you have any idea how traumatizing that is? And everything in those stories were lies anyway, because so far the monsters I’ve met don’t have horns or spikes coming out of their heads-in fact they’re all really attractive as far as I can tell-”

September held up a hand and frowned. “Okay, I get it-“

“-also, I’ve seen how the GARD treats your kind and it is horrible. I don’t get why they think it is okay when it is morally wrong on every front and in my opinion makes them the real monsters…”

September looked like he’d been slapped across the face. Is he disappointed? Before Everest could wonder about it, September gritted his teeth and released the hand around his neck to clamp it back over Everest’s mouth once again. Everest’s heart slammed into his rib cage. All amusement left September’s face. “Why?” Everest didn’t understand why he suddenly looked like he wanted to kill him. Like he’d done something unforgivable. “Why are you like this?”

The frustrated words of his mom rang in his ear- why is he like this? What is wrong with him?

His eyes shut. I don’t know why I am this way… September lowered his hand and grabbed his shirt. Everest whispered. “I’m sorry.”

He heard September click his tongue. “This is bad,” he muttered. Everest peeked his eyes open and saw September staring off to the side, his jaw set.

Maybe it’s a slap in the face to him to have someone like me feel that way… Everest didn’t know why but it bothered him that this was September’s reaction. He’d never told anyone about his true feelings on the GARD or the Nightrealm. He’d thought maybe it would have made the demon happy. Not so conflicted.

“I…I won’t tell anyone,” he promised, hoping the sudden tension in the small room didn’t indicate his death.

September snorted. “I hope not.” Shame drooped Everest’s head as September looked back at him, his expression relaxing. “Well, this certainly took me by surprise. Here I am, supposed to find reasons to despise you and yet you do the exact opposite-leaving me with no other choice but one.”

Everest didn’t like the sound of that. “W-wait…” he began, September’s expression resolute. “w-what are you planning to do?”

September answered by releasing his shirt and taking a step back. “Trust me, little Carlan…you brought this on yourself.”

Everest threw his hands over his face when September took a step towards him. “Please don’t kill me…”

“What are you doing?” drawled September. Everest cowered, flinching when he saw September peek his head underneath his not-so protective barrier. “We really need to work on your survival instincts, little Carlan, if you’re going to last with my brothers around.” September heaved a long sigh. “You scream vulnerable and weak. Not the best traits in a companion.”

Wait... a companion? “H-huh?” Wasn’t that the same thing he’d wanted him to write to his mom to prove the coercion worked? “A c-companion?”

He didn’t explain. “Ah, whatever. I guess I’ll just have to protect you is all.” Everest blinked and watched September straighten. He lowered his arms a little so he could see what he was doing. “Relax, little Carlan,” he chuckled. “By the end of this week you won’t be so jumpy anymore.”

Everest saw him stuff his hands in his ripped black skinny jeans and turn towards the door.

By the end of the week? What the heck did that mean?

September didn’t explain, merely ordered, “Don’t go anywhere after school today. By then I will have come up with a plan to keep you alive. Until then please don’t do anything stupid.”

He touched the knob on the door when Everest found his voice. “W-wait!”

September’s hand tightened around the metal. “I’m sure you have questions, but I can’t be around you right now.” he glanced over his shoulder and gave Everest a predatory smirk, Everest’s pulse speeding up. “My self-control is not that good.”

September licked his lower lip and winked.Everest’s ears burned hot as he opened the door and slid out, shutting it behind him.

The mark on his neck tingling.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The human servant jumped out of his skin.

Maze had watched him wipe at the same spot on the black marble countertop for a half hour before he knocked into what sounded like a small pot that clanged to the floor. The old man jumped, spinning in a circle as if he was about to be attacked. Knocking over a second copper pan in the process.

Maze took a sip of his black coffee and sighed. Poor man. Ever since the attack on the mansion two days ago he’d been like this. Every little sound making him gasp and search for danger.

“It’s just a pan,” Maze said. The old man halted in his search for the invisible monsters and landed on Maze, fear flitting across his weathered features.

Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m the monster you fear. “You’re going to induce a heart attack if you continue reacting to every little thing.”

Jackie, as Maze heard September call him, bowed his head. As if reading his terrified thoughts, Maze retorted, “Not like it concerns me if you live or die.”

Zed had always berated Maze’s blunt manner. He’d never understood why until he saw the sudden look Jackie gave him, like Maze was a hawk about to swoop down. Like he wanted to drain all the blood from his body. Like he was a pureblood.

He kept from rolling his eyes. Doesn’t he realize no one in this mansion is going to hurt him? Maze had thought it was obvious to Jackie he wasn’t in any danger after the way Hatchet had comforted him after the Rose's retaliation. Since meeting the eldest Lamia boy Maze hadn’t seen any kindness or geniality from him once. However, he’d shown quite a different side for the old man’s sake, patting him on the shoulder and then helping him to his bedroom, muttering he was a silly fool who needed to get it together.

If that wasn’t confirmation enough, I don’t know what is. Shaking his head, Maze lifted his long legs from the black iron bar stool and walked around it to the coffee machine that Zed had bought him for their stay. The old man tensed, his heartbeat picking up tempo. “I’m just making coffee.”

The old man cleared his throat and attempted to tamper the embarrassment at being called out. “I didn’t know you could drink coffee.” Maze arched his head to his right and stared at the old man, making him stammer. “I…I thought you only needed blood.”

Maze snorted. “They haven’t told you anything about us, have they?”

“N-not really, sir.”

“Please don’t call me that. I’m not a noble. Maze is just fine.” Narrowing his gaze, he asked the old man pointedly. “What do you know about us--“clearly not about the hierarchy of the Nightrealm, if he was referring to Maze as “sir”.

It was almost laughable. But only almost.

The old man rubbed the back of his neck. “I only know you need blood,” he said, nervous.

Maze hummed. “I think you should join me for a cup of coffee.” Without waiting for a response, he inquired, “how do you take it? Black?”

“Oh, uh…sure.”

“You can tell me if you want it made some other way,” he said, smirking. “I won’t kill you for it.”

Jackie’s heartbeat thumped in his chest. “B-black is fine.”

Maze couldn’t tell if he was lying or if he was just overly nervous around him. The coffee machine finished filling both cups and he carefully brought them to the bar top table, placing one down in front of him. The old man muttered a thanks and went to pick it up, his hands shaking.

Taking the seat across from him he watched the old man avert his gaze. Maze hadn’t been around that many humans but all the ones at Zed’s estate had wanted to be there, fear never in their eyes when they’d looked at him or anyone like him. The feeling was unsettling. “They really like you here, you know.” Jackie’s eyes flicked upward as Maze continued, lifting the clear glass cup to his lips, “I’ve never seen them act so protective over a human.”

Jackie looked startled. “They only have me here to fix the damage I caused.”

“What damage?”

“The…the walls on the basement floor.”

Maze gave a thoughtful frown. “I didn’t know there was a basement floor.” In truth, he hadn’t gone anywhere other than the floors where his and September’s room were. “Why did you damage it?”

Jackie’s expression became contrite as he filled Maze in with how he came to be at the mansion in the first place. Maze had heard a half-assed version from September and knew it was the old man who’d found Hatchet except now it all made sense. And it impressed Maze that Hatchet hadn’t killed him when he’d had the chance.

Going without blood for that long and he still had self-control. Although Hatchet was not his favorite person, he had to reluctantly admit that showed the character of the mean eldest brother.

He took a long sip of the French roast coffee. “So, have you finished fixing the walls?”

Jackie shook his head, downcast. “Not yet.” Then giving an uneasy smile he admitted, “they’ve been keeping me busy doing other things…”

“like feeding on you?”

Jackie paled. “N-no…other chores and stuff.” Maze took another sip of coffee in thought as Jackie leaned forward, whispering. “Is… is that what they’re going to do to me?”

“If they haven’t yet they won’t,” he reassured. “Besides, Hatchet seems to respect you a little too much to make you a feeder.”

“A feeder?”

“A human used to only feed Nightrealm.” Maze took a long sip and saw Jackie watching him in confusion. “It's a very degrading position for a human to be in. Think of it like being regarded as a farm animal raised for one purpose,” he explained when Jackie’s expression didn’t waver.

“Isn’t that what all humans are to…er…to your kind?”

This made a smile nearly grace Maze’s lips. “No. Most are put into the place of a companion or pet. There is typically an agreement in place between the two parties and only that human is used to care for the Nightrealm they made a contract with.” Maze saw Jackie’s forehead furrow, the shaking in his hands subside. “If that’s the case why did you say I’d be a feeder and not one of those other things you mentioned?”

“You said you ruined their walls, didn’t you? I don’t know if you’ve overheard or noticed but this home is very precious to them. I’m amazed you aren’t a feeder after damaging it.”

Jackie gave him a horrified look, Maze adding calmly, “not that you have to worry about that since they clearly don’t view you as any of the choices I mentioned.”

“H-how do you become the other two?”

“It’s usually the decision of the Nightrealm who they want to make a contract with. After they present the terms of that contract to the human the human then becomes theirs and only theirs until that contract ends.”

Jackie picked up his mug and frowned. “Seems straightforward enough.” He took a long sip and asked curiously, “What happens if the human breaks it?”

Maze gave a one shoulder shrug. He finished his cup of coffee and stood up from his seat, heading to the wide basin sink on the far side of the copper and marble kitchen. “That’s up to the Nightrealm to decide.” He washed his cup out and placed it on the large dish towel. He turned to face Jackie who watched him in earnest for what those decisions were.

“What do they usually go with then?”

“Best case scenario: they let them go.”

“A-and the worst case?”

Zed answered for Maze. “Death.”

Jackie’s head swiveled to the kitchen doorway, his heart slamming in his chest again. “Death?”

Zed glanced past him and to Maze then back to the old man. “Once you’re bound by blood you can’t break it. It is our code.”

“B-bound by blood?”

Maze nodded. “When the human agrees to the contract, they each take each other’s blood to solidify the agreement. They are then bound together both in writing and in blood.”

Jackie’s face took on a shade of green. “Oh…I see.” Then he muttered under his breath, “what moron would agree to that?”

“Morons who either have no choice or want the rewards of their services,” said Maze casually.

Jackie choked on his sip of coffee, Zed remarking loudly. “Did you not know about our impeccable hearing?”

“He does now,” said Maze, fighting back a smile. He leaned his hands against the marble countertop and sighed. “I don’t disagree with your thoughts though, old man.” Jackie craned his neck to see Maze behind him. Becoming serious Maze continued, his eyes finding Jackie’s troubled gaze. “If I were human, I wouldn’t make such a deal.”

“I, uh…know it isn’t any of my business, but the oldest boy keeps talking about some girl. Did she make this…this contract you mentioned?”

Maze frowned. “What girl?”

Zed cleared his throat and warned quietly. “If you want to stay on Hatchet’s good side, old man, I’d suggest you steer clear of asking about her. “

“Well, don’t stop on my count.” Hatchet’s raspy voice echoed behind Zed. Maze felt his good mood sour at the interruption but merely glanced indifferently as he entered the kitchen. Jackie’s heartbeat slammed against his rib cage.

Maze pushed himself from the counter and strutted the few steps to him, placing a comforting hand on Jackie’s trembling shoulder. “Your human is going to have his heart give out if you keep startling him.”

Hatchet brushed past Zed. Jackie went to stand up yet was stopped by Maze’s grip. “F-forgive me sir, I…I was just going to get back to work--“

Hatchet cut him off brusquely. “I need you to leave. Now.”

Jackie stammered out. “M-me sir?”

Maze felt the icy stare of Hatchet on him. He met the look head on, challenging him with one of his own. “No, old man. Not you. Me.” Hatchet confirmed this by narrowing his gaze, his expression taut. Curious, Maze asked, “where exactly do you want me to go?”

“I want you and Zed to deliver an invitation to the Roses.”

All three pairs of eyes landed on Hatchet. Zed sounded incredulous as he demanded, “why the hell do you want to do something as stupid as that?’”

Jackie interjected unsteadily, “aren’t they the ones who sent those monsters?”

“They are indeed.” Hatchet strode to the countertop and slammed a black envelope on the table. “Today we are delivering the Carlans to them.”

Maze gave him a look. “You really think they’re going to leave you alone after that?”

Hatchet ignored Maze and added as if he hadn’t been asked a question. “Take any car you’d like to fulfill the task,” he said, waving a dismissive hand and heading out of the kitchen. “When you’re done feel free to take the long way home. . . I am expecting company.”

“You?” remarked Zed in surprise.

Hatchet stopped in front of him and Maze saw his lips twitch. He nodded. “I have a feeling it will be quite loud here for a while so don’t hurry back.”

Maze watched him slip past Zed and heard him chuckle.

“Today…Evie is finally mine.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Something was wrong. Terra could feel it.

It wasn’t about her still being unable to go to work. It wasn’t that Nero kept harassing her to hang out with him every single day.

It was worse. Much, much worse.

Terra saw from the corner of her eye Mr. Lopes poorly drawing a map of the United States in white chalk. His mouth moved, explaining the divide that occurred during the civil war between the north and the south- but all she found herself focused on was a crop of messy blue hair. Broad shoulders that were defined in the light blue t-shirt that was a little too snug for his body.

Her heartbeat skipped when he let out a husky chuckle at Mr. Lope’s terrible joke and she gave her head a shake. Snap out of it, Terra. This is not you!

She did not have crushes. She did not like anyone.

Especially the ones she rejected two two days ago.

A stray cat. She couldn’t believe she’d gone with him for such a silly reason. Some kid she didn’t know at all. All because he’d looked at her all disheveled and lost, like the mutt Everest had tried to get their parents to let him keep right after Evie joined their family.

Ever since the attack at the bunker she’d been feeling like she was losing her mind. Doing things way out of her character. It has to be from the trauma. Her mom had warned her she might be out of sorts for a bit after going through something so stressful.

When Terra hadn’t been convinced by the obvious excuse her mom had admitted to her she’d once been kidnapped by a noble blood and had been held hostage for two months. It had wrecked her for a long time. Maybe she still hadn’t fully recovered from it.

Terra had argued back it wasn’t that -how can she suffer from trauma she didn’t actually remember? – except she was starting to wonder if her mom might have been on to something.

Especially when she kept finding herself returning to thinking about the way Gus smiled at her in the hallway this morning. Or how pleasant his laugh was- a deep and husky sound- that sent tingles down her back.

Terra squeezed her pencil so hard the wood cracked.

She hated it. Hated all of it. Why does Evie enjoy this? This is freaking misery. She glowered at his back. I do not like him. I do not like him. I do not like hi-

He lifted an arm and rubbed the back of his head and the scent of his shampoo and cologne drifted, and she inhaled pepper and mint, her heart racing.

Her fingers squeezed until the pencil snapped in half.

Someone poked her in the arm and broke her desire to stab the sharp piece into his back. Terra glared until she saw it was Evie. “You okay?” she whispered a little too loudly.

Terra widened her eyes in warning. Shut up!

It was too late. Gus looked over his shoulder at the two of them. The moment his sleepy gaze swept over to her she was thrown back onto the roller coaster of Hell. She said nothing as he assessed the situation and found the broken pencil in her fist. Smiling, he handed her a blue ink pen. “Here.” Terra stared at his long, muscled arm and her pulse thumped. As if he could hear it, he gave her a side look that made Terra’s heart stutter a beat, his smile becoming mischievous.

Terra shot Evie an angry look and muttered. “Thanks.”

From the corner of her eye she saw him nod. “anytime.”

Terra’s face burned. She hoped it was from shame.

Mr. Lopes clapped his hands and she exhaled when Gus faced forward in his desk. She released her breath slowly, exhausted. She’d never wanted to get home so badly in her life.

“Alright, class, listen up! We have about fifteen minutes of class left before we’re done. Why don’t you take this time to start the next part of your timelines with your partner?”

Groans throughout the room responded.

Terra sank in her seat. Thanks a lot Mr. Lopes.

Mr. Lopes added with an excited clap of his hands. “Come on now! I’m so kindly giving you time to work on this in case you have any questions about your part of the project. I’d suggest you don’t waste it.”

Project. More like busywork. All Mr. Lopes was having them do was teach themselves history. Which she was pretty sure was his job.

Evie interrupted loudly. “Mr. Lopes, my partner isn’t here. Is it alright if I work with someone else?”

“Sure…do you have a small group in mind?”

Terra sucked in a small breath and went to raise her hand to offer to work with her when Steven beat her to it. “She can work with Livy and me, sir.”

Terra hissed. Stupid freckles. To Evie, she looked over and shook her head.

Don’t do it, Evie…please.

Evie wasn’t paying attention to her plea. She was too busy covering her mouth with her hand to suppress a squeal, brimming in excitement.

Terra was so wrapped up in her panic of working with Gus she didn’t have time to think about how odd it was of Steven to volunteer to have Evie work with him.

She watched in silent helplessness as Evie hopped up and headed to the front of the room, Steven offering his chair and taking the extra one placed against the chalkboard. Gus heaved a sigh and slowly spun in his chair to face her. “hey.”

Terra’s face flushed with warmth. “hi.” She forced her eyes to meet his while asking herself-what the heck is wrong with me? - her blood pulsing in her ears when he gave her a sleepy smile.

He glanced at her hand. “What happened there?”

Her forehead creased until she realized what he was talking about. Hastily, she dropped the two pieces of the pencil to the desk and swiped them off, the soft clatter of wood on tile barely heard over the chatter of students. She mumbled. “Don’t worry about it.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Already forgotten.” Flashing her a smile, Terra felt this odd fluttering pressing near her ribs at the sight. He leaned his elbows on her desk. “I’d say do the same to the pen except that would be such a mess.”

She clicked her tongue. Like losing our writing utensils would save us from having to do the project. “You want us to fall further behind than we already are?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said tightly at his easygoing expression, “because you never come to class, I’ve had to do all the work so far.”

One of his brows creased. “Yikes…that sucks.”

Anger coursed through her at what she took to be a patronizing response. Then he leaned forward and gave her a placating look. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Terra jerked back instinctively. To recover from the reaction, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “How do you plan to do that?”

“Let me take you out today.”

“. . .what?”

“Come on…please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Terra’s mouth parted and her cheeks heated. Why am I the one feeling embarrassed when he asked the question? Or more importantly:why was she not saying no?

His fingertips brushed hers and she sucked in a sharp breath, her body feeling like electricity jolted through it. Her gaze locked onto his clear emerald eyes.

Say no Terra. Say no. The sick feeling in her stomach she’d had the first time they’d met returned. What is wrong with me? Why do I feel so lightheaded all of a sudden? “Didn’t I tell you I’m not interested the other day?” she demanded weakly.

He nodded, his sleepy gaze glinting in amusement. “You also said you would consider hanging out with me later this week,” he murmured. “Remember?”

She did remember. But she’d really hoped he wouldn’t have. “Well, I’ve considered it and the answer is still no.”

“What if I finish our project? Would you reconsider?”

Terra scoffed to hide her surprise at his offer. “Why would I trust you with our project when you don’t even come to school more than two days a week?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Okay, that’s fair. In my defense though, I had a family situation to deal with.”

“A family situation,” she repeated sardonically. He nodded as she rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“So, is that a yes?” Gus smiled hopefully, tilting his head so he looked even more like that mutt they’d brought to the humane society.

Of course it’s not a yes, she wanted to yell at him. Instead she uttered a word she had never said to anyone in her life and it shocked her. “maybe.”

“Maybe,” he said before she could undo the damage. His expression brightened and she felt the same sinking feeling she’d had when Evie asked to style her hair for their 8th grade end of the year dance. “I’ll take it.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she remarked in warning. “I didn’t say yes.”

“you didn’t say no either…right?”

Her stomach tangled in knots, her face burning under his triumphant grin. How much longer is this stupid class? She needed to get out of there.Away from him. Before she gave in.

Busying herself in opening her history folder, Terra dropped her gaze to the empty timeline sheet. All she needed was to remain focused. Stay on task. Gus, however, was proving to make that very difficult for her.

He slid the folder away from her and took the pen out of her fingers. Terra glowered at him, her stomach jolting at the mischievous glint in his eyes. “If it’s not a yes and not a no it means it’s somewhere in the middle, correct?”

Terra gave him an irritated sigh. “Your point?”

“My point,” he said slowly, “is that I have a 50/50 shot.” He reached into his back pocket and it took all of Terra’s willpower to not break eye contact. No matter how much her eyes wanted to look somewhere else she needed to be ready for whatever he was about to do.

Why she didn’t expect him to pull out his wallet and take out a quarter surprised her. “What are you doing?”

He placed a tattered brown wallet back in his pocket and tossed the coin a couple of times. “I’m going to flip this coin and it will decide if it’s a yes or a no.”

Terra gaped, her eyes going from the silver quarter to him. “What makes you think I’ll say yes or no based on the flip of the coin?” Out of principle she would now do the opposite just to piss him off. She wasn’t that easily swayed.

Gus said the one answer that proved her wrong. “Because you’re curious, like me. I can see it in the way you are biting your lip and staring at the coin.”

The second he called her out she noticed her chewing her lower lip, stopping. Her cheeks burned. To get his attention off of her she growled, “why are you so intent on hanging out with me?” all she’d been was rude to him. This, more than knowing what the coin would say, she wanted to know.

Gus knew it, too. He smiled and it made him look dangerous. “I guess you’ll have to hang out with me today to find out.”

He flipped the coin in his hand and her eyes followed the movement.

“So, what will it be, Terra Carlan,” he asked quietly, chills racing down her spine. “Heads or tails?”

Her pulse jumped as she told him. “Heads.”

He grinned and flung it up in the air. Terra held her breath while it fell back to the desk, his hand grabbing it and slamming it on the top of his other hand. Then he lifted his fingers slowly and she leaned forward to see the outcome. He whistled as her hands got clammy.

“Tails.”

Terra jerked over the desk to see, her eyes praying it was wrong. “crap.”

A deep voice spoke behind her. “I don’t remember coins being necessary to do this project.”

Gus lifted his eyes to what Terra knew to be Mr. Lopes. “We were trying to decide who would do what, sir.”

Terra narrowed her gaze at him. Liar.

Mr. Lopes thought so, too.“Oh good. Well, I hope you figured it out. Because you’re both staying after to work on your project now.”

She said nothing as he passed their desks and went to Evie’s new group, his hands behind his back as he strolled. Terra gave Gus a murderous look.

“Look at that,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “It looks like we’re hanging out after all.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Evie sat outside of the front of her school and waited. Enjoying the warm day.

Wearing her high waisted jean shorts and new blue shirt tucked in, Evie let the sun and the soft breeze distract her from her exhaustion and the constant ache in her chest since two days ago.

For two nights she’d stayed up all night, sitting on the cold bathroom floor, hugging Mr. Elephant and going through the small collection she’d managed to take with her from Hatchet’s room before going with the police.

In the shoebox was a book with the last page he’d read still dog-eared. A purple bow he’d given her for her hair. The cloth handkerchief he’d used to wrap up her bloody knee.

All pieces of their time together.

All memories of him.

The only good thing about feeling such overwhelming loss was it dampened the prickling crawl of something bad still coming her way, and she took it as a sign maybe that storm might have passed.

Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. She glanced at her phone screen. 2.55. 20 minutes left before Terra got out of detention and 35 minutes before Everest’s practice ended.

The temptation to walk home made her stare out at the end of the school’s parking lot and towards Main street. Maybe Didi is still around and wants to hang out for a bit. She went to her contacts and clicked Didi’s name, hearing the phone barely ring once before being sent to voicemail.

Darn it. She must already be home. Didi’s parents were very strict, and all electronics and distractions were taken away until homework and projects had been completed. “Dang. I wanted an iced coffee.”

Caffeine with tons of sugar sounded right up her alley after the last couple of days she’d had. Everest would probably have no problem swinging by the Starbucks drive-thru on the way home. . . but if Terra was in as bad of a mood as earlier it wouldn’t happen.

Then again...if it’s two against one... Evie went to open her messages icon when a car pulled up in front of her, stopping. She paid it no mind. A window rolled down and whistled. “Hey, Evie.”

Her head popped up at the familiarity of the voice. She stared right into aviator sunglasses, her faint reflection showing her surprise. “Steven?”

“What are you doing out here all alone?” He rested his lean arm on the windowsill of the car door. Her stomach crawled beneath her.

“I’m just waiting for my brother and sister.”

“In this heat?” he asked, bewildered. Evie gave a nervous smile, praying the feeling now slipping up to her arms was from the nerves of him talking to her and not from something else. “Well, I’m heading home. Do you want a ride?”

Was Steven Arnold offering her a ride home? Evie had waited and thought about this moment for years, fantasizing of the fun they’d have and him leaning in for a kiss.

. . . then why was she hesitating to say yes?

Evie glanced back at the school’s closed doors. “Um... I think I should wait for Terra and Everest. . .”

She expected him to say, “suit yourself,” or “whatever” and then drive off. Instead, he smiled that adorable smile of his and said, “I thought we could hang out for a bit- so I can catch you up on the project,” he added hastily, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Evie’s breathing caught. And whatever reservations she had crumpled. “Okay.”

She snagged her lime green backpack off the wall next to her and shoved her phone in the front pocket. Steven put the car in park and stepped out of the car. “Here, I can put that in the trunk so you have space up front.”

“Oh, uh...thanks.”

She felt her face flush as he whistled a tune, going to his trunk, while she hopped in the front passenger seat.

He got back in and put his seatbelt on. “Ready?”

Evie nodded. “Thank you again for giving me a ride.”

Steven flashed Evie a brief smile and headed out of the parking lot towards main street. “No problem.”

Evie beamed as his 2008 grey Honda Acura pulled away from the school parking lot. Out of everything she’d expected to happen today, hanging out with Steven was nowhere on her list.

It was like she was in a dream. Which was much nicer than thinking about her memories of sun streaming through darkened windows and a boy sitting in the high-backed armchair with feet propped up. The strand of hair always falling in his face.

Steven distracted the weight settling in her chest by asking, “Do you usually have to wait for your family to go home?”

Jolted from the haunted images of Hatchet, Evie jumped before nodding. “Our mom is a bit over protective and prefers we go home together.”

Steven made a sound of understanding. “Yeah, I think I heard him mention something in class about them being a bit over the top.” He looked over at her and Evie felt her heart jump a beat. “Since you’re already breaking their rules, want to push your luck a little?”

“Um...” The thought of Carrie and Ed finding out she not only left without Terra and Everest- but went out with Steven somewhere- made her wince. “How much luck are we talking about pushing?” If it was before her parents and siblings got home the yelling might not be so bad.

Steven pinched his fingers together. “Just a little bit.”

Just a little bit. Well, that should be okay then. After all, when would she get another opportunity to ride in Steven’s car? Giving him a timid smile she answered, “I’m in.”

“Well, that didn’t take much convincing,” he laughed. He turned the volume up on his radio and nodded his head to a Post Malone song. “This slaps.”

Evie returned the smile yet felt anxious. She should have texted Terra and Everest to let them know who she was with and why she wasn’t at the school waiting. If Terra texted her and she didn’t answer immediately she’d freak out.

It’s fine. I’m with Steven…Terra will understand. She comforted herself with this, praying Terra wouldn’t rip her a new one when Evie got home. She’d already looked like she was ready to kill someone in History.

Evie looked down at her legs as Steven hummed along to the song, tracing the little white scars dotting them. Some of them were from her time at the mansion. And the rest were from when she’d discovered humans could be just as cruel as the Nightrealm.

Thinking back on her first days in human school she accepted that she’d been the weird, new girl. Curtsying to everyone who was in a higher authority than her. Her new sister embarrassed to be seen with her.

Hatchet wasn’t there to protect her anymore. And the loneliness she’d suffered outweighed the fear of talking to the other kids who’d picked on her all day long. Wanting so badly to have at least one friend. One person to talk to. She should have learned her lesson after attempting to befriend September what would happen to her. The group of boys she’d walked up to on the school’s field had done the exact same thing as September, except there were more of them. And Hatchet couldn’t rescue her that time.

Instead, Steven and his friends came to her aid. Threatening them and telling them to beat it. Since they’d been older and bigger the kids who’d hurt Evie didn’t challenge him or his friends.

It had been the first time a human had been kind to her outside of her family. And the day her crush on him had sparked.

He wasn’t Hatchet. But he was someone special to her. “Hey Steven.”

“Yeah?”

Evie flushed as she mumbled. “Thanks-” for helping me that day. For not treating me like everybody else.

He gave a silent laugh. “Anytime.”

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“Hey, look at that. We’re here.”

Evie blinked. Really? She was so lost in thought she hadn’t realized the car was now stopped. Glancing around in curiosity, she blew a strand of hair from her face. “that was fast. . .” her gaze landed on burgundy doors, dark green ivy stretching itself across stone walls and an all too familiar pathway. “Steven?”

“Yeah?”

She swallowed, her heart racing. “Why are we here?”

He put the car in park and unlocked the doors. “Come on. It will be quick.” When Evie stared at him in trepidation, he coaxed, “you said you wanted to push your luck with me, remember?”

“. . .I did say that-” but not here. Anywhere but here.

He looked unphased. “Well, this is it.”

Evie forced her gaze to break from his as she took in the Lamia mansion, the concrete path crumbling and the weeds on either side overgrown and wild. The nightmares she’d been having suddenly felt a little too real. Steven unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to leave the car. “Um…I’m going to grab my phone first if that’s cool.”

“Sure,” he said. Leaning down next to his seat he flicked a switch that popped the trunk open. Evie looked grateful and unbuckled her own seatbelt, slowly opening the car door. The ocean breeze slapped into her and she breathed it in with a shaky breath.

Calm down, Evie. Steven wouldn’t bring you somewhere dangerous. Getting to the trunk she thought she saw a silhouette standing in the second story window. Looking up and past the glare of the sun there was nothing there except shadows.

Steven stepped out of the car. “Man, it’s nice up here.” Evie busied herself by opening the trunk and searching her backpack covered in avocado print for her phone.

Steven heaved a drawn-out sigh. “You ready?”

Evie’s hands dug in the front and side pockets. “Almost!” She felt for the rubber case for her iPhone 6 but was coming up empty.

Where is it? She knew she put it in there before handing Steven her backpack. A shadow fell over her. “I’m sure it’s here somewhere…”

A phone was pushed close to her face. She inhaled sharply as a raspy voice spoke. “You won’t need it anymore.”

Evie froze. The voice didn’t belong to Steven.

Slowly, she craned her head behind her and looked away from the screensaver of her and Didi making peace signs when they’d gone to the beach at the beginning of summer. Right Into the dark eyes of a scowling face. “H-henry?”

Evie’s arm was grabbed, and she was spun to face him. She gasped and struggled out of his grip as he smirked, “What? Not happy to be back home?”

Home? Her throat ran dry. “W-what are you talking about…?”

He took her chin in his strong grip and his voice sharpened. “That’s too bad. Because you’re going to be staying here with me for a very long time.”

Her blood froze. “Steven-”

“-is not going to save you, Evie. No one will.”

And then he leaned forward and whispered close to her ear-

“I’ve waited for this day since you tried to kill me.” Evie barely caught the sound of a car door shutting and Steven driving away. Barely felt the cool breeze caress her prickling skin as Henry straightened himself and commanded- “remember everything-”

her head searing in pain from the memories that were veiled.

All her nightmares come to life.

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September sat on the bleachers and watched the track team run laps.

He’d never understood the appeal of humans willingly running as a sport. It exhausted him just thinking about it. Getting all sweaty. Ruining perfectly good shoes. Wearing such ugly clothing it nearly blinded his perfect vision.

The red track suits the team wore to practice offended September on a personal level, especially when he found his pretty boy looking like a badly decorated gingerbread cookie.

Still a snack September would eat though. He’d just be sure to get rid of the clothing first. He ran his tongue over his teeth, remembering the taste of pretty boy’s blood. Hatchet was going to kill him when he found out what he’d done. Making their purported enemy his companion.

Unless Hatchet planned to break clause 23 of the contract he could no longer expect September to hand him over to the Roses. Considering his oldest brother had always been a bit of a rule breaker (throwing a hatchet at their father, making a child his companion, yelling at Jain and September and August for correcting said child after she’d broken the cardinal rules) he wasn’t entirely convinced pretty boy was safely out of the woods yet.

That’s okay...if he goes after mine I’ll simply go after his. Hatchet planned to keep Evie alive for a very long time to enact his revenge. September had no qualms about snapping her neck if any harm came to his new companion. It was almost ironic how he suddenly felt this zealous protectiveness for a mere human boy, especially after September had made it a point to never get close to anyone after witnessing their tragic fates at the hands of his coldhearted father. Yet there was something about the Carlan boy that made September throw all caution to the wind.

Even when every fiber in his body retaliated against him disobeying Hatchet’s direct orders.

How can Hatchet expect me to kill him when Pretty Boy is nothing but a cinnamon roll?

It would be such a waste. Never seeing those slightly pointed ears turning red again. His dark grey eyes looking at September with such helplessness.

Besides, he was nothing like his parents. He hadn’t inherited their hatred for September’s kind- or their arrogance. When pretty boy spilled everything to September in the smelly janitor’s closet about him not believing that the Nightrealm are the monsters but that instead the members of the GARD were--his own parents and sister no less-- September had felt something heat inside of his chest that had made him uncomfortable. Made him angry. But at little Carlan or himself he hadn’t been sure.

Now he knew the answer as he watched pretty boy turn back to help one of his teammates who’d fallen. Watched him hold out his big hand to the smaller boy to take and hoisted him off the ground, patting him on the back to reassure him it was okay.

The genuine concern pretty boy had for everyone but himself made September simultaneously want to hug him and break the hand that held the smaller boy’s.

September muttered. “I don’t think I like him touching other people so freely.”

He couldn’t be sure but this feeling burning inside of his chest felt a lot like rage. Except September didn’t ever care enough to get angry.

After all, it was bad for the complexion.

Little Carlan was making him feel all sorts of feelings he didn’t like. Before September could deal with these new emotions he caught the younger boy looking at little Carlan all bashful and cute as they both headed to the metal bleachers towards two large red jugs. Pretty boy looked so carefree and relaxed that September felt a nerve in his jaw tick. He doesn’t get to look like that with someone else... not when he never looks like that with me.

September flashed and stood a few feet behind him, hearing him laugh. “Yeah man, it’s rough. But you’ll get there,” he said confidently to the boy. “It’s important to pace yourself.”

The younger boy was busy filling his orange plastic bottle. “Yeah, that’s my problem I think. Being so careless.”

“He’s not the only one,” retorted September.

Little Carlan jumped. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening when he found September standing directly behind him. September grabbed the back of little Carlan’s sweaty jersey when he looked like he was going to try to do something foolish and run.

September smirked. “Miss me?”

The paling of his skin didn’t look like it but the ears turning that delicious color might mean he had. September didn’t wait for him to ask something stupid like- “what are you doing here?” or “what do you want?”- as he held tight and flashed the two of them to the other side of the school.

Little Carlan gave a delayed cry and stumbled forward, September stopping his head from hitting the brick wall in back of him.

“W-what’s going on?” he stammered, taking very quick breaths.

September released the damp jersey and pushed him back into the wall, Little Carlan’s eyes nearly popping from his head. “I told you I’d come for you after school, did I not?”

Little Carlan’s expression looked helpless. “B-but I have practice right now...”

“Practice huh?” drawled September from the lame reason, his smile becoming tight. He pushed little Carlan farther. “I don’t care if you were saving the world. When I want you, you come. That is your role as my companion.”

“W-what?” cried little Carlan. Then loudly he added in a squeaky voice “I...I didn’t agree to anything!”

“You didn’t want to be killed, right?”

Little Carlan looked horror-stricken. “O-of course not!”

“Then how about you act a bit more grateful for going out of my way to save you?” snapped September. He saw little Carlan’s eyes take on a sheen and his dark mouth trembled. “Are you going to cry again?”

Little Carlan answered with a sniffle and a quick shake of his head. September rested a hand on his forehead at the heavy ball slinking into his stomach. That was another emotion September didn’t enjoy feeling now. The feeling of guilt.

“I...I had to go to practice,” explained little Carlan, his eyes clamping shut. “I’m...I’m the captain.” z

“For someone who complained about being so exhausted hours ago you’d think practice would be the least of your worries,” remarked September with an irritated sigh, loosening his grip on little Carlan’s jersey.

Little Carlan sniffled again. “Running helps to clear my head.”

“I’d rather be stuck with my thoughts then succumb to running.”

“Y-you don’t like running?”

September quirked a brow. “Do I look like I enjoy running, little Carlan?”

He peeked one of his eyes open and looked at him from head to toe. He sounded dejected as he answered. “N-no...I guess not.” September, as Everest discovered after one of the other vampires called him during the zombie attack,

His reaction made September huff a laugh. “Why do you look like I just told you I have cancer?”

The blood rushed to little Carlan’s ears. “S-sorry.” then in a mumble, “it bums me out when people don’t see the positive side to running.”

“I didn’t say I don’t see a positive side to it,” countered September. Little Carlan opened his other eye and stared at September in surprise. September grinned and leaned up on his toes to boop him on the nose. “Humans need to feel like they have some sort of survival skill in place after all.”

Little Carlan’s ears burned hot. “T-that’s not why I like running,” he said, disappointed.

“That’s good,” sighed September, “because you’re not very good at it. Which is why,” he added slowly when Little Carlan looked about to argue with him, “I have put a failsafe in place by making you my companion.”

Just saying it made September’s stomach bunch up in knots. A companion. His very own companion. How he’d never thought he’d see the day.

Little Carlan looked less than thrilled by this news, his expression becoming nervous as he asked cautiously, “w-what does being your companion mean by the way?”

“It means my brothers can’t kill you or expect me to kill you. Unless you break our contract, that is.” September lowered himself and crossed his arms, smiling at a terrified looking pretty boy. “So, as long as you behave yourself and follow the rules, you’re safe. Probably. Most likely.”

“I...I don’t understand. W-why would you do that? What rules? Why do your brothers want to kill me?

“Well, it’s not you specifically they want to kill. It’s your whole family.”

Little Carlan’s chest started to rise and fall at a rapid pace. “W-what? Are they going to hurt my family? T-terra and E-evie and my m-mom and d-dad...?”

There he goes again. Clicking his tongue, September muttered. “I keep forgetting how easily riled up you get.” He leaned up on his toes to take hold of pretty boy’s face whose mouth was inhaling and exhaling at a fast rate as he cried, “I’m going to be sick.”

“If you throw up on me I’m going to be very upset with you.”

“My family...I...need...to...warn...them-”

“What you need to do is breathe and calm yourself. No one is going to die-” I think anyway. Still, he left that part out and added with a reassuring smile, “You’re underestimating your new owner. I told you I would come up with a plan to save you, didn’t I?”

Pretty boy blinked at him tearfully, his breathing coming out in stuttering breaths. He nodded. “Then I need you to do exactly as I tell you to.”

“I...I don’t understand...”

“It’s not your job to understand, little Carlan. Just to obey.”

He looked stricken. “W-what?”

“Do you want to save your family or not?” Pretty boy nodded vehemently and this made September smile. “Then be a good boy and stop arguing with me.”

To September's surprise, pretty boy listened for once. September lowered his hands and wrapped his arms around his waist to pull him close. “W-wait! W-what are you doing?”

September ignored him. “I’d close my eyes if I were you.”

“H-huh?”

“Just remember I warned you,” chuckled September, enjoying the racing heartbeat thrumming in pretty boy’s chest.

Little Carlan opened his mouth to respond yet barely got out a gurgled cry as September flashed both of them to the mansion.

Pretty Boy’s new home.

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It hurts.

Cuffs cut into my arms.

The needles are deeper.

Soon there will be nothing left.

A sharp feminine voice demanding more.

The woman who took me.

She is slowly draining me.

They know I’m dying.

I should be scared.

But I smile.

Ready for it to end.

TWENTY SIX

August thought spending his afternoon with Terra Carlan was the worst case scenario.

He’d discovered being put in detention with her trumped that.

At least if they were hanging out after school he could use his powers to ease her burning desire for his blood. But Mr. Lopes was watching both of them like a hawk ready to swoop down at the sight of a mouse, forcing them to sit at their desks and work separately on the project until it was done.

All the while he could feel the murderous looks bearing into his back from his enemy.

August ran a hand through his blue hair and silently swore. Hatchet better be happy with me after this. Bringing Terra to Hatchet so he could finally enact his revenge had to earn August at least a smile from him, if not a pat on the back.

Zed’s voice slipped into his thoughts and stilled his pencil on the timeline sheet. Sometimes it isn’t worth waiting for someone to give you the praise you deserve.

I don’t need his praise. I just want him to treat me like his brother and not some outsider all the time.

Mr. Lopes interrupted his thoughts. “I have to go make copies. You two better keep working or I’ll have you come back tomorrow.” August nodded and watched him leave the room. Terra didn’t say anything, and he wondered if that was because she was still too busy giving him looks that could kill. If her reputation was true he wouldn’t put it past her to be able to do so.

Better see if she’s about to inject me with the same toxin that had been used on Hatchet. He shifted in his chair to check, expecting those stormy dark eyes to be locked on him. What he didn’t expect was her head to be down, her expression troubled.

Well, that’s weird. “Hey,” he began slowly, still searching for any needle on her person. “You okay?”

“Don’t talk to me,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Are you really this mad about us having detention?” he asked, bemused. Her pulse spiked in response and he found himself slightly surprised to see a flush creeping up her high cheekbones. “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

“What part of ‘don’t talk to me’ was not clear?” Although she said it in a growl she kept her head down, the pulse in her neck jumping. He swallowed down the desire to lean forward and push his teeth into her neck, imagining how her blood might taste.

Distracting himself he placed his chin in his palm and remarked curiously, “Is there something I can do to make you not so mad?”

Terra didn’t answer, but her cheeks were rosy now. Without thinking, August admitted, “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

She sucked in a sharp breath as he realized his mistake, her eyes flying up to lock onto his. “Wow, sorry,” he laughed. He was so thankful he didn’t blush like humans or else he’d be beet red at his stupid remark. He must be fatigued from not eating. His mind was not working to full capacity. “I should have kept that to myself, huh?”

Her lips parted before she told him, “j-just get back to work.”

“Right. Will do.” August silently berated himself when he caught her covering her cheek with her delicate looking hand. He turned around again and asked slowly, “you sure you’re alright?”

She tensed and dropped her hand to cross her arms. “Of course I am,” she snapped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

August heard her heart skip so quickly he had no doubt she was lying. Man, is she really this heated about the project? It made sense, he guessed, how her parents would hold her up to such high standards. Somehow he could relate to the pressure, thinking about how his own late father and mother had never been happy with anything he’d done. The struggle to be the perfect son and brother, failing at both.

Sighing, he shook his head. “Look...I get it--you don’t like me,” he began, talking about the project and the expectations to always do everything right. She eyed him like he was a rabid dog as he continued, taking her paper, “and I screwed up by not being able to come to class to do my half of the work. So, I’ll finish it and you can leave...”

Terra scoffed. “You’re right. I don’t like you.” Her heartbeat skipped again and she averted her eyes out the window.

Surprise flitted across August’s features. Is she lying about not liking me? Out of all the things he’d thought she’d tell the truth about it was that. It bothered him-- her acting the same way he had with Hatchet as a kid. So desperate to keep it a secret that he’d cared about anyone but himself at all.

Shaking off the tug of endearment he started feeling towards her he cleared his throat.

“Your words wound me, but I’m still going to help you.”

She snorted. “Yeah, no thanks.”

August slid the paper from under her nose and lifted it up to his face when she finally looked back at him. He heard her suck in air through her teeth before demanding shakily, “what are you doing?”

“I’m seeing what answers you need to complete this...” his voice trailed off, his eyes locking on the bottom of the page.

He heard her heartrate slam into hyperdrive as she whipped her hand out for the paper. “G-give that back to me!” She ripped it out of his hands and crumpled it up into a ball, slamming it into her backpack, glaring at him a moment later. “Don’t. Touch. My. Stuff.”

His disbelieving gaze followed her movements in stunned silence, her cheeks a crimson against her caramel skin. “I know I’m probably asking to get hit, but...why is my name written on your paper?”

Hert heart slammed violently in her chest. “Y-you’re my partner, right?” she said, shoving her pencil case and cell phone in her bag. Doing everything she could to not look at him. “Obviously, I’d put your name down since we’re partners.”

Another skipped heartbeat. Another lie. He bit his lower lip to stop his smirk. “Right...right. And the heart next to it?”

“W-what heart- there is no heart!”

August grinned at the double skip. She is such a bad liar for a member of the GARD. “My bad. I must have been seeing things.”

Well, his job just got easier. If Terra liked him he’d have an excuse to get close to her. Good timing, too. He was running out of excuses to have her spend time with him.

Mr. Lopes chose that moment to come back with a large stack of papers in his hands. “You two make some progress?”

August turned and nodded, giving her a wry smile. “I think we did. What about you, Terra?” he asked calmly, seeing her skin become burgundy and her eyes dart down. “Think we made progress?”

Her heart was beating so fast she placed a hand to her chest. “I have to go to...to work,” she said, hopping up.

He couldn’t be sure but that one at least sounded true. “Give me a sec. we can walk out together.”

Terra practically jogged out of the class at that. “See you tomorrow Mr. Lopes!”

Mr. Lopes looked towards the doorway and then at August. “If I were you I wouldn’t get on her bad side.”

Grinning, August admitted with a chuckle. “I think it’s a little too late for that, Mr. Lopes.”

“Then you’re in for a long school year, bud.”

August put his paper in his bag and chuckled. “I’m counting on it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?”

August adjusted the strap on his shoulder and looked thoughtful.

“Yeah. I think it does.”

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Hatchet couldn’t believe it. He’d won.

After weeks of patiently planning and waiting Evie was once again his. His to do with as he pleased.

His brothers had done excellent work in finding her and the family who destroyed everything he’d known. After he dealt with her family and handed them to the Roses he’d be able to devote his full attention to her.

He’d never killed or tortured anyone before. But he couldn’t imagine it being too hard. His father used to do it as if they were nothing more than rodents who needed to be eradicated.

A sick feeling traveled from his gut to his chest. Father always said I would one day be like him...I guess he was right. Seeing Evie trembling in front of him, sunken to her knees and her hands covering her ears should have given him pleasure the way it used to his father seeing someone so much weaker fearing for their life.

Yet all he felt was anger. Disgust.

Since making his traitorous companion walk into the mansion by his command, up the stairs and down the hall to his room where she used to come to see him, he’d repeated the last line she’d said to him before the poison had made him fall unconscious, several years ago. Said it to her as she’d begged and pleaded with him to listen to her before telling her to stop talking:

“I’m sorry. But it’s the only way.”

He’d expected the cruel irony to not be lost on her. Yet the line didn’t change her heart rate or make her react any differently than she was now. Sitting on the floor, eyes closed, mouthing silently- “this isn't real. This isn’t real...”

Hatchet watched with all the callousness he could muster as she fell apart, her round cheeks speckled in light freckles streaked in tears, strands of her cinnamon hair sticking to the moisture, rocking slightly back and forth on his black rug.

Hatchet rested in his high-backed chair with his arms crossed, his thin black t-shirt stretching against the lean muscles that were slowly returning, his hands clenching.

This is all part of the revenge, he reminded himself, fighting against the faint traces of feelings still surging to the surface. He tampered them down with a derisive laugh. “Cry and beg all you want. You’re never leaving this room again.”

Despite her hands clamped over her ears she must have heard him because she shook her head.

Hatchet did his best to watch her dramatic display with cold indifference. But Evie kept morphing into the child he’d trusted with his life and it caused him to nearly leave his chair and go to her.

A foolish desire. The same desire which had struck her after he’d returned her memories outside the mansion, her lips uttering “Hatchet” as if it was the most precious name, her expression broken and relieved right before she’d attempted to wrap her arms around him again.

He’d noticed the look almost too late, ordering her to not move the second her foot took a step towards him. Shock had crossed her features and then settled with a look of betrayal, and it had made him snap at her- “You don’t get to look at me like that.”

He’d hoped the rage seeping from him was conveyed in his tone. And not regret.

The guilt.

If Evie had caught on she hadn’t shown it. Not when he’d commanded her to walk into the mansion. Not when he’d told her to enjoy the fresh air for the last time.

Especially not when he felt his will caving to make her suffer as the dark purple cloud hovering around her consumed her as she continued to sob while sitting on the recently vacuumed black rug.

Damn it. If father were alive he’d beat me for being so weak.

It should have been easy to watch her be so miserable. See her form his name on her lips in desperation. Instead, he felt his barely beating heart pricked with needles laced in the black poison she’d injected into his back.

His arms crossed tighter across his chest, his hardened look only on the surface. “You have no one to blame but yourself for this. Remember: everything you suffer from here on out is on you.”

“H-hatchet...”

His eyes widened. Did she break through my command?

She mouthed his name again and he listened intently for what should have been impossible for a human to do. He heard the faint whisper again, realizing with a pang the sound didn’t come from Evie.

At least...not the Evie there with him.

A memory, he realized in understanding. The second he connected to where the sound was coming from his mind tricked him into seeing the child version of her, her messy curls pressed down against her small hands, the violet cotton dress tight around her midriff and upper arms.

It had been perhaps one of the only times she’d shown up to his room on time, and the only time his meeting with his tutor had run late. He’d entered the room and saw Evie crouched on the ground, her hands blocking her ears, every part of her buzzing in fear.

“H-hatchet,” she’d whispered. “Please come back.”

Hatchet watched his past self walk towards her, hands in his dark navy blue slacks and his hair falling in his eyes as he’d crouched down in front of her. “What trouble have you caused this time, silly girl?” past him sighed. Hatchet remembered he’d first thought she’d been hiding in his room away from his brothers or Jain which was why she’d showed up early for once.

Then he’d heard the thunder in the far distance, probably 20 miles out. Hatchet and his past self both slowly looked to the window when past Evie had flinched at the same time the thunder cracked, a small whimper escaping her mouth.

His past self had placed a comforting hand on her hand and had teased her foolishness. Hatchet blinked, watching in horror as the child version of Evie had returned to the present version, his past self still crouched down and smiling fondly at her.

“Stop that,” he growled. Both his past self and Evie shifted their heads in his direction, their looks of confusion mirrored.

Hatchet blinked again and saw his past self disappear-

Leaving only present Evie there with him.

He shrugged off the ghosts of his past. Maybe coming to my room was not the best idea. Of course his room would only have good memories between the two of them. That was where they’d spent almost all of their time together.

It would explain why he was finding it more difficult to see her looking up at him with such hope it made him want to break and tell her he wasn’t going to go through with it. Even when he tried to hold onto the memory of her betrayal it slipped through his fingers like shadows.

It shouldn’t be this hard. Hating her should have been like needing blood to survive. All those years in the darkness, withering away to nothing. All that time he’dspent praying for death or for someone to find him and let him out of his tomb.

All because of her.

That’s it...think about the days that never ended. Think about the fear you suffered from. All from the courtesy of Evie.

Control smoothed away the remnants of wavering as he held onto the reminder of the room he’d been trapped in for years.

“I’ve waited a long time for this, Evangeline... Ever since I woke up. All the while you thought you were safe and living the last seven years with your little family,” he sneered, Evie’s watery gaze locking onto him as she shook her head slowly, her heart rate spiking.

Evie hopped up onto her feet. He watched her with a veiled disinterest and expected her to bolt for the door. Instead she faced him, wiping the streaks of tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. Taking in a shuddering breath she lowered her hands and clenched her fists, mouthing: Let me speak.

Hatchet steepled his fingers and rested his chin on top. “No.”

Please, she said, her lower lip quivering.

No, he mouthed, smirking when her watery gaze flashed. That’s it... show me the real you, Evangeline. He waited in ease for her to run. To attack him. Anything to give him the confirmation she was his enemy.

Except to his frustration she didn’t do either. Hatchet watched with veiled surprise as she grabbed handfuls of her straight hair and tugged hard before she darted a fervent look around his room.

What is she planning? His sharp gaze followed heras she began rushing around his room, first going to the black chest of drawers against the wall, flinging open every drawer in search. He wondered with a sick lurch of his stomach if she was searching for a weapon she might have stashed years ago. But then she straightened, her gasp loud, and he saw a dusty black pen in her left hand.

Ah. She is going to try to communicate by writing. How amusing. He didn’t move from his seat to stop her. It wouldn’t matter if she could write to him or not. Nothing she said or wrote would sway him. Would erase his desire to hurt her. Once his brothers brought their prey to the house the fun would start. He just had to be patient... a little while longer...

Evie ran from the half opened drawers and sprinted to the window seat. She gave him a fleeting glance as she passed by him, the color around her deepening to violet when their eyes connected. Pulling the window seat up she disrupted the entire array of pillows he’d placed there, her harsh breaths only muted when she threw his collection of books out of it and onto the floor. “You’re going to clean that up.”

Evie ignored him. Too intent on finding something to write on. But Hatchet knew she was wasting her time. He hated writing. There was nothing there except his books.

She let out a huff and he knew she came up empty. Kneeling on the floor she tapped her fingers anxiously on the wooden edge, biting her lower lip. The color surrounding her shifted from the dark purple to a hazy green. She was nervous. But because she failed or because she was going to try something else he’d have to wait and see.

He didn’t have to wait long. Evie uncapped the pen and exposed her wrist. He said nothing as she winced when the pen tip bled into her arm, the curved letters littering her olive skin.

I thought you were dead.

His lip curled. “Hope doesn’t always spring eternal, does it?”

Evie’s expression looked horrified. An odd look considering that had been her intention several years ago. Hatchet dismissed it as she lifted her arm and furiously wrote-

WHY WOULD I WANT THAT?

“Why, indeed,” replied Hatchet, his gaze burning with red. Her large hazel eyes slipped from her arm to look at him, fear darkening the usually bright golden color around her as he slowly rose from his chair, crossing the short distance to reach her. Evie stumbled back and crawled a few feet away before she hit the mahogany leg of his bed. He didn’t stop until he was in front of the worn down black converses she wore, crouching down slowly. Tampering down the deja vu of their past he grabbed her arm and dragged her close until she was an inch from his face.

“Out of all the things you could have said, this is by far the one I have wanted to know since you tried to kill me and left me to die.” Evie began to violently shake her head against his accusation but he wasn’t in the mood to humor her denial. She struggled in his grip and fought to get away, the pen in her hand waving frantically. Angry, he hissed and jerked the pen from her hand, flinging it in the opposite direction. “Your time of explaining is over-” it’s all lies.

Tears slipped down her face. I’m sorry Hatchet...” she mouthed. I’m so sorry.

His gaze widened. Then narrowed. “Sorry means nothing coming from you-”

Hatchet was cut short after something clanged into the back of his head, a starburst of pain before the wound healed itself. He released her and looked for the object, finding a scuffed up smart phone behind him. His gaze flicked to the doorway where the culprit stood, his heart beating rapidly in his broad chest.

The boy’s dark grey eyes gleamed. “Get away from my sister you monster!”

TWENTY SEVEN

Everest couldn’t believe he’d hit a vampire. With his cellphone.

All the marksmanship training at the GARD Academy really had come in handy...

He would have celebrated if the vampire didn’t look like he was going to rip Everest’s spine out through his mouth. Especially when he remarked in a gravelly voice, “perfect timing,” as if he was waiting to do just that to Everest.

It took every ounce of self control to not wet himself, right there. “G-get away from my sister...you monster,” he stammered, flicking a scared look between Evie who was crying and trying to grab onto the vampire in front of her who was now slowly rising to stand. Yet no matter how many times she tried she was stopped. . . but by what Everest couldn’t tell since there didn’t seem to be anything between them keeping them apart.

A voice spoke behind him, and it made him jump out of his skin. “I didn’t know you could be brave,” said September, impressed. The little demon came around him and stood in front of Everest, hiding the trembling in Everest’s legs.

The evil dark haired vampire stopped glaring at Everest and looked at the little demon. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but you finally didn’t disappoint me.”

Everest sucked in a sharp breath. Huh?

Little demon sighed. “You really thought I wouldn’t bring him?”

Everest stared at the back of the little demon’s head. He was supposed to bring me here-to this monster? Everest’s body hummed in trepidation as the scary blood smirked. “I had my doubts, yes.”

“Y-you said you’d protect me-and my family” whispered Everest. The little demon quirked his head to the side and scowled. “That was a lie?” he finished, his mouth trembling.

He knew the promise came from a blood but he’d believed it when he’d said he wouldn’t hurt Everest. That he’d find a way to protect his family.

Serves me right for trusting him.

The little demon said nothing. Just gave him a warning look. Then he returned to the scary one. “I’m glad you planned on my disappointment.. It will make what I’m about to say to you much easier.”

Evil vampire’s smirk fell into a puckered frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say you can’t kill prett- I mean Little Carlan like you’d hoped-”

“Excuse me?”

“-unless you plan to break our code of respect,” continued September as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. As if the scary vampire’s eyes didn’t suddenly flash red.

Everest clamped his own shut when the scary vampire flicked a cold look at Everest. “what do you mean break our code?” Then he hissed. “What did you do, September?”

If September was afraid he didn’t show it. Instead, he chuckled, and it sounded more threatening than the other one’s hiss. “You don’t remember, brother?”Everest’s blood chilled. Brother? They’re related? “The code you forced us to keep for your little pet over there and not kill her. Ah, but I almost forgot... It's nice to see you again, little piggy,” he said brightly, and Everest found he was speaking to Evie, her head shaking back and forth. She glanced up at Everest and the pained expression on her face made him try to go to her. Stopped by the little demon.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Everest opened and shut his mouth, twice, no sound leaving. As if sensing what he wanted to say, September reprimanded. “Be a good boy and worry about yourself-” and that was enough to stop Everest from arguing. It was also enough for the other vampire to figure out what hadn’t yet been spoken aloud.
“You made him your companion.” The room hushed except for a gasp from Evie. Everest looked at her stricken expression. What does that mean? Why does Evie look so horrified for me? Like I was just given a death sentence?

Evie attempted to get up but was grabbed by the scary one. “Sit down,” he commanded harshly. Everest struggled to go to her when he saw her do as he ordered, her tears falling silent as she gazed at Everest. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“D-don’t talk to her like that,” stuttered Everest.

September warned in a hushed tone. “You’re not helping, little Carlan.” He returned to his brother, admitting loudly, “that’s right, brother. He is mine.”

Scary one bared his teeth. “What the hell were you thinking? He is our enemy!”

“Your pet is also our enemy, so I figured it was only fair.”

Scary one growled. “You condescending brat.” he slowly rose to his feet, easily coming to Everest’s height. The little demon didn’t bat an eyelash.

“You touch him and I’ll break yours piece by piece.” His voice was surprisingly calm for facing such a terrifying monster. They faced each other down, and Everest had no idea how the little demon would be able to stop the other one from killing Everest in a flash. He also didn’t know how he’d stop the little demon from hurting Evie.

“P-please don’t hurt her,” whispered Everest. He could feel Evie’s terrified gaze on him but he didn’t look away from the back of September’s head. He felt so helpless. He should be protecting his sister. Not relying on his kidnapper/attacker to do so. But what could he do? He was useless.

Heaving a sigh, the little demon murmured. “That’s all up to my brother.” He cocked his head and crossed his arms. “So, what will it be? Will you back down and let me explain or shall I kill her now, Hatchet?”

Everest’s eyes widened. “Hatchet?” All three in the room turned to look at him, his mouth dropping open. Without meaning to, he pointed at the scary one, chills running down Everest’s back at the death stare he got in return. He shook his head. “I thought he died.”

That’s what Evie had told him when she’d first come to live with them. Mourning his death to this day still. All those nights he’d heard her sneak to the bathroom to break down when everyone else was asleep, and he’d have to listen to it coming through his wall-his room right next to the bathroom-wishing he could comfort her. Wishing she’d let him.

He didn’t believe she’d lied to him. There’d be no point. Not when his parents confirmed the same thing she’d had. Still, he couldn’t stop staring at the scary blood-the one named Hatchet if that could be believed- as if he was a ghost.

Hatchet sneered. “Looks like your despicable parents aren’t as careful as they’d like to think. I’d tell you to relay the message they shouldn’t use a child to do their dirty work, but you won’t get the chance-”

“What are you talking about? What child?” cried Everest. Seeing Hatchet flick a resentful look at Evie he moved to go to her, once again stopped by September. “Let me go!”

September’s grip tightened. “I told you to worry about yourself-”

“-How can you think Evie would hurt you?” Everest interrupted him and directed his comment to Hatchet. “You have no idea how much she cried from believing you were dead! She...she loved you- and my parents would have never involved her in killing you!” The thought angered Everest. His parents loved Evie like their own daughter. They would never have hurt her like that. . .

Would they?

He sucked in a shaky breath and willed the burning in his chest to be his defense, especially when he noticed the hardening look on Hatchet’s face. He went to continue his rant yet had his chin grabbed by September who brought his face to his level. He commanded harshly, “Don’t say another word unless I tell you to.”

Everest felt his voice escape him, and September released him, clearly annoyed. He found Evie’s eyes on him, her head shaking slowly, her expression filled with a mixture of shock and betrayal. Wait, why is she looking at me like that? I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. Then he realized his colossal mistake. Oh no...

Evie hadn’t known about their parents. About their part in the eradication of the Lamias. He tried to explain through his expression- I’m sorry. I should have told you...but they asked me not to.

Evie turned her head away from him. And he knew his words wouldn’t undo the damage.

“Aside from my pet’s unneeded outburst,” drawled September. “He did bring up something I’ve been meaning to share with you, brother.”

“And what is that?” snarled Hatchet.

Hatchet crossed his arms as September placed his hands on his hips. “It turns out these two have been lying to each other. I heard it down at the beach the night you and August were going at it.”

Hatchet rolled his eyes but stiffened at September’s admonition. “You knew she was the Evie I was looking for all that time?”

September gave an indifferent shrug. “I had my suspicions. Their conversation solidified them though. I haven’t had a chance to talk to prettyboy about this yet but I guess now is better than never.”

Everest’s ears burned hot as he remembered how fast his heart was pounding being so close to Evie. Did the little demon know? Was he going to out him to Evie about this secret, too?

She already hated him after he blurted out the one. What would happen if she found out about the other secret he’d also been hiding for years?

September chuckled. “I just need the last one to get here so I can confirm my assumptions. And speak of the devil...August is here.”

Everest felt the intimidating presence of someone behind him. He craned his neck to see the blue-haired boy the little demon was always at school with now standing in the doorway, his expression relaxed. His smile fell as he looked about the room, his shoulders deflating. “Damn it.”

September arched a brow. “Forget something?”

Hatchet slapped a hand to his face, growling. “How could I be blessed with the two biggest idiots for brothers?”

August looked defensive. “I slipped, okay? You try being on your best leg when you haven’t fed in days- and why are you yelling at September now? He at least did what you wanted him to.”

Hatchet huffed a sharp laugh. “Go ahead, September. Tell August what you did.”

Everest inched away from the glare being directed at him from Hatchet as September admitted, “I made little Carlan my companion today.” Although he still looked unbothered Everest noticed his tone softened toward the new blood called August.

Now Everest felt the glares of both brothers and it made him want to cover his head and hide. For a beat the one named August didn’t say anything. Then he groaned. “Damn it, September. . . tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. And I have no regrets from my decision. Pretty boy is now mine. No one can touch him but me.” He tilted his head and smirked at Hatchet who looked like he was ready to rip September’s head off. “Sound familiar brother?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Hatchet yelled. He went to rush forward but was stopped by Evie who placed herself in front of him. She vehemently shook her head and Everest watched in horror as Hatchet pulled his foot back like he was going to kick her.

“Don’t,” Everest tried to scream yet it came out in a loud gasp.

He fought September’s hold who flicked him a threatening look. He didn’t care. He wasn’t going to sit by and watch Evie get hurt. Even if he was the one who got hurt in her place.

September grabbed his face again and forced his gaze towards his. Everest tried to plead with him, surprised to see the determined expression September wore. He mouthed, “trust me,” his big doll-like eyes narrowing.

August scoffed, dragging September’s attention away from Everest. Everest shot a scared look to Evie and saw to his relief Hatchet didn’t kick her. He merely stepped around her. September clicked his tongue and darted a reproachful look at Hatchet. “You worried my pet. He thought you were going to hurt her. He’s a very sensitive soul.”

Hatchet made a face of disgust. “Tell your pet he should be worried. After I deal with you I’ll continue where Evangline and I left off-”

“No,” cut in September sharply. “You will wait until we have the other Carlan and get to the bottom of this.”

“Did I miss something when I wasn’t here?” August crossed his arms, glancing between the four of them. Everest noticed his gaze hardened when he looked at Evie. Evie had told Everest Hatchet used to protect her from his brothers. Were these the ones that used to hurt her?

September pinched the bridge of his nose. “Both of you have,” he grumbled. “All this time you chalked it up to Evie working with the Carlans but I don’t believe that’s the case. If so, why were Evie and my pretty boy lying to each other about what happened to Hatchet? If they were working together they would have known.”

Hatchet gritted his teeth. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe they played you?”

September clicked his tongue. “You clearly haven’t been in the presence of pretty boy to know he’s as soft as a cinnamon roll-and by far the worst liar I’ve ever met. But...if it’s proof you want, I am happy to provide it.” Turning to Everest who felt completely embarrassed by September speaking about him that way and like he wasn’t there in the room he almost didn’t hear when he ordered him, “tell my brothers why you lied to Evie about knowing her true past.”

Everest’s ears burned as he opened his mouth and did as he was ordered to do, feeling the panic of Evie learning everything in just one night. He didn’t try to fight it this time. He was too tired. He shut his eyes and let the truth pour out of him and everything he’d heard while in the GARD’s training facility.

And after he’d regaled them with the entire story of what happened when Evie had come to live with him and all the years after, he recalled parts of his memory that had been stored far deep in his subconscious. A conversation he’d overhead between his parents about a week after Evie had come to live with them.

He glanced up and stared at September who watched him with an unreadable expression.

“It was an inside job.” Then in a rush-

“Someone from your clan set the whole thing up.”

Twenty-Eight

Evie and Everest were ordered to sit outside of the room and wait for the brothers to figure out their next move.

They’d been given their voices back, but Evie had nothing to say. Not after everything she’d just discovered.

Hatchet was alive. Everest and her family were members of the GARD. Her adopted parents were responsible for the massacre of the Lamia clan. Hatchet and his brothers wanted to kill her family. And Hatchet... he wanted Evie to suffer.

She wrapped her arms around her torso and sucked in a shuddering breath. It hurts. It all hurts too much. Her gaze caught the slanted writing on her wrist and it made tears slip free.

Everest must have seen, his timid deep voice breaking their tense silence.” Evie...”

Remembering Everest made her look over, feeling a mixture of betrayal and disappointment. She was so angry at him - angry for lying all these years- but she was scared for him, too. “What were you thinking?” she demanded in a strangled sob. September was the worst one Everest could have made a pact with. If she wasn’t too busy holding herself together so she didn’t fall apart she would have hit him, repeatedly, telling him what an idiot he was.

She sucked in a painful breath when he admitted in defeat. “T-they told me not to tell you. They said you deserved a peaceful life after...after everything you went through,” he finished in a whisper, glancing away.

Evie shut her eyes and said through a strangled breath. “I wasn’t talking about that.”

Everest sucked in a small breath. “Oh.” For a few seconds he didn’t say anything and Evie didn’t think he wanted to talk about it. Then he whispered, “I didn’t really have a choice...but,” he said with a hope lighting his voice, “he told me he’d protect us...all of us.”

She gave a brittle laugh. September? Out of all the brothers he was the least likely to help a worthless human -a human attached to the GARD no less. “And you believed him.”

She couldn’t hide the resentment from her tone. Everest looked at her but she kept her gaze averted. “He...he promised me.”

Promises meant nothing to her anymore. Hatchet had promised to always be there and then wasn’t. Evie had promised to save him and didn’t. Carrie and Ed and Terra and Everest had promised her they were a real family-but clearly that was a lie, too, after they’d kept her in the dark about who they really were. What they were responsible for doing.

There were so many questions spinning in her head. No answers found in sight.

She bunched her knees up and tried taking deep breaths. To warn him. “Listen to me: y-you have to tell Terra,” she said, the pain in her heart becoming unbearable. More tears fell and she felt his worried gaze on her. She continued, knowing the three boys in the next room could hear everything, just like she could hear them. “Before he hurts you.”

Everest copied her stance and heaved a sigh. Evie was trying desperately to ignore the tense arguing occurring between the brothers. From hearing Hatchet’s voice.

“You don’t know the first thing about having a companion!”

September groaned. “Like it’s so hard.”

August interjected, sounding like a reproachful dad. “Do you even know the name of your pet?”

“Of course I do,” said September defensively. “It’s... pretty boy. No-wait. Little Carlan?”

“Everest,” Evie answered angrily.

The room went silent for a beat.

“Everest,” chimed September. Followed by a loud slap and him yelping in pain.

Evie was dragged back to Everest as he decided to continue his defense. “I know what I’m about to say will sound stupid. . . but I...I need you to trust me.”

She shook her head at him. He was right- that did sound stupid. Especially after discovering all of his lies.

Everest must have sensed her withdrawing again because he went on in a rush. “Just hear me out. I am not happy about this outcome either...but I do believe him. He could have killed me when he kidnapped me and brought me here the first time-”

“What?” Evie jerked her head to look at him, horrified. Everest’s ears turned red as she interrogated, “What do you mean he kidnapped you? When?”

“Um... I don’t remember. A week ago? It was the day I was late picking you and Terra up.”

Evie straightened and stared at the wood paneling in front of her. That was the day Hatchet revealed he was alive to me in the theater. If September had Everest and Hatchet had Evie...

“Terra,” she said in a gasp. Then she slammed a hand over her mouth and stared at the door fearfully. She looked at Everest who was frowning at her, confused.

She’d been so wrapped up in her own crap she’d forgotten about August mentioning forgetting to bring her to the mansion. That had to be Terra.

The yelling in the room switched to who they thought they should enact revenge on first- the Roses or the Carlans- Hatchet’s voice rising by the second.

Evie slowly released her arm and reached out a shaking hand to grab Everest’s.

“Evie, what are you-”

She lifted a finger to her lips, gesturing to be quiet. She gave a curt nod and pointed to his hand, now palm up. Slowly, she traced a letter on his palm.

D. she glanced up and watched him imploringly to see if he’d gotten it. He swallowed. Then nodded.

She wrote again. O.

Out of the corner of her tear-filled eye she saw him nod.

Hatchet yelled at one of his brothers- “I don’t care, I’m not letting Evie go.”

Her heart squeezed. She kept writing to distract herself. Focusing on writing out the question:

“Do you have your phone?”

Everest’s angular face struggled to put the words together. When he did his jaw went slack and he slapped his forehead. He gave her a sheepish nod.

He slid it from his back pocket and went to text Carrie when Evie placed her hand over the phone. “Terra,” she mouthed.

Everest didn’t argue or ask why he shouldn’t alert his parents- the Captains of the eradication unit- which relieved Evie. She didn’t have the energy to admit to him how she didn’t want them to come kill Hatchet and his brothers. Because that would be what would happen if they’d found out the Lamias were still alive.

On the other side of the wall she heard September say- “both of our pets are awfully quiet. Do you think they ran away?”

“Don’t be stupid,” remarked Hatchet. September must not have been sold because she heard him walking with light steps to the door. Evie sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed the phone, placing it next to her right leg, hoping he wouldn’t see it.

Everest tilted his head at her, but glanced at the opening door when September peeked his head out. “Oh good. You’re still here.” Evie turned her face away so he wouldn’t see the hate burning in her eyes. Although he’d matured his voice was still the same. Musical. Soft.

Sadistic.

She recalled the many times that same voice had haunted her as Everest asked September in a hushed tone, “is this part of your plan?” She didn’t miss the doubt etched in his words. Or the increased breaths.

September must not have, either, clicking his tongue in reproach. “You and your traitorous sister are still alive so...yes.”

Evie couldn’t stop her head from whipping to look at him as she demanded, “why am I traitorous?” Hatchet hadn’t explained it to her but this was the second brother to hint she was responsible for Hatchet’s fake death, claiming she wanted him dead when that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. She knew him being shot was her fault. Had taken the blame all on her own since that fateful night.

But he’d been the one who’d made the choice to cover her from the attack, not her. He’d chosen to protect her.

September gave her a cruel smile, and she was brought back to the many times he’d tormented her when they were children. “Don’t worry. Your master will remind you soon enough.”

Evie clenched her fists and spat, “I don’t have a master. And neither does Everest.”

Hatchet and August were still busy arguing. September glanced towards them and then returned to her, his eyes crystallized emerald. “You should really worry about yourself, little piggy.”

Everest glanced up at September, pleading, “please don’t call her that.”

September broke his cold stare and met Everest’s worried look, his expression softening. “We’re going to have to work on your backtalk.”

Evie watched the two in alarm. She was expecting September to injure her brother. Not gently scold. That wasn’t his preferred method in dealing with humans.

Evie shook her head with a laugh of disbelief. “I can’t believe this-” but because she was seeing her strong and kind older brother succumb to the same servitude as all the humans had at the Lamia mansion or because her mortal enemy showed a whole other side to him she didn’t know. Maybe it was both. Or all of it--the entire afternoon.

She couldn’t focus on all of it right then. Instead, she focused on the issue at hand and gave September a threatening look, ignoring the ripple of fear his presence incited. “Let him go, September-” he doesn’t deserve this.

“Look at you,” he said in surprise. “All these years away and you’ve forgotten your manners. If I didn’t think my pet would never forgive me I’d remind you, here and now. . . ow!”

A hand grabbed September’s purple hair and yanked him back into the room, and the door shut with a resounding click.

August. It had to be him. Hatchet had never been so openly violent towards his brothers. His preferred method to hurt them was with his silence and indifference.

Thinking about Hatchet made her breathing catch. Everest brought her back from the brink of breaking down by asking, “why does he call you little piggy?”

“Because he’s the worst,” she answered with feeling. Before he could ask her to elaborate she turned to Everest and mouthed, “keep talking.” She pointed to the phone when he didn’t catch on, him nodding a second later.

“So this is crazy, huh? Vampires and pacts and revenge plots-”

Evie shot him a look. “Something else, please-” so I won’t start crying again. He looked sheepish but complied.

“So your friend Didi keeps texting me and asking to hang out. I don’t know how many times I can tell her no, ya know? It’s like, “hey, I’m not interested. Please stop harassing me.”

She wasted no time in grabbing the phone and pulling up the messaging box. She found Terra’s name at the top of the screen listed as “Ugly” which she knew was a term of endearment between the two since Terra had the same thing for him.

She hastily typed out-

“Terra, it’s Evie. Don’t leave the house. Stay home. Not safe. I’ll explain later.”

She hit the “sent” button and held the phone close to her chest. Everest was now going on a tangent how their mom was never happy with him and how he always disappointed her.

“God, if she ever found out about the... the companion thing, I’d be dead.”

Come on, Terra... Answer me.

A ding echoed down the hall. Evie and Everest both jerked their heads to the sound.

No... Evie prayed she was seeing things until Terra held her phone out.

“Too late.”

Twenty-Nine

Murder. That was what Terra wanted to commit.

After getting detention with August and catching her writing his name on the paper-

all she wanted was for her supportive brother and sister to distract her. What did she get instead? Not finding either one of them at home or at the froyo store Evie worked at. No. She found them at the banned blood mansion-soon to be super mall-canoodling together.

She flashed them a glare and saw the fear etched on both of their faces. You should be scared. “You are both so dead,” she said through gritted teeth, storming down the hall towards the two of them.

Evie and Everest’s eyes widened and they shook their heads vehemently, raising fingers to the lips and shushing her.

Are they serious right now? Terra came to a stop and placed her hands on her hips. “Oh, I know you’re not shushing me..”

“Shut up,” Everest whispered fiercely, and pointed to the closed door. Terra gave a look like he was crazy. “What?” she yelled. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you.” When the two of them kept looking back and forth from her to the door with frantic gestures Terra threatened. “You both have five seconds to follow me out before I call mom.”

A brush of air touched the back of her neck. “I don’t think they can.” The sudden warning pressed into her chest before she understood the terror in Evie and Everest’s eyes.

A blood. Terra could sense the chill coming from it. Her body froze, thrown back to the attack at the bunker. Then she heard her drill instructor’s voice screaming at her-

“Don’t ever hesitate!”

Terra didn’t think. Didn’t worry that Evie would see and ask questions. Not when they were in danger. All of her training kicked in, and she swiveled on her black boots and spun behind the blood, taking the laced knife out of her back pocket-something she carried now after the attack- and grabbed it in a chokehold with the knife to its throat, its long dark hair tickling her nose.

Evie and Everest stared at her in shock, making her scream. “RUN!”

The blood winced. “Well, this is unexpected.”

“Who sent you?” Terra demanded in her scary voice. He came to about her height and was about as skinny as her. But she could sense the power underneath his calm exterior.

He cleared his throat and sounded annoyed. “November Lamia.”

November Lamia? But he’d been killed years ago... Terra’s confusion was momentarily distracted as the door next to Everest and Evie opened outward, revealing a tall dark haired boy.

“I already told you and your annoying prince to never call me by that name-” his voice trailed off as he took in the scene in front of him. He smirked, meeting Terra’s confused stare. “Ah... I understand now. It was your cry for help.”

Evie tried to reach for the boy, which concerned Terra more than the random stranger, her gaze darting between him and the one Terra held hostage. “Please don’t hurt her.”

“Hurt her?” questioned the blood. “I’m the one with the knife to my throat.” Then in a quick sigh, “What on earth did I walk into?”

Another boy with bright purple hair stepped out of the room and Terra recognized him from school. He flicked her a bored look before tensing.

Terra snapped at him. “Don’t just stand there...get out of here-all of you!”

The two who came out of the room didn’t react. She shot an imploring look behind them. “Evie, Everest, run!”

The one she was holding hissed. “I already told you they can’t- and please stop yelling in my ear.” She responded by pushing the knife closer to his carotid artery. He winced and it made the purple haired boy step forward, his expression stricken.
What the hell is going on? What is wrong with them? Maybe it was because they didn’t know what they were all dealing with. Everest did, but he looked like he was about to be sick so he wouldn’t be any help. She shut her eyes and strove for patience. “Look, you don’t understand. This thing is a blood-a vampire,” she explained angrily when the taller boy gave her an indifferent look. “He’ll kill all of you if you don’t get out now!”

Someone else stepped out of the room. She barely glanced their way as she yelled at all of them again- “I’m serious! You need to get out of here....” Terra’s command fell off in a gasp when she saw the crop of blue hair, her stomach feeling like she’d been punched.

“Gus?”

“Terra?” The way he said her name-in surprise-made her stomach flop. That changed when his very handsome face filled with concern and he looked at the blood. “Maze.”

Maze? She held the blood tighter when he responded drily, “Don’t, August. If no one does anything rash it will be okay.”

August? Who the hell is August?

Terra inhaled sharply. Why did she know that name? Somewhere, in the recesses of her mind, she recalled Evie talking about the friend she’d lived with. And his brothers. One was named August... the other-

“September.” the purple haired boy confirmed her apprehension by flicking her a hardened stare. Terra’s teeth clenched as she swerved her alarmed gaze to the first boy to appear. “Which must make you Hatchet.”

His challenging smirk answered her suspicion. “It’s good to see one of you GARD scum actually pays attention.”

“Don’t antagonize her,” said the blood. The first blood, Terra realized, putting the situation in front of her together like the first hit from the bloods in the bunker. Air rushed out of her lungs and she stared at the three boys in bewilderment.

“How... are any of you still alive?” Her parents had killed them. Killed them all.

Gus distracted her, raising his hands palm out, placating. “Terra, I’ll explain everything if you let him go.” When he spoke her heart sped up and she felt like she was going to throw up.

It all made sense now. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Terra didn’t have crushes. Didn’t bother liking anyone. She should have seen the warning signs sooner of why and how she’d let herself get swept up by someone like him. A blood, no less.

Not just a blood...a noble blood- if they really were the famed Lamia children, and somehow survived the raid her parents’ orchestrated. Normal bloods were dangerous alone-the three in the bunker nearly taking her out- but noble bloods...

Terra was in trouble.

Which Evie backed up by yelling, “d-don’t trust him! He wants revenge on our family-”

The dark haired boy jerked his head over his shoulder and ordered, “not another word.”

“Evie...” Terra had seen the effects of coercion during training. Had gone through it herself. Still, it hadn’t prepared her to witness it in action, Evie’s voice coming out in a gasp after the curt command. Evie shot the boy a look mixed with uneasiness and indignation.

This was not what Terra expected when she’d followed the GPS signal on Evie’s phone. To learn noble bloods presumed dead still lived, and were coercing her family. Apparently seeking revenge on them. When she’d first walked up the steps and saw the two of them sitting side by side she’d expected Everest to have confessed his feelings for Evie, and they were talking about what to do now.

That had been her worst case scenario. Not this. Not holding a blood hostage. Not finding Gus-or August- being one of them. There was so much going on her mind went blank. Shutting down.

Through the dimmed chaos she heard an amused voice whisper through her head. “Such a troubled look you wear.”

She clamped her eyes shut. Hesitating.

Forgetting one of the most important rules of all.

Never. Leave. Yourself. Wide. Open.

A brush of air tousled her hair. “I like this one.”

Terra barely tensed and started to look over her shoulder when something slammed into the side of her neck with such force she crumpled to the ground, her vision dimming.

Everest’s cry following her into the unconscious.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The woman is back.

Talking.

So loud it hurts my ears.

She’s excited.

No.

Scared.

Says they won’t stop.

They’re coming.

Coming for me.

Thirty

ALAINA- DO NOT READ NOTES ON NEXT PAGE UNLESS YOU WANT SPOILERS :D

Continuing this, Terra discovers Gus (her very unwanted crush) is a blood. Along with the other two who then decide to attack her but are stopped by August who makes a deal with her if she doesn’t kill Maze right then they could all walk out of there alive that night.

Disgusted, Terra only agrees when Evie pleads with her not to hurt any of them. She holds the knife up and says if they try to go near her she will cut them and it will inject a special made poison into their system, rotting them from the inside out.

Hatchet nearly loses it as that’s the toxin that had been injected into him. Maze says as loud as she is he likes her. Someone behind her with a deep voice agrees. Then knocks her out. (prince Zed).

When she comes to Terra is in a room with Just Evie and Everest and growls, yelling at them for keep them from escaping.

They both have to admit they accidentally let their blood get ingested and were told they couldn’t move. Terra freaks out and checks over her own body and discovers no markings. She asks them in panic if any of those monsters took her blood and they both said no. They just knocked her out and Gus carried her in. And then they ordered Evie and Everest into the room as well (not really, Hatchet was trying to take her but was forced to comply with his brothers). When they come back, She goes in front of her siblings and prepares to fight. Stopped by the one called Hatchet sneering and saying he and his brothers have decided on what he believes a stupid course of action. Saying until he figures out how to undo his stupid brother’s (September) contract with her brother and how to rid of her they needed to work together to rid their common enemy first. (Hatchet appreciates the irony of taking what Jeremiah said and turning it against him). Says the choice is theirs. They can either help them rid the Rose’s first or Hatchet could kill her now.

Evie sucks in a sharp breath and says not to hurt her. Hatchet gives her a dark look and tells her to stop talking to him.

Terra snarls, “funny, I was going to say the same thing, but to her.” Then says after realizing who he is, out of all the discoveries she’d had that day, finding him alive and still hurting Evie made him the one she wanted to kill the most.

He gives her a cold smirk and says he has no intention of letting her remember it. He crouches down and Evie tries to back away, making Terra yell at him and attempt to go to him but is stopped by August. She keeps her eyes shut and says she will kill both of them, August dragging her out of the room. Everest just watched in terror, September looking grim as he also takes him out and says he has to erase his memory for now.

He brings him to his room and Everest is yelling at him saying that monster is going to hurt Evie. He informs him in a clipped tone he is not. At least, not right now. He glances around the hallway and clamps a hand over Everest’s mouth, gesturing for him to be quiet. He whispers he isn’t going to hide his memories and that he needs to keep him alert. But says he does have to make him do something that doesn’t make September very happy.

Everest’s relief withers as he asks him what that means. September tells him he has to rejoin the GARD in order to get his keycode back. Everest shakes his head no and so September tries to gently explain why but when that doesn’t work he commands Everest to. Everest looks defeated, betrayed, and angry, and tells September even if he gets hit he hates September.

September laughs it off and says that didn’t matter, but he felt the sting of it.

Back with Terra and August she tries to attack him but he stops her. All the while averting her gaze. Said she should have known something was wrong when she started liking him, and offering to help him with homework. He tells her she’s making this harder than it has to be which earns him a roundhouse kick to the gut. He grabs her foot and throws her off balance, landing on top of her.

She hits him in the face and tries to slide out from under him. He stops her. They are both breathing harshly. August gives her a dark smile and says he thinks he’d rather her remember everything but not being able to do anything about it. Said so she remembers how she fell for a disgusting blood-

And then she screams “you made me do that. I would never like someone like you-”

He says he did not. Just said she had to hang out with him. Everything else was on her.” Angry and embarrassed Terra demands if that’s why he blurted out she was pretty during class then, and says that was on him. Then realizes how stupid this fight is when she needs toprotect her brother and sister and get them the heck out of there. She tries to grab her knife but comes up empty and August asks her how stupid she thinks they are. She slips out a pen from her back pocket that has a paralyzing agent and stabs him with it.

He glances down and she grins at him, forgetting to not make eye contact. He orders her to not move until he can and that she can’t tell anyone about what happened that day or try to hurt him and his brothers. Says she will remember everything, and that when he wants to hang out with her he will.

Hatchet comes to find him and demands what is going on. August tells him she stabbed him with something. Scared it's the venom he flashes over and grabs her, demanding her what it was and she tries to stab him with it. Angry when she can’t.

August laughs at her. Tells Hatchet to leave them alone. Whatever he got injected with was already wearing off. Terra’s heart beats frantically as she realizes that the paralyzing agent only works for no more than 15 minutes but they must be strong if it was already wearing off.

Hatchet releases her and says that the other two were already heading home so not to keep that one for too long.

Before he goes, August tells him to take the pen so she can’t cause anymore trouble. She laughs and says she isn’t close to starting.

Hatchet tells August he and September better know what they are doing before he leaves. Terra hisses at him and tries to fight his commands, not understanding how he did it when she had no recollection of him taking her blood. He is also trying to fight the numbing stuff. Terra, frustrated, demands what the hell they want with her and her family. August tells her nothing much. Just revenge. Terra copies his nonchalant tone and says that’s funny thats what she would be doing to him soon, her heart slamming in her rib cage worrying about her family. He gives a silent laugh and says if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat he’d actually be worried. She bares her teeth at him and says it didn’t matter what her heartbeat said, she would make good on her promise.

And he told her so would he.

They laid there quietly for a minute before Terra asked him why they wanted revenge. She could understand the GARD but why her family specifically. Why Evie.

He says because they were the ones that massacred his whole family. And evie betrayed his brother.

Terra is momentarily distracted by thinking about her family’s involvement and

EDIT HERE

For last two chapters:

Everest goes into his room after he hears Evie is having dinner with Hatchet, upset. He doesn’t trust him. He nearly has a heart attack when he finds September sitting on his computer desk, chilling. He demands quietly so his sisters won’t hear what he is doing and how he got in.

September remarks in a dry laugh for someone still training he’s still so very dumb. Says after everything he went through, he should be more careful and lock the windows.

Everest tells him to get out then sees there is a sadness about him. Says August left for good. That Hatchet doesn’t want him there now that he knows what he’s capable of.

Everest half suggests/ half hopes that he should go with him. September says it isn’t about what he wants but what Hatchet wants. There’s a deep respect that can’t be ignored based on the needs of family and Hatchet is rebuilding what was lost to them. Then lightens up and says, “besides, I wouldn’t be able to see you anymore pretty boy...”

Everest gets embarrassed and tells him to stop calling him that, but gets pushed into his office chair and September sits on top of his lap. Everest freaks out and tells him to get off, but has a hand clamped over his mouth and September kissing his neck. Says-” Or be able to hear you moan.”

He bites Everest who tries pushing him off but then his hands grab onto him instead, his body pliant for September.

When he is done feeding off of him he murmurs he made a mess and runs his tongue from the bottom of Everest’s neckl to the place where he bit, and Everest enjoys it a little too much.

September chuckles and removes his hand over his mouth and says, “you know what my actual favorite thing about you is, little carlan?”

He is breathless and dealing with a mix of indignation and pleasure, asking what.

September tugs on his ear lobe and comments amused that whenever September’s around his ears are always the same delicious color.

Before Everest can comment from embarrassment September leans his head past his shoulder and his sharp teeth brush his earlobe, making Everest such in a sharp breath as September remarks curiously if it tastes as good as it looks-

Everest manages to push him off of his lap which can only happen if September lets him and says now they’re even. September cocks his head to the side and asks him even about what? He doesn’t remember Everest making him moan like he was in the midst of the greatest pleasure of his life.

September covers his ears when September laughs in delight and points at them, Everest stating they’re even for September saving him and his family’s lives and Everest keeping quiet about the Lamias being alive.

Said he could tell the new captain anytime, so he should remember that.

September finds his threat amusing and sits backwards in the office chair, saying he’s so cute when he’s flustered.

Everest growls and goes to yell when his phone buzzes. September smirks and says he can answer that and then they’ll finish their conversation afterward, how he’s a patient man.

Everest answers the phone and hears a lot of crackling and his mom’s voice not clearly coming through. He jokes that the rehab center must be on a budget cut if service is that bad, but his mom interrupts, her voice hurried and sharp, telling him

She doesn’t have much time before he shows up, and he needs to protect Evie from him. Said he’s going to find out soon about what Evie is and what her blood can do-

Everest interrupts and says he doesn’t understand what she is talking about. Looks over his shoulder at September who also appears concerned as he can hear the conversation.

Carrie tells Everest Evie is part of the Rose clan and she’s a half vampire. Her blood is what they use for the antidote.

She tells Everest to protect his sister no matter what- and then the line goes dead. Everest yells into the phone but is stopped when September clamps a hand over his mouth and mouths to be quiet. Says he is going to alarm his sisters and then have to explain what he’d just heard.

Everest shrugs him off and paces, eventually sinking to the floor.

Feels like everything has been a lie and now doesn’t know how to save Evie, the one person he wanted to protect from all this.

September comes over and forces him to look at him by grabbing both sides of his face. As calm and seriously as he can muster he tells Everest he doesn’t know why he is so surprised when humans have no code except their own agenda.

Everest ignores the truth from September and tells him he doesn’t know how to protect Evie from the GARD. Says he’s never heard his mom sound so...so-

“Scared.” finishes september. When Everest stares up at him in building tears from his helplessness September takes over, and makes him stand up and tells him there is only one person who can protect her.

Before Everest has a chance to ask who he is flashed to the mansion with September. They knock on Hatchet’s door But Everest freaks out and tries to run after Hatchet threatens to rip his head off the next time he sees him.

Hatchet opens the door and says he didn’t know Evie was bringing a friend but stops when he sees the two of them.

September shoves Everest forward and tells Hatchet he’s brought Hatchet good news about his little piggy.

Hatchet lowers his fist and tells him he has thirty seconds to tell him something worth his while.

But Everest asks if he can put that on hold and throws up.

Fifteen minutes later after Everest has washed out his mouth and is sitting down in the room, Hatchet demands he now tell him everything.

Everest looks at September for help, scared they got it wrong.

September places a comforting hand on his shoulder and looks at Hatchet seriously. Everest regains some courage and tells Hatchet before he tells him what he’s just found out, he has to promise to protect Evie no matter what he’s about to say.

Hatchet’s gaze narrows and his jaw tenses. He promises Everest.

Logistics for book:

The first four chapters are important but might be able to be condensed.

August and September flew to California because of August’s vision. Thinks about how long it’s been since they’d been back.

Waiting for September to go to the bathroom but is impatient about waiting.

Thinks about how all the hints and clues led to dead ends about finding anyone from his clan. (A clan is those who swore their loyalty to the lamias along with the Lamias)

The reason the lamia clan had so many people was because after the mutiny against the Rose clan they jumped ship so as not to be killed. However, some were.

JAIN WAS ONE OF THEM! Duh duh duuuhhhhhh due to jain’s gift November lamia wanted to use him for his own gain.

Didn’t expect to be a Benedict Arnold (but we saw that coming).

When August and September arrive to their old home they don’t know who they’re going to find but they do not expect hatchet.

I think this should be done at the beginning of the school year and they should join the class late.

Mmmm I’ll work out those logistics I guess.

Anyway, I need to work on who is responsible for killing the girls and not give the secret away so quickly. Also, work on why hatchet needs his brothers to go after the Carlan children. Unless it is to keep them busy. Actually, that works because that is what August is doing with terra meanwhile September has developed a bit of an obsession with Everest so he breaks the rules.

AHHHHH how about hatchet tells them to kill the siblings after he obtains Evie and September refuses. Also, August because he’s not a killer. How about August and hatchet get into a huge fight about it because hatchet acts all murderous and intent on killing them and August argues that they can get revenge on them in other ways without taking their lives.

Hatchet screams that they didn’t hesitate to take the lives of their people and family so why should they? August says he sounds just like their father and this makes Hatxhet grab him and slam him into the wall. Tells him if he ever compares him to their father again he’d need to find a new clan to belong to.

The roses have already implemented their plan into action. Jain had secretly been taking care of them in an estate located in the city over. Jain has only had enough time to warn someone in the Rose clan to save the children. Not wanting to deal with the halfbreed child as she was useless to his plan he made her forget everything and brought her to the lamia clan as part of receiving everything left over. He’s thought she’d be killed along with the other humans when hatchet stepped up to her rescue. It put a damper in his plans, but he could use her to his advantage.

Mmm... I’m thinking this needs to be developed more. Although Jain wanted revenge for the rose clan why did he wait a year?

I still think the peace treaty might be a good idea. I might change that. Why kill Evie? Jain could just be an elitist. If he had Carrie under his thumb...no, not Carrie. ED!

Yo, what a twist. Okay, so Ed is under his thumb. Why make Evie kill him then? Betrayal? Make him suffer at the hands of the one he secretly loved?

Dang I’m overthinking this. Anywho, back to the story

Okay, so the Roses want Mina and Zed to marry in order to combine the two clans. Since the Rose clan are the most prominent in power Zed would therefore be under their reign which would mean the Lamias would either have to swear loyalty or be killed.

But Mina is still missing. Ish.

UGH I JUST MADE THIS SO MUCH WORSE.

I have too much going on. I know Hatchet wants revenge on Evie.

How did the Lamias get the Rose’s address?

Okay, I just need to finish the book. Once I finish it I can come back to edit this crap.

So, what’s next?

I know at some point the Carlans will be kidnapped by the Rose Clan. Due to being “compromised”

I know Hatchet will start seeing Evie as innocent.

I know August and September are going to get attached to Terra and Everest

I know Nicole is going to hack into the computer system and find out where they’re keeping Mina

Somehow I think this has become a much larger project than I anticipated.

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