Blood Descendants (Vengeance and Venom #1)

Chapter 5

I ’m extremely confused when I wake in the morning.

This incredible bed isn’t mine. That ceiling is completely unfamiliar. The smell of this place isn’t old and slightly sour like it should be. And it’s too cool for what me and my roommates can afford to spend on air conditioning in the summer.

But as I sit up and look around the beautiful bedroom, it all comes flooding back.

Right. I gave up my apartment to move in with a vampire I don’t even know.

You’re insane, Lana, I think to myself.

But I roll out of bed and scrounge through the bags of my clothes. I pull on some workout clothes and head straight into the home gym.

Never, ever would I associate such a luxury to myself. Growing up, we always struggled. There was never enough money. I was the kid who got every bit of clothing from a secondhand store. I never owned anything new in my life .

And now, I’m living in one of the most expensive buildings in New York City, walking into my own personal gym.

Maybe I hit my head on my way to that party, and now I’m actually lying in a coma in some hospital, dreaming up this insane life. The vampire part, though? Definitely more creative than I actually am.

I jump onto the treadmill and run till I can hardly breathe. The entire time, I’m listening for the sounds of life in the apartment, but I hear none. It’s still silent when I get off the treadmill and go for the weights. I throw some music on to stifle the silence and get a full workout in. An hour after I woke up, I wrap it up and wander out into the hallway.

“Ares?” I call out. I don’t find him in that next bedroom over, and the bed doesn’t look slept in. I find my way to the kitchen, and to my surprise, there is a spread of pastries waiting there, as well as a cup of coffee.

Valiant.

It isn’t my typical breakfast by any means, but it was thoughtful. So, I down a bear claw. I next find the fridge fully stocked. I opt for a glass of orange juice to wash everything down.

There’s still no sign of my fake fiancé when I head back down the hall. I fish out my shower supplies and jump in. An array of body jets and elaborate shower heads greets me. I take it in with a disbelieving smile.

Twenty-five minutes later, I’m showered, hair done, makeup in place, and dressed in black jeans, a black tank top, and black combat boots. If I’m going to play the part of a vampire’s fiancée, I might as well dress for it.

And just as I step out of the bedroom, Ares stops in place, obviously on his way to the room. I don’t miss it when his eyes drop down the length of me, taking in every black-clad inch of me. The little smile that curls in the corner of his mouth is enough to make my heart trip.

“You ready to put everything in motion?” he asks.

“Yep,” I answer, slipping my phone into my back pocket. “Where were you this morning?”

We head out the door, and Ares locks it behind us. “Keeping an eye on my father’s place, watching his comings and goings.”

“Does he live in Manhattan?” I question as we step into the elevator.

Ares nods. “He’s in Greenwich,” he says as we descend. “For now, at least. He’s always buying new properties, and when he gets his hands on one he particularly likes, he’ll take up residence. Last year, he was in SoHo, the year before that, he was in Hudson Yards.”

Of course. These are all some of the most expensive places to live in the city.

“You said Augustus is keeping tabs on you,” I say. “You aren’t worried he’s going to know you’re spying on him?”

“It wouldn’t be anything new,” Ares confesses. The elevator doors slide open, and we walk out. Immediately, Ares slides on some sunglasses. They’re fashionable looking, but I note how they fully encase his eyes in a subtle way, effectively blocking out all the brilliant sunlight pouring through the windows into the lobby. Ares gives Lazlo a tip of his head as we walk by, who returns the gesture. “I’ve been back in Manhattan for two years. I haven’t stopped keeping an eye on that man the whole time. Augustus won’t think anything of it.”

We aim back down that hall and let out into the parking garage. “Where were you for the year you left? ”

Ares offers me a pleased look as he takes the helmet and extends it to me again. “You’re asking all the right questions, Vengeance. We might just pull this off.”

I take the helmet and yank it down on my head, praying I don’t end up with helmet hair all day. Once more, Ares helps me strap it on, adjusting it to fit just right.

“I went to Portland for about eight months, made some friends there. Spent two months in Costa Rica rethinking my life. And then I bought this bike in Texas and took another two months slowly making my way back to New York.”

I want to ask him more questions, but we’re ready to go. So, when Ares straddles the bike, I climb on behind him, making sure my feet properly find the pegs. Knowing what’s going to happen if I don’t, I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling secure enough not to fall off.

The engine roars to life, and Ares carefully backs us out of the parking space. Expertly, he maneuvers the bike until we pull back out onto the road. Just before he rolls out, he asks over his shoulder for my work address. I rattle it off, and off he takes. We weave through traffic, traveling down the length of Central Park before plunging down into the depths of Hell’s Kitchen.

I’m trying to rehearse what to say as we head toward the gym. But I’m not entirely sure how I make this convincing. I’ve worked at Valor Combat Sports since I graduated high school. Tate Kelso has been my boss for two years now. I might despise the man, but he’s not completely oblivious to my life, not like my roommates. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach that tells me this isn’t going to go particularly well.

Anxiety pitches higher in my blood when the building comes into view. Ares slows and then comes to a stop at the curb. My limbs feel stiff, my movements jerky as I climb off from the back of the bike.

“Your boss going to be a problem?” Ares asks as he dismounts and takes the helmet as I remove it. “Your heartrate is going crazy.”

I flush at that. Damn vampire. “Most likely,” I say as I nervously run my hands through my hair.

Ares simply makes a noise I can’t quite interpret as he secures the helmet. And then he slips his hand into mine, sending my heart straight against my ribcage. He pulls me after him through the doors.

The scent is the most familiar in my life as we step inside. It’s at once home and the source of an exceptional amount of pain, all at the same time. It’s the same place I came to after the worst day of my life. It’s where I learned how to fight. Where I had my first kiss. It’s where I thought I’d find my own path in life. And it’s where I lost it all, where he walked all over me.

There are two rings when you first walk in. To the left, there are heavy bags and speed bags, all the stuff you need to train as a boxer. To the right is our MMA cage. Straight ahead, there is a hall with five doors branching off of it; one leads to my classroom, one is the weight room, two open to the locker and shower rooms, and the last leads to Tate’s office.

There are a dozen people here, even though it’s late morning now. I recognize every one of them, all the amateurs, all the trainers.

“Garrett, you seen Tate this morning?” I call out to the trainer I’ve known since I was thirteen.

“Back in his office,” Garrett calls out. “What you doing in here this early? ”

“Got some shit to take care of,” I answer, as at home here as anywhere in my life.

“So, just another Monday, eh?” he calls with a chuckle as he holds up the punch mitts. He glances away just once, though, his eyes going straight to my fingers interlaced with Ares’.

I don’t answer him as I steer both of us toward the office.

“You’ve spent more than just work time here,” Ares notes aloud.

But I don’t get a chance to confirm, because I knock on the office door before pushing it open.

“You’re not on until tonight,” Tate says, barely glancing up at me from his paperwork.

“I know,” I acknowledge. “But something’s come up. I’m going to have to take some time off work.”

That grabs his attention. He finally looks up, but it isn’t me he looks at. His gaze immediately locks on Ares. He looks him up and down, taking in the tattoos, the piercings, the dangerous set of his jaw, and the fact that he hasn’t removed his sunglasses despite being inside.

“Ares Hunt,” he says coolly as he steps forward, his inked hand outstretched. “Lana’s fiancé.”

Tate’s eyes narrow, and he shakes Ares’ hand automatically. “Fiancé,” the word comes out like it doesn’t have any meaning. And his eyes slide over to meet mine without moving his head. “What the fuck is this con talking about?”

Wow. Judge much?

“Let’s not pretend we’re friends, Tate,” I say, all of my insides bristling. “Just cause you aren’t part of it doesn’t mean I don’t have a life outside this building. And don’t you dare call him that again. ”

Ares squeezes my hand, and I’m not exactly sure what it’s meaning is. Appreciation? Support? Trying to calm me down?

“Some like keeping private things private,” Ares says. “Don’t assume you know anything about anyone, and your life will be much simpler.”

Tate is sizing Ares up. Which, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’d be on par with one another. Tate is six-two, the same height I’d guess Ares is. He’s well-built, muscled, and solid. Tate spent five days out of seven here before his hostile takeover. He can take on pretty much anyone who walks through the front doors.

But Ares is more than meets the eye.

“Why do you need the time?” Tate finally asks as he looks back over at me.

“I’ve got some in-laws to meet,” I say, going for as close to the truth as I can manage. “And wedding plans to make. Life is going to be a little… complicated for a few weeks.”

“And you think I should just let you out of work because you come in here with someone you say you’re engaged to? Come on, Lana. You’re not a very good liar.” I hate the look on his face, the one that says he thinks I’m stupid. I hate that he’s seeing through this so damn easy.

“Lana’s lips always taste like strawberries and kiwi.” My heart jumps up my throat as Ares steps forward. He rests his hands on the surface of Tate’s desk, but every inch of him looks poised to rip the man’s throat out. He leans in close, his tone calm and deadly sounding. “She has two little freckles on her left ass cheek. She prefers dark chocolate to milk. She hates Monday mornings more than just about anything. And she makes the most incredible noises when she comes. When you know any of those details, then you can call her bluff. ”

Shit. I feel like my entire body has gone red. I press my thighs tighter together, and something in my lower belly tightens.

Ares words reach a very deep, very primal part of me that’s been dormant for a long time.

Tate’s eyebrows rise, and he sits back in his chair, putting some distance between the two of them. And finally, something that looks a bit like fear alights in his eyes. His survival instincts were never honed. He might not have sensed the danger Ares is when we first walked in. But he certainly senses it now.

“What about your classes?” Tate asks, trying to fight the intimidation he feels.

“I will message everyone and tell them I have some personal stuff to take care of,” I offer. “It won’t be the end of the world if class is cancelled for two weeks.”

“Except the money I’ll lose,” Tate says with angry annoyance.

Ares reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet. I can’t even imagine the cash this man must carry around all the time. But he extracts another stack of hundreds and drops them down on the desk. “That ought to cover it. So, do the human thing, give Lana the time off. And leave her the hell alone when she comes back.”

Without waiting for an answer, Ares turns. He takes my hand again and walks us out the door.

I spare one glance back, catching Tate’s eyes. There’s a whole storm there. Anger. Annoyance. He’s definitely debating firing me. But he’s also stark still, his entire body tight, coiling as far away from Ares as possible .

I note that, technically, Tate never said I could have the time off.

But he also didn’t argue with Ares.

I don’t think many would have the balls.

I feel like I should offer a goodbye to all the other trainers. I’ve known most of them for years. They’ve been the closest thing I’ve had to family for a while. But I don’t want to acknowledge this feeling like I’ll never come here again.

So, I don’t do anything but wave to Garrett as Ares and I head out the door.

“We might need to take a week,” Ares says as he takes the helmet from the bike. I feel his gaze fix on me behind his shades as I take it from him. “A few days might not be enough to get our shit straight to sell this.”

I nod in agreement. “And it’s not an easy sell when no one has seen us together. We’re going to have to work this into our back story.”

Ares nods. I pull the helmet on and climb onto the back of the bike after him.

He points us toward midtown, and just a few minutes later, he pulls into a parking garage. I climb off, and again, he takes my hand as we head back out onto the street level.

I probably shouldn’t like the feel of his hand in mine. But I do. I like its warmth. I like its size. I like the confidence in it. I even like that with the tattoos that cover not just his hand, but every surface of him that I can see, most people are giving us a wide berth.

I’m not sure what that says about me.

“So, do you want to tell me about the connection you have to that place?” Ares asks. I’m not even paying attention to where we’re going. He walks swiftly, confidently, and I just follow.

I swallow once. I know Ares needs to know details. But not every detail of my past is a place I want to go. There are things there I have no desire to relive. “My dad used to own it,” I begin, sifting through what I’m willing to share. “He inherited it from his father once he passed. I was about five when that happened. So, the gym has always, always been a part of my life.”

“I get the feeling your dad was hands on with that operation,” Ares says. He looks over at me, and I feel his intense gaze studying my face. But I can’t look at him right now. Not when I’m falling back through the past.

I nod. “My father was a trainer. A boxer. He was really good, too. Made some money when he was young, before he took over. He loved working with younger boxers. Honestly, he didn’t like running the gym that much. He wasn’t much of a businessman. He was all about teaching. About connecting with young fighters. He started training me when I was about four. He made me think I could take on anyone in the world.”

“I’m pretty sure you could,” Ares says. I finally spare a glance in his direction. He’s still looking at me, and his expression tells me he means it.

“I was good,” I admit. “I won lots of competitions. I definitely leaned more toward the MMA stuff than the boxing. My dad had all my trophies set up in the living room. But I was always small. Being five-four and never being able to bulk up enough limited me. Which was fine. I never had dreams of going pro or anything.”

“What did you want to do?” Ares asks.

I shrug. “It doesn’t sound ambitious enough, but I always just kind of wanted to do what my dad did. Run the gym. Valor Combat Sports was always this great place where people came together. I just thought I’d work there, teach classes, and someday, I’d take over, just like my dad did.”

“What happened?”

I let out a hard, frustrated sigh. “Like I said, my dad wasn’t the best businessman. He never made all that much money because he never charged people enough or he got taken advantage of. My dad died two years ago. When I tried to take charge of the gym like his will said, I found out he was buried beneath quite a bit of debt. Until I paid it off, I couldn’t take over.”

“Tate Kelso undercut you,” Ares states.

I nod. “He’d been a patron at the gym for three years. And he was always trying to talk to my dad about how the place could be better. Their visions weren’t the same. But Tate came from some money, so when he heard what had happened, he paid off the debts, and the gym became his.”

“Damn,” Ares says with the shake of his head. “He snaked it right out from under you.”

I nod. “I lost my mom when I was a teenager. I literally lived at that gym. There’s an apartment above it. I spent the majority of my life there. And then to find out I couldn’t hold on to it? I lost the place my dad loved most at the same time I lost him. Tate even kicked me out of my home. I’ve been living in that shithole you moved me out of ever since.”

“How’d your parents die?” he asks gently as we cross the street with the herd of traffic.

My stomach tightens. I’ve only ever talked to Ophelia about this. I don’t have many other friends. And everyone else I talk to works at the gym, and they all know exactly what happened. Opening these wounds is not something I do. Ever .

“It was a training accident with my dad,” I explain, keeping it simple. “This guy he’d been working with, Steven, accidentally got my dad in the head. It really was an accident, but there were other health issues we couldn’t see. Dad had a stroke. He died on the way to the hospital.”

Ares curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Lana.”

I nod in appreciation. The weight of it all bites at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them well or redden. “My mother was killed in a home invasion. I… I don’t like to talk about it much.”

“You don’t have to,” Ares assures me and squeezes my hand. “Not everyone has to know all the details. That’s all you have to share with me if you want.”

I sniff once, even though no tears have broken through. “Thanks. Sorry you picked such a trauma-rich fake fiancée.” I chuckle through the pain.

And it works. Ares gives a soft laugh as well. “Trust me, Vengeance, you’re not the only one with some heavy shit in this relationship.”

But we don’t get to dive into any more details because just then, I realize we’re on Fifth Avenue, and he pulls a door open for me. With a hand at the small of my back, Ares guides me inside.

I stop in place.

The entire interior is a glittering, sparkling show of opulence.

The floors are polished black marble. The walls are gold, with endless mirrors hanging everywhere. Dozens of crystal chandeliers hang overhead. Even the air smells rich.

There are display cases set up all over the place.

And there are diamonds everywhere .

But surprisingly, considering the never-ending crowds outside, the place is empty, save three waiting employees.

“Welcome to Volga Tsar,” says a woman with black, blunt-cut hair. Despite her words, she wears a judgmental expression. Her eyes scan up and down Ares, ready to call the cops on him. “But I am afraid we are closed for a private event.”

I realize then the life Ares chose when he decided on all those tattoos and piercings.

“I called earlier,” Ares says. He pulls me in closer, his hand wrapping around my waist. With every inch it drops, my heart rate rises.

“Mr. Hunt?” she asks, her tone doubtful and surprised. Her brows disappear into her blunt bangs.

“That would be me,” he answers, a very satisfied smile pulling on the corners of his mouth. “And my gorgeous fiancée, Lana.”

Once more, her eyes look him over before they flick to me, evaluating if we can possibly be the people Ares is saying.

Ares called ahead? And closed this whole place down so just the two of us could have it?

“We’re delighted to help you on this beautiful occasion,” another woman says as she steps forward. She not so subtly hip bumps the other woman out of the way. If I had to guess, I’d say this woman is the supervisor. She screams ass-kisser with that black business dress, perfect blonde hair, and makeup that looks as if it was done by a professional. “My name is Carissa. It was me you spoke to on the phone, Mr. Hunt. How about we get started?”

“That sounds perfect,” he says, giving a very smug glance to the first woman. He places a hand to the small of my back and encourages me forward, following Carissa .

“Have you given much thought as to what cut of diamond you like?” the saleswoman asks as she steps behind the counter. She unlocks one of the displays and pulls out a velvet cushion. Sitting atop it are a dozen massive diamonds.

“Kitten?” Ares encourages when I stare at the jewels with wide, cartoon eyes.

“I…” My mouth opens, but I can’t gather my thoughts enough to form words.

I’ve seen plenty of wedding rings in my life. So many women wear them. There are pictures online. I have a pretty good idea of what a normal ring looks like.

These diamonds are all way, way bigger than “normal.”

“I really don’t know yet,” I say, scrambling to seem like a functional woman who totally expected to be here today. “This all still seems like a dream. I’ve hardly had two seconds to think about it.”

“Aw,” Carissa coos. “Whirlwind romance, huh? But look at you two. If I had a man who looked at me like that, I’d say yes in a heartbeat, too.”

My eyes rip up to Ares. And he offers a smile. The first full one I’ve seen on him yet. And my heart stops.

His teeth are snow white. And perfectly straight. They damn near look fake.

And a smile transforms his entire face.

He looks younger.

He looks less like the vampire he is.

And, despite the fact that I can’t see his eyes, considering he’s still wearing his sunglasses, he does indeed look like a man who is crazy in love.

Yes, yes, yes, my heart screams without thought.

An awkward sounding chuckle comes out of my lips. Do better, Lana, something in the back of my brain says. And so, I lift a hand, caressing the side of his face, and soften the look in my eyes. “It didn’t take much convincing.”

Because no, it really didn’t.

Not to save my best friend.

Not when my fake fiancé looks like this.

Ares covers my hand with his, pulling it across his face until his lips press into my palm with a kiss that scorches my entire body.

Carissa makes a needy noise. “Ugh. I already can’t wait to see your wedding pictures. I have a feeling you’re going to melt the camera with all that heat, though. Come on. I’ll show you some options.”

I’m pretty sure Ares is going to melt my clothes off with the way he’s looking at me. But he just gives a smile, one that touches his eyes. And he wraps a hand around my waist again as we walk down the display case.

Maybe it’s the fact that Ares is a vampire. But he’s watching with focused intensity the entire time I look at ring after ring with Carissa. And he’s largely quiet, other than to say things like, “You like that one, Kitten?” or, “No, bigger.”

“Ares,” I hiss in a low whisper at one point when I see a price tag that is seven figures. “We both know what this is. Don’t waste your money.”

“My last name is Hunt, Vengeance,” he says as he leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. Instantly, goosebumps flash over my entire body. “Trust me, there’s a certain level of expectation that comes with it. Bigger,” he says, raising his volume slightly as Carissa begins to pull out a display. She abruptly puts it back and reaches for another instead.

Round. Square. Marquis. Princess. My head is spinning with the names. I certainly never expected to learn every cut of diamond this week.

I try on dozens of rings. And Ares watches intensely with every one.

But something flutters in my chest when Carissa pulls out one particular set in its own display.

Radiant cut. It looks truly massive. It’s set on a simple band. But it has a double wedding band that accompanies it. Square diamonds encrust the wedding band, a sharp contrast with the simple engagement band.

And it feels like magic when I slide it on, and it fits perfectly.

“Platinum, D-FL five-carat center diamond, one-carat wedding band,” Carissa says, her tone nearly reverent.

I don’t even know what half of those terms meant. But from her tone? I know I don’t want to see the price tag.

“That car outside is for you, Lana.” I look over my shoulder when Ares speaks. There is indeed a black SUV waiting at the curb. “It’s going to take you down the street. They’ve got instructions to help you. I’ll catch up with you in an hour.”

“I thought…” I start, confused.

“We’re all done here, Vengeance,” Ares says, his tone cool and even. But there’s something in his countenance that is confident, and a little mischievous.

I don’t know what the hell is going on. But I take the ring off, laying it on the velvet cushion in front of me. “Thank you for your help, Carissa.”

“It was all my pleasure,” she coos, and she means it. Guess money can buy you anything, even rose-colored glasses for strangers .

I give Ares one last glance, still confused, but I head to the door, which the woman with the blunt hair opens for me.

As soon as I step outside, a man in a suit exits the vehicle. He’s massive and sturdy, like a mountain. His brown hair is buzzed short. His hands are like hams. And the fact that he’s wearing some very, very dark, very good coverage sunglasses tells me he’s likely a vampire. “Miss Lana, I’m Billings.”

I reach out and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Right this way, Miss Lana.” He pulls open the back seat door for me and waits.

A small spike of fear shoots through me. I can handle myself pretty damn well. But Billings is a Goliath and a vampire.

But Ares sent him for me, and I have to trust Ares.

So, I climb into the back seat.

Moments later, we’re rolling down fifth avenue. We drive three blocks, a distance I could have easily walked, before he stops in front of a shop with a name so French sounding, I have no idea how to pronounce it.

Billings exits and opens my door for me once again. “Mrs. Lamont will assist you inside.”

I simply give a nod of thanks and pull the door open.

This place looks nearly as opulent as the jewelry store. Except there are racks of clothing I’m scared to breathe around.

“You must be Lana,” a voice asks as it approaches from the back. A woman steps out, dressed like she’s ready to go to a burlesque opera. Her accent matches the origins of the store.

“I am,” I answer, feeling uncomfortable and completely out of my league. “Are you Mrs. Lamont?”

“I am,” she says with a bob of her head. “Mr. Hunt asked me to help you with your new wardrobe. ”

For a moment, I’m tempted to be offended or judge him. But I have to remind myself what he said at the jewelry store. My last name is Hunt, Vengeance. Trust me, there’s a certain level of expectation that comes with it. Bigger.

“Thank you,” I offer instead. And I notice that, once again, there are no other customers in the store.

Mrs. Lamont guides me back to a private fitting room that is as big as my new closet, and that’s saying something. Wrap-around mirrors take up one end of the room. There’s a platform set up in the center of the room like I’d expect to see in a bridal store. A singular chair sits opposite the mirrors. A rack of clothes is already placed in the room, pre-picked at Ares’ instructions.

One by one, Mrs. Lamont has me begin trying items on. Expertly, she evaluates them on me. And she sorts the items onto two different racks. Keep or discard.

Skirts. Tops. Dresses. Pants. Even shoes of every type imaginable.

I’m smoothing my hands over my hips, looking at myself in the mirror as I wear a silky red dress when the bell at the front door dings. Just three seconds later, I hear the sound of footsteps, and Ares walks in.

He takes in a deep breath through his nose. Even though I can’t see his eyes behind those shades, I feel them on me. Down my hips, over my thighs, before rising back up over every single inch of me.

“Do I make a decent Barbie doll?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I never expected I’d appreciate dress-up play,” he confesses, not a bit of shame in his words. “That one is going in the yes pile, Mrs. Lamont. ”

“Of course, Mr. Hunt,” she says with the dip of her head. “We’re about done here. Just two more things.”

And I don’t know if I’m horrified or thrilled when Ares walks to that lone chair and sinks down into it. He leans back, his legs spread casually, his shoulders taking up the bulk of the seat.

He looks so damn appreciative and smug.

I wish it didn’t send a tingling wave of pleasure and satisfaction up my spine.

“You’re awfully presumptuous,” I call him out as Mrs. Lamont unzips the dress. I refuse to blush as the fabric slips down my body, revealing my black strapless bra. My body heats as it falls past my hips, showing my black underwear. I swallow once as I step free of the silken fabric and look back up to meet Ares’ eyes.

He watches every move I make with rapt attention.

“Why would I still be shy around my fiancée, Vengeance?” he asks, playing stupid.

I flip him my middle finger, unsure how to take it, how unabashed he is. I accept the pants Mrs. Lamont hands me. I step into them, appreciating how perfectly they hug my hips and waist. Next, I pull on the form-fitting red top I’m given.

“You approve?” Mrs. Lamont asks. Not me—Ares.

Ares nods. “She’ll wear that one out. My driver will load everything up. You can charge it all to the card I gave you over the phone.”

“Yes, Mr. Hunt,” she says with a very satisfied smile and a nod. I wonder just how much all this is going to ring up to be.

No. Actually, I really don’t want to know.

“Do I fit the part yet?” I ask as I pull some shoes on, hopping for a moment to keep my balance .

“No one will question you,” Ares says as he watches me walk up to him. I still feel it as he shamelessly scrapes his eyes up the length of me. “You’re just about ready to step into this nightmare, Vengeance.”

He climbs out of his chair and aims for the front door. “Thank you, Mrs. Lamont.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Hunt,” she calls after us.

Outside, I find Ares’ bike parked at the curb, very illegally. Guess when you’re a vampire, you think you can get away with anything.

I just shake my head and climb back onto the bike behind Ares.