Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Blackwell
The Obsidian Circle.
They’re always on our radar, yet we don’t interfere in their actions. We’ve only done it once before, this new case being our second. The last time sent me off the rails. While I love all the aspects of death, inflicting pain, and listening to my victims’ pleading cries, I do have a limit.
Children.
You never kill a child. No matter how much of a spoiled pain in the ass they are. And you especially don’t mess with one of our members’ kids. The Obsidian Circle made that error. They took our brother Malcolm’s son; the last one he had before transitioning into a vampire. The stupid fuckers mistook him for being an immortal vamp and thought they’d make millions off of his blood. They killed Malcolm’s boy, and it set us on a rampage, until finally a truce was called when the witch’s council stepped in. Our war brought us close to exposing our kind to the mortal world. We agreed to the truce, but only if Malcolm was able to have justice. A life for a life.
So while we ended the battle, we lurked in the shadows, watching, knowing we’d be facing them again one day. I just didn’t expect it would be today. Each shady deal they make in the underground market, we’re there making sure they don’t make a repeat mistake.
A unicorn is a prized find for them, one that will set them up for years to come. Yet, they’ve kept their acquisition of him quiet. Barely a word has been uttered.
Something is bothering me as we stand, hidden in the shadows of the surrounding buildings in the old warehouse district. The Obsidian Circle are cocky bastards and aren’t worried about anyone walking onto their property, due to their magic wards. An error on their part. If you’re going to use witches, make sure they’re trustworthy ones. We have each and every spell used to secure the building that our victim is held within.
“Warrick, you said it was his sister that came to you about his kidnapping?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Just curious. They’re siblings, and unicorns are rare. Why didn’t they take both?”
Warrick’s eyes go wide at my question, his lips pressed together tightly. He didn’t think about it when she came to him, and my chest puffs with pride that I caught a detail he missed. Fuckers think I’m deranged, yet I pay attention.
“Good question. I’m going to have to ask her that. My only guess is she isn’t pure. If that’s the case, we’re going to have to talk to her about her payment.” He pulls out his phone and shoots off a quick message. No doubt having the blood tested for purity. If it’s not, then it looks like our poor little captive will be paying his sister's debt and more. “It’s being checked.”
We made our plan earlier in the day. We’ve watched the Obsidian Circle and this building long enough that we knew its weak spots—the basement’s old access tunnel that hadn’t been sealed up properly, the narrow alley at the back, the skylights on the rooftop, barely visible from the street. We knew every detail of how we’d get in undetected. There was just one unknown—the unicorn’s location. There were two possibilities from the intel we gathered that had the highest probability: a small office that had been converted into a makeshift prison on the top floor, or the utility room in the basement. Each was free of windows and had the best ability to contain a prisoner and keep them away from prying eyes.
As I gaze upon the structure, I think about the prisoners inside. Every minute wasted could mean another hour of torment for them. It eats at my nerves. Why do I care whether they suffer or not? They are no one to me but a chance to take a shot at my enemy, The Obsidian Circle.
I glance at my team—my trusted comrades, the ones who understand that failure isn’t an option. We exchange silent nods before splitting into our respective positions. Our mission is clear: get in, get the hostage, and get out.
“Okay, it’s time. Let’s get in place.”
The alley is empty. Silent. The perfect cover. Once we remove the protective wards, we move swiftly, almost ghostlike, avoiding the few guards on the main street. The Obsidian Circle is a bunch of self righteous assholes who thought no one would dare to go against them. It’s their one flaw, but a check in our favor. The limited security offers us a better chance to complete our goal. The teams split into two—one to cover the outside perimeter, the other to handle the building’s interior. I lead the way through the alley followed by Warrick to the service door, a rusted steel thing, heavy but quiet. My fingers work quickly over the keypad, entering a series of numbers that will override the code currently in place.
Once the door is open, we step inside the building, and I can’t help but scrunch my nose in distaste at the stench that reeks from inside. There is no one in sight and no noise other than the faint hum of electricity, and the occasional buzz of a light fixture flickering above us. We move through the service corridors, avoiding cameras by sticking to the shadows, always listening for the sound of footsteps.
We keep moving stealthily until we reach the stairwell. There, our small group breaks in two. Warrick, Cheshire, and a prospect head to the utility room while myself and Anton head upstairs.
As we near the top floor, I peek out the door down the dark hallway and I see the office, guarded by two men. They would only be there if there was something or someone to protect. Now I know I’m headed to where the unicorn is being held.
I know we can’t risk alerting them to our presence, so our movements have to be swift. Good thing I’m a vampire, even if Anton isn’t yet.
“I’ve got the one on the right. Once I have him, you take the other. When they're down, you keep guard and I’ll get inside and rescue the mark,” I whisper, and Anton nods in understanding.
I take off swiftly as soon as their heads are turned, keeping to the shadows as I hastily creep up behind my man. The soft padding of my boots barely makes a sound on the worn carpet as I move. Anton doesn’t stay hidden in the stairwell long, moving behind me, but at a slower pace.
When I'm within reach of the guard, I wrap my arm around his neck in a swift, practiced motion, tightening with a quick twist, breaking his neck. I drop his lifeless body to the floor in a crumpled mess as Anton engages with the other guard. I pause for a moment to help him, but see he has it under control.
Bending down, I remove the keys from the corpse's belt loop and open the door, stepping inside the cold, dank room. I scan the disgusting room, my stomach churning at the putrid smell until my eyes land on the broken heap in the corner, curled up into himself under a holey threadbare blanket. He hasn’t even moved, staring in my direction. It’s as if he’s already dead, but I can hear the faint thudding of his heart.
I move across the room, dropping to the floor beside him, my nose crinkling in disdain as my knee lands in something mushy and wet. I don’t even want to fathom what it is. I want to move, to get away from whatever is soiling me, but this isn’t the time for comfort, only made evident by the pigsty this man has been forced to live in.
“Varys.” I take hold of his shoulder, gently shaking him. “I’m here to get you out of this hellhole.”
He shrugs his shoulder, most likely using every ounce of energy he has to pull away from me. “Go away. I called for her to help, and she left. She did nothing. I’d give her anything.” His voice is so weak and he’s speaking nonsense, but even the broken rasp of it stirs something unfamiliar in me.
“Your sister sent us. Now, we need to get your ass out of here before they catch wind of our presence.”
“Not her. Just let me die,” he mumbles as he curls more into himself.
What does he mean, not her? Who else would be stupid enough to come to us for help, especially knowing that at some point we may question if she’s truly what she claims to be? But there’s no time to dwell on that. We need to get the fuck out of here. I pull out my phone and send Warrick a quick message, letting him know I have our prize.
“Okay, unicorn, you’re either going to get up on your own two feet and let me help you out of here, or your ass better be shifting into a sparkly horned horse so I can ride you out of here as I kill anyone who tries to stop us. The choice is yours.”
He just grunts and it looks like we’re doing this the hard and less fun and flashy way. Sadly. I was looking forward to riding a unicorn, having him lower his head and ram his horn up some Obsidian bitch’s ass.
This poor dude has lost it. I let out a groan, knowing he’s not going to be any help getting out of this building and that I’m going to have to practically drag him out of here. So much for a quick in-and-out operation.
I grip him under his armpits and stand, pulling him with me until he’s standing on both feet, but the mass of his weight is on me. Based on his build, I imagine he was larger, but his time here has emaciated him, turning him into this weakened form.
As I step out into the hallway, I see Anton pulling the last of the two guards into the room across the hallway, wedging the door, keeping them locked inside.
I hear a noise and turn to look, needing to know if there was someone hiding in wait, ready to jump me from behind. My eyes go wide at the vision before me. Standing in the room, in the very spot that Varys was just lying, is the most exotic, beautiful, creepy looking woman I’ve ever seen. She’s wearing a long black cloak with the hood pulled over her head. Strands of white hair hang freely around her shoulders, and her skin is just as pale as her hair. The only thing considered color found on her is the dark makeup around her eyes and on her lips. Her cold black eyes stare back at me.
I’m in awe, love, lust, whatever you want to call it, but something about her is a siren to my dead heart. I glance back at Varys. Even filthy and weak, there’s something also captivating about him.
“Do you want me to take him?” Anton’s voice pulls my attention from her for a moment and when I look back, she’s gone. What the fuck. Now I’m seeing shit.
“No, I got him. Just stay focused and let’s get the hell out of here, back to some pussy at the clubhouse.”
“Hell yeah.” Anton lets out in a whispered hoot, knowing anything louder could expose us to the Obsidian guards. Ones the organization really needs to take a closer look at if we were able to break inside without a fuss.
We retrace our steps, moving swiftly down the hallway toward the stairwell. I glance at Varys slumped against me, and for a moment, I’m struck by the peculiar beauty in his defiance—even now, injured and groaning, he holds a kind of dark allure. I shake off the thought and look longingly at the elevator as we pass it, desire creeping through me, wishing we could use it. It would save time and energy, but it would leave us vulnerable and place us on their radar. We make sure to keep to the walls, avoiding any cameras and stopping at each floor as we descend the stairs, ensuring no patrols have caught on to our presence.
We reach the bottom of the stairwell—then we hear it, the sound of distant voices.
Both Anton and I swear under our breath. Guess our luck has run out and they've figured out we’re inside. They wouldn’t need to be rocket scientists to know what we broke into this shithole.
We have nowhere to go but forward, toward the voices. Going up only leads us to a dead end with no way to escape.
“Just leave me. Let me die,” Varys groans as his body goes limp. “I’m dead weight and my life means nothing.”
That’s where he’s wrong. It does mean something; whether it’s good or bad, that's the question. Being supernatural is one thing, but being a long thought extinct creature is another. Once word of his existence makes it to the black market, he’ll be chased until he’s captured.
His breath fans against my neck, and I feel a pang of something unfamiliar—protectiveness, maybe, but it carries heat. I grit my teeth and shove it aside.
The voices get closer, and when I look in front of me, I see at least ten armed guards rushing toward us.
“Looks like we get to fight.” I can’t help but bounce back and forth on the balls of my feet with giddy excitement, jostling a very injured Varys, who lets out a screech of pain. “Sorry,” I mumble.
Just as I begin to formulate a plan of what to do with Varys while I tear my fangs through these cocksuckers, gunfire rings out behind them.
Warrick! It’s the only logical conclusion. Time to have some fun. I hand Varys over to Anton and take off, using my enhanced speed to become a blur to those with mortal vision. I grab hold of the first body I get to and spin him around, pulling his back close to my chest and his head to the side as I expose my fangs, flipping them out like a switchblade. An evil laugh explodes from me as I sink my teeth in, sucking his blood from his body. The coppery taste overwhelms me, sending me into a euphoric high only comparable to one you’d experience with sex.
Only when I’ve drunk more than I should, enough to leave him dying, do I snap his neck and drop him to the floor, quickly grasping the next victim, and doing the same.
The gunfire stops and all that’s left is the sound of imminent death as Warrick joins me in draining the last two men of the Obsidian Circle left standing in the hallway.
“Took you long enough,” I comment as I drop the corpse to the floor, stepping over him to head to Anton. I swear I see the same woman standing behind him and Varys, and then just like before, she disappears before my eyes. What the fuck? Is there somekind of gas leak in this fucking place? I take Varys back in my arms and turn back towards Warrick. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before this place fucks with my mind any more.”
We manage to make it out of the building into the alleyway where our getaway van is waiting. The men climb into the back and I hand the unicorn up to them before moving around the side of the van, climbing into the passenger seat. I lean out the window, taking one final look back at the building.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Warrick asks from the driver’s seat as he shifts into gear and takes off. He’s ready to put as much distance between us and the building as he can. As soon as the Obsidian Circle knows we took their cash cow, they’ll be planning their next move on us.
I hesitate for a second, replaying the ghostly image of the sexy woman in my head—or was it the weight of Varys’ body against mine that lingers longer? I scoff. “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” I snap back. “You’re driving like you just stole something.”
Warrick arches a brow, glancing sideways at me. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re deflecting. You’ve been twitchier than usual. What gives?”
“I’m just allergic to this shitty part of town. Call it an instinct for self-preservation.” I wave him off, but my fingers tighten on my thigh as I glance out the window.
Warrick doesn’t push further.
Just like the van, the city is eerily silent as the building fades into the distance. Varys’ breathing is shallow, but he’s alive. We’ll need to get him medically checked over when we get back to the clubhouse.
While we rescued him, and he’s safe, we did it at a grave cost—war looms in the future for us and I, for one, am ready to meet it head on.