3
KYLO
I scented her before I saw her, positioning myself directly in front of the library entrance just as she pushed through the door.
I hadn’t expected my angel to find me today before I could find her.
She was full of surprises. It was one of the things I loved most about her.
She gulped in a startled breath. “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She quickly backed up and wiped the rain off her face.
Rain and… Had she been crying?
Who the fuck had made her cry?
Her wide gray eyes scanned the imposing length of me, stopping when they found mine. I towered over her, eclipsing her with my size. And I enjoyed the way it made her little heart pick up speed, that delicious fear coating her intoxicating blood with every pump.
I wanted the only tears that slid down those rosy cheeks to be shed for me.
“No worries, angel,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time you run into me.”
Confusion was soon replaced by irritation. “I—what?”
So flustered. It was crushingly adorable. I slid into an easy grin. “No jacket?” I nodded at her sodden pastel pink dress, the little bow at her neck all droopy and sad looking. She was soaked.
And not in the way I’d been envisioning.
She stared at me like I was an insane person.
Which was smart of her. Because I was an insane person.
My grin never faltered. “I thought little green witches could predict the rain,” I said, my brows drawing in mock concern.
She crossed her arms. “How do you know I’m a witch? And what makes you think I’m a green witch ?” She lifted her chin, showing she was fiery underneath the most innocent, cute exterior. It made my cock throb.
I shrugged. “Saw you in here earlier, reading about green witchery.” My smile widened. “Just a wild guess…”
Her plump pink lips refused to budge from their skeptical frown. It made me want to bite them into submission.
“You’re strange.”
To my amusement, she simply stepped around me and walked away.
“Thank you, angel.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, her voice farther away now and clearly still flustered.
I took my time turning on my heel, watching her quickly take the steps ahead, never once looking back at me. The way the fabric of her dress clung to her perky breasts and round ass—droplets of water dripping down her legs—was an image I was sure I’d never forget.
Though I was calm and controlled on the outside, my heart pounded hard in my chest after our first encounter. Or at least, the first encounter in which she’d been aware of me.
I’d tried to stay away from her. But the truth was, I was more distracted from my work when I was avoiding her than when I allowed myself to watch her from afar. I called it my new hobby, in an effort to appease Harmony’s demand that I strive toward a better work-life balance.
The trouble was, I didn’t think most people’s hobbies were nearly as consuming as mine. This was dangerous. She was dangerous.
And now that we’d finally met… gods help her pure, ethereal soul. Because I feared the level of insatiable addiction brewing in my cold, dead heart.
I had to drag myself away from her to the other side of the library where my favorite section on war and history lay. I sat in a leather chair as I re-read one of my favorite books on Valentin, the island now ruled by the turned vampire clan leader, Rune.
He was the historical figure I admired above all others. Although, I supposed that made it seem like he was dead. He was still alive and well, ruling the semi-autonomous island of Valentin with his clan after a bloody war centuries ago. The turned and mortal populations had allied to overthrow born leadership, eventually forcing King Earle of Ravenia to give his blessing for a transfer of power from the defeated born to the turned. It was masterful. I couldn’t read enough about Rune or Valentin, soaking up all the wisdom I could glean from history and her crucial lessons.
History never stayed in the past. Great men studied history to gain control of the present and future.
The minutes ticked by. Students came and went, and only a few meandered close to my section.
When I heard the soft padding of approaching footsteps on the burgundy carpet, I didn’t glance up.
“Let me guess,” said a sweet voice tinged with derision.
My nostrils flared, the scent of springtime and innocence nearly too much to bear without ripping through my human glamour and pinning her to the nearest wall.
I lazily glanced up from my book to lock on those stormy gray eyes.
“You’re just another human man who would do anything to ride the dick of Rune the Ruthless and thinks that useless displays of violence are the pinnacle of masculinity.”
I feigned shock. “I did not expect such dirty words to leave that mouth.” With a smirk I rose, once again towering over her. My gaze never once left her lips. “What’s wrong with rugged masculinity, angel? Not to your taste?”
She faltered, and it was the most delicious victory to see pink stain her fair cheeks. Nearly the color of her dress.
“My tastes are none of your concern.”
I pouted my lip mockingly. “I disagree.”
She glanced at the book I’d left face-up on my chair. “We’re not on some faraway, secluded island. You’re all buying into delusions and fairy tales.”
My angel was so fucking cute, waving those dainty hands around as she spoke. It was taking all of my self-restraint not to touch her, to resist finally feeling those silky strands of light blonde hair beneath my fingers.
“What’s wrong with fairy tales, princess?”
At this, she scoffed, crossing her arms as if I’d called her something vile.
“I’m getting the sense that this unprovoked harassment has little to do with me,” I said, biting on a smile.
I caught the momentary lapse in her irritation, revealing the truth. Whoever made her cry had set her off about the bad, scary vampires. How interesting.
What I found infinitely more interesting was how she’d come and found me, a perfect stranger, to use as her punching bag. From my weeks of watching her, she hardly seemed like a people-person. Certainly not one to take an interest in strangers.
Maybe she was just as drawn to me as I was to her. It was another maddening thought, a hope that was nearly human.
And that lingering shred of mortality had me walking off without even a glance over my shoulder, leaving her standing there all confused, angry, stunned, and alone. Maybe she was stomping her little feet in those beat-up sneakers.
It was, unfortunately, a rather sexy mental image.
Nothing was more satisfying than a midnight hunt. It was nostalgic, reminding me of when I was merely human, hunting the vampires on campus who prowled for easy prey. It had been a far more dangerous pastime back then. I almost missed the perilousness, the threat of death pushing against me from all directions. It made each kill vastly more satisfying, knowing it could’ve so easily ended in my demise.
Now, I was more powerful than every lowlife born on my path.
I turned the chase into an art form, picking my prey meticulously before I stalked and toyed with them. I relished their confusion, so sweet on my hungry tongue.
Each turned clan was different. We were not a distinct race; we were monsters born of magick and blood. The chaos witch who created my comrades and me had built us with a very unique signature.
The Masked Order might’ve preferred mortal blood like any other vampire.
But we could also feed from the born, effectively giving them a taste of their own medicine. And gods, did they fucking hate that.
I grinned.
My prey turned a corner into a dark, quiet alley, following an unsuspecting human woman. Entirely unaware that I was closing in on him.
The woman was clearly intoxicated. I could smell both alcohol and elixir in her veins. Not the wisest choice to pair with walking home alone late at night.
I hated that mortals had to be careful at all.
My dark tattoos tickled my skin, slightly burning. Magick awakened in my blood as my shadows gathered.
One day, mortals would be able to walk these streets as they pleased without fear of born cruelty. One day, I’d be able to bear my tattoos and fangs before the world, free from that accursed, uncomfortable human glamour that stuck to my skin like a film.
The born had no idea the reckoning slowly building against them and their incompetent rule. Their arrogance would spell their downfall.
Tonight, I had no need for my glamour. My mask was in place, a fluid film of shadow that covered most of my head, moving diagonally to leave my mouth and one side of my face partially exposed. I generally let it take a frightening onyx skull appearance.
The woman screamed, but she was quickly silenced to a muffled groan of protest.
“Shh,” the man hissed. “Be a good little human whore and take it. You knew exactly what you were doing walking around alone dressed like this. Don’t start playing coy now.”
My lip curled, my tattoos scalding now, demanding a release of power. In a rush of shadow, I was behind the born scumbag before he could even react. His hand was over the brunette’s mouth, his body pressed against hers as he flashed his fangs. I yanked him off her with ease, throwing him against the opposite building. His skull hit the dark stone with a resounding crack.
I whistled, alerting Harmony to the human woman in need of help. Meanwhile, I allowed my hungry shadows to wrap around the born man like hissing snakes. They coiled and coiled, restraining him as he flailed futilely. He conjured fire magick that was quickly extinguished by my void of onyx.
His venomous green eyes bulged as my shadows tightened around his form. His stringy auburn hair clung to his forehead.
“Abomination!” he screeched. “Lillian will scourge the earth of you blasphemous vermin.”
A tendril of shadow wrapped around his mouth, gagging him.
I casually glanced over my shoulder, ensuring that Harmony had arrived. Even with her mask, she appeared bright and non-threatening, her smile warm and genuine. Her mask only covered the top half of her face, and it was considerably less frightening than mine. Her long black hair cascaded to her shoulders in loose curls. Her light brown skin was warm-toned in the moonlight, and the bright yellow dress cloaking her figure perfectly matched her personality.
She was a living embodiment of the sun itself. We stood in stark contrast.
“Hi, honey,” she said sweetly. “Let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?”
The woman was shaking, her teeth clattering violently. Her trembling palms pulled at the short skirt of her satin dress. At first, I feared she might not trust us enough to be escorted home.
But, like most everyone else, she decided Harmony was too genuine to resist—fangs and all. She avoided looking in my direction and let Harmony lead her away.
Now that she was out of eyesight, I slowly turned back to the panicking, hissing born man. I laughed at the cold shards of hatred in his eyes.
I stalked toward him. “Would you like to know how it feels? To fear death, to be trapped and helpless, your life force slowly drained from your veins…”
He let out a muffled growl against the shadow gag.
“I didn’t quite hear you, but I’m going to assume you said yes. Why else would you be walking these streets all alone?” My eyes darkened, wrath building beneath my skin. I pushed his head to the side. “Be quiet and take it.”
I ripped into his jugular. My jaw clamped down and fangs ripped through skin and muscle, with little concern for whether I might accidentally remove his head from his body.
I tasted defenseless humans in his blood, evidence of his long list of crimes.
As I fed, my power grew ever stronger.
Soon, these streets would be full of patrolling turned to keep the born in line. This low-level vigilante justice was nothing compared to what I had planned.
First, we’d take Etherdale.
Next, the turned would take this whole damned realm.