Chapter 13
Chapter
Thirteen
Elliot
I’m not alone.
If I was still human, I’d be picking up the nearest weapon and getting ready to fight. If I was still human, I’d be hiding, running, calling the cops.
Whoever’s here in my old apartment isn’t human. I don’t smell sweat, excitement, anger, or any other thing that humans give off.
It’s not Lucy. I know when he’s near. Always have, even before I was turned. It’s not Andrew. The young-looking vampire is waiting for me in the hallway, wanting to give me some privacy at least.
It’s someone else.
I head into my bedroom.
There, stretched out on the bed. Santiago. Arms tucked behind his head, eyes closed, too relaxed, too at home. As though breaking into my space after trying to burn me alive is just another Tuesday evening for him.
Maybe it is.
My vision goes red. The urge to tear into him, to feel bone give way and blood spill, hits fast and vicious. Every part of me wants to end him where he lies, to repay fire with fangs and force.
But that’s exactly what he wants.
I could yell, call for Andrew, but that would most likely turn into a blood bath, one I don’t think Andrew would be able to walk out alive from.
As I step in, Santiago’s eyes snap open, and he smiles that feline-like smile.
I don’t return it. Instead, I cross the room, grab my wheeled suitcase from the closet and drag it out, dumping it onto the bed, dangerously close to his ribs.
I let him see the restraint. Let him think I’m choosing calm.
Because with Santiago, brute force won’t win. He’s like Lucian in that way. He’s smart, patient, meticulous. He plans five moves ahead and waits for you to self-destruct on the first.
So I swallow the violence clawing at my throat and do the one thing he won’t expect.
I play the game and ignore him.
I move to my dresser and take the few picture frames I have with me and Kayla, some jewelry and clothes.
Most of my things are ragged and old compared to the expensive things Lucian has provided for me.
Even the dress I’m wearing has to be worth a fortune, tattered and caked with mud and God knows what from the sewer.
But my things remind me of my old life, of my time with Kayla, before VMR consumed our lives, and it’s nice to have something to remember her by now that she’s gone.
If only I could’ve had some alone time here, like I had wanted. But no, a vampire’s here to ruin it all.
I throw open the luggage’s lid and hit his leg with it. I wish it was his nuts.
And then I start packing.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” Santiago asks me with a cocked brow.
A small thrill of intrigue ripples in my blood but I shake my head. “Are you going to ask how I’m still alive and not burnt to a crisp?”
“No need,” he says. “You’re smart. I knew you’d figure out a way to escape.”
I don’t know whether the fact that he doesn’t even deny his involvement in it is refreshing or infuriating. Maybe both.
“And I know Lucian is too stubborn to die,” he continues.
“All you’ve done is piss him off,” I say. “Not the wisest move.”
He shrugs. “My brother needs some excitement in his life, don’t you think? That is why he changed you, after all. For some…excitement.”
I’m about to snap He’s not your brother but I refrain. That’s just Lucian talking through me.
Keeping my face blank, I dump panties into the case.
He sits up and hooks a pair with a finger. “Cotton? Doesn’t he buy you silk?”
Lucian does. Silk, satin, lace. But I’m not going to tell him that.
I dump T-shirts in next. He sighs as he pokes his finger in a hole in one of them.
“What do you want, Santiago?”
“I saw how he had you naked, tied up, and suspended.” He slides closer, wrapping a hand around the back of my thigh.
It feels so wrong.
I shove him away. “What Lucian and I do privately isn’t your business.”
“Still…” He stands, smoothing my hair from my face. “Just because he created you doesn’t mean you have to stay with him.”
“I’m aware.”
He moves around me, and I freeze in place. Santiago might be handsome, the visual opposite of Lucian, but I’m suddenly finding him as attractive as a gnat. When he tries to press his face into my hair, I swat at him, catching his cheek with my nails.
He laughs. “And yet you’re packing your old life away to go be with him.”
“Where else should I go?”
“With me.” He smiles. “I lust for your…talents.”
“You don’t know me.”
“And we have lifetimes. No matter what Lucian thinks, he doesn’t own this city and he doesn’t own you. I plan on making both of those things very clear.”
“You tried to kill me!”
“Not you.” He steps closer. “It would’ve made things easier if Lucian weren’t in the picture anymore, but he’ll be dealt with soon enough.”
Something ugly and incandescent surges through me.
The idea of Lucian dead by Santiago’s hand surges hotter than the fire ever did. My fingers curl, nails biting into my palms, a feral need to protect roaring up so fast it steals my breath. It shocks me how immediate it is. How instinctive.
I force myself to breathe. To slow it down. Rage won’t help me here.
I school my face, swallow the violence, and remind myself that I can use him, and to do that I can’t afford to lose control.
Kayla would hate this version of me. The sharp edges. The convincing nature. The way I’m already learning how to lie without flinching.
“You and I both know Lucian can’t satisfy the hunger coursing through you. The thirst for more,” he says. “I can give it all to you. I’d never hold you back.”
With his gaze never leaving mine, his hand slips into the open luggage and pushes aside clothes. Then he draws out one of the framed photos of me and Kayla and holds it between us.
“Who is she?”
I shove past him, out into the small living space.
It’s a mistake.
Santiago follows and pins me against the back of the couch with his body.
“Leave me alone, Santiago.”
“Wish that I could.” He pauses, leans in. “Who’s the girl?”
“My friend,” I say and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s dead.”
His eyes seem to glow in the dim light of the room, like a gloat, like he knows something.
“Are you sure, Elliot?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I counter. “She went to work at VMR and they killed her.”
He lifts a brow. “And you don’t even care?”
“Of course I do.” My stomach claws at itself. I take a breath and face a horrible truth. “There’s just nothing I can do about it now.”
When he slides a finger down between my breasts, I push at him, but he doesn’t move.
“Oh?” he asks with a chuckle as I knock his hand away. “And you’re sure she’s dead?”
Santiago’s question takes me off guard.
“Yes. No. I-I don’t know…”
His sly smile turns into a wolfish grin. “You trust that Lucian is telling you the truth?”
No, my mind yells. Lucian hasn’t given me any reason to trust him. All he’s done since I’ve met him is dance around the truth, doing everything to never touch it unless cornered by me.
Now that I think about it, the only thing he’s probably ever confessed to was his being a vampire. And that took him long enough.
Finally, Santiago steps back, putting some space between us. “Has Lucian ever told you how he came to meet his little human girlfriend, Penelope? Or should I say Nell?”
I think back to the picture of a young Nell sitting on the beach, smiling in the sunshine.
“No.” I shake my head. I don’t want this. I don’t want to hear the story of how my sort-of boyfriend, my vampire master, loved another woman. I turn toward the bedroom, intent on grabbing my luggage and ending this conversation.
But Santiago’s voice stops me cold.
“I’m not surprised,” he says mildly. “Lucian is very good at keeping the truth close to his vest. I don’t think he even told Nell the full story.”
I turn back slowly. “What do you know?”
His smile thins. “Lucian wasn’t always the neat, precise killer you know. That came later. It took practice. Discipline.”
He steps closer, eyes never leaving mine.
“One night, he made a mistake. Sloppy. Emotional. An innocent couple—walking home from a movie. Wrong place, wrong time.” Santiago shrugs.
“It happens. But when he searched the man’s pockets, in his wallet Lucian found a house key and a picture of a child.
And inside that house…” He pauses, watching me.
“There was a young girl waiting for parents who were never coming home.”
My stomach tightens.
“Guilt did something strange to Lucian that night,” Santiago continues. “Instead of moving on like he usually did, he lingered. He watched her. Made sure she was taken care of. Money appeared from nowhere. Doors opened. People looked the other way.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“He told himself it was kindness,” Santiago cuts in smoothly.
“Even when those around him warned him that what he was doing was foolish, dangerous. But he didn’t stop watching.
When she grew into a woman, he finally stepped out of the shadows.
Inserted himself into her life. A guardian angel who never aged and she never knew he was the reason her life had been turned upside down years ago. ”
My pulse starts to thrum in my ears.
“His guilt turned into fixation,” he says quietly. “He didn’t fall in love with Nell—he formed her. Shaped the world around her until she fit the space he’d already carved out for himself.”
“That’s not true,” I say sharply. “Lucian loved—”
But the words falter.
Because I think of the way Lucian used to mesmerize me when I was human to make me second guess myself. How he plans around me. Anticipates my needs before I voice them. The way my life has been quietly, efficiently rearranged since the moment he stepped into it.
Santiago sees the hesitation. He leans into it.