3. Asher/ Gael
CHAPTER THREE
ASHER/ GAEL
ASHER
Why am I following this vampire?
The thought seared through my mind as my boots hit the pavement in rhythm with Gael’s ahead of me.
The vampire moved with the kind of speed and grace that no human could match.
I could still hear the hunters behind us, their shouts ricocheting off the narrow alleyways.
Their footsteps thundered behind us. Declan’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding, spurring them on.
Damn it.
I should turn back. I should explain myself to Declan and the others. I’d trained some of them.
I knew their tells, their weaknesses, their strengths.
And now I could only imagine the look of horror and betrayal etched into their faces as they watched me running with Gael. A vampire. Was this how Finn felt?
The memory hit me like a sucker punch. Finn standing in that convenience store, looking hurt as I demanded he return to the Guild with me.
Now I was the one being hunted, my motives questioned. Gael veered sharply into another alley, and I followed without hesitation.
My lungs burned from exertion, the cool night air doing nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.
We burst out onto another street, bathed in the faint orange glow of a streetlamp. The hunters were relentless.
Their shouts grew louder as they closed the distance, their boots striking the pavement in a rhythm that felt too close for comfort.
Gael ran ahead, his broad back a perfect, unprotected target. I could end this right now.
The knife tucked into my belt practically called to me. Eliminating the threat would be easy. Gael was a threat. He always had been.
If I brought him down here, Declan and the others would see his lifeless body, proof that I was still one of them.
That I hadn’t lost my edge or my loyalty. But...
My hand hesitated, hovering near the knife’s hilt. Stabbing someone in the back felt wrong. Dishonorable.
And then there was Gael himself.
Why had he saved me?
The memory of him shoving me behind the dumpster just as the bullets started flying refused to fade.
He could have left me to fend for myself. It would have been easier for him, and frankly, smarter. But he hadn’t.
What kind of monster does that?
I didn’t have time to untangle the mess of thoughts clawing at my mind.
Gael suddenly skidded to a halt, his head snapping to the side as he scanned the street.
“Move!” he hissed, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward a narrow passage between two buildings.
His grip was strong but not crushing, his hand cool against my skin. I jerked away on instinct, but I still followed him.
“Do you even have a plan?” I snapped as we ducked into the passage, the darkness swallowing us whole.
“Plans are overrated,” he shot back, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness.
“Great. That’s comforting,” I retorted.
We emerged in a small courtyard, the distant hum of traffic the only sound besides my ragged breathing.
Gael’s gaze darted around, sharp and calculating.
“They’re splitting up,” he murmured, almost to himself.
I didn’t need to hear the hunters to know he was right. They’d fan out, cover more ground, and box us in. Us.
When did this become an “us” situation?
Gael turned to me, his eyes gleaming even in the dim light. “We need to keep moving.”
“You mean you need to keep moving,” I corrected, folding my arms. “This is your mess. You’re the one they’re after.”
His smirk returned, maddening and somehow...compelling.
“Is that what you think, Hunter? That they won’t put a bullet in you for consorting with the enemy?” Gael taunted.
I opened my mouth to retort but closed it just as fast. He wasn’t wrong. And that realization only made my anger burn hotter.
“This is your fault,” I snapped, stepping closer. “If you hadn’t?—”
“If I hadn’t what? Saved your life?” he interrupted, his tone mockingly sweet.
I hated the way my stomach twisted at his words.
“Let me guess,” he continued, circling me like a predator toying with its prey. “You’re wondering why I didn’t let them take you out. Why I didn’t finish the job myself.”
I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. “I don’t care what your reasons are.”
“Liar,” he said softly, his smirk fading.
For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. Something almost human. Before I could respond, the sound of footsteps shattered the moment.
“Over here!” a voice called, too close for comfort.
Gael cursed, grabbing my arm again. “Time to go, hunter.”
I didn’t resist this time.
We sprinted through the courtyard, weaving between parked cars and dumpsters, the hunters’ voices growing louder behind us.
My body moved on autopilot, adrenaline drowning out everything else.
At one point, Gael grabbed a metal trash can and hurled it into the path of our pursuers, the loud crash momentarily slowing them down.
We rounded a corner, and I spotted a fire escape ladder hanging just within reach.
“There!” I pointed, and Gael nodded, already leaping up to grab it.
I followed, the cold metal biting into my hands as we climbed. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear the shouts below.
We reached the roof, and I collapsed onto the gravel, gasping for air. Gael stood at the edge, peering down at the street below.
“They’re regrouping,” he said, his tone grim. “We’ve got maybe two minutes.”
“Perfect,” I muttered, dragging myself to my feet.
My gaze lingered on him longer than it should have. His expression was focused, determined, but there was something else there too.
Something I couldn’t place.
Why did he hesitate earlier? Why did he save me? And why the hell did I care?
“Ready for round two?” he asked, turning to face me.
His smirk was back, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I replied, forcing my voice to stay steady.
Gael nodded, and for a brief moment, we stood there, side by side, two enemies forced into an uneasy alliance.
The hunters wouldn’t stop until one of us was dead. No. Until both of us were dead.
One look at Declan’s face told me he was the kind of guy who wouldn’t listen to reason. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
For now, Gael and I were temporary allies. But once this chase was over, we’d finally settle our grudge.
GAEL
The warehouse loomed ahead, an answer to our prayers.
Its corrugated metal walls were rusted, and its windows broken in places. Hardly inviting, but it would do.
“There,” I said, gesturing toward it.
My voice was low, clipped, though I knew Asher heard me clearly.
Hunters had exceptional hearing, especially when they were bristling with suspicion.
“We’ll hide there until they pass,” I added.
Asher hesitated. His stormy glare shifted from me to the warehouse, his fingers flexing near the hilt of his knife.
“I don’t trust you,” Asher stated.
Unable to help myself, I rolled my eyes.
“No kidding.” I started toward the building without waiting for his agreement.
If he wanted to keep chasing me down with his moral superiority and that maddening scent of righteous fury, he’d have to keep up.
The air between us was electric with animosity as he followed. Every step crackled with unspoken tension.
I told myself it was just the adrenaline, but deep down, I knew better.
Something about him unsettled me in a way no other hunter ever had. Inside, the warehouse smelled of oil and decay.
Moonlight streamed through gaps in the roof, casting faint beams onto abandoned machinery and crates.
I motioned for Asher to follow me deeper into the shadows. The farther we stayed from the entrances, the better our chances.
“You realize this is probably a trap,” he muttered as he scanned the area, knife in hand.
“You’re welcome to head back to your friends and let them shoot you,” I replied, keeping my tone light and sardonic.
It was easier to needle him than to acknowledge the way my gaze lingered on the curve of his jaw, the way his lips pressed together when he was angry.
Damn it. Why did he have to be so irritatingly alive?
“Don’t get too comfortable. Remember, this truce is temporary,” Asher snapped, his voice laced with venom.
“I saved your life back there, remember? Or do you prefer your friends’ bullets?” I reminded him.
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating.
We found a spot behind a stack of crates, partially concealed by shadows.
Asher sat against one, his knife still in his hand, while I leaned against a rusted column.
“How long do we wait?” he asked, his voice low.
“As long as it takes,” I said.
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
I smirked. “It’s the only one you’re getting.”
The way he glared at me, with equal parts frustration and grudging acknowledgment, made something twist inside me.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed baiting him this much.
I shouldn’t have been watching the way the faint moonlight caught the strands of his dark hair.
Focus, Gael. He’s not your ally, and he’s definitely not yours.
When Asher stepped away to check the perimeter, the air shifted. A faint, familiar presence tingled at the edge of my awareness. Bram.
I barely had time to react before he emerged from the shadows, his pale face illuminated by the faint moonlight.
His cold gaze raked over me, and a cruel smile tugged at his lips.
"Gael," Bram drawled. "Coincidence meeting you here."
Coincidence? I highly doubted it.
Ever since I failed to bring Gabriel back, my sire had lost faith in me, and it rankled.
After all the decades I’d served Beric faithfully, I deserved at least a shred of trust.
I didn’t need a babysitter shadowing my every move, especially not Bram.
Beric’s longest-serving enforcer and I had never seen eye to eye, not even through the years we’d fought side by side.
Strangely, Bram had gotten along better with Gabriel when he was still part of the nest. The thought soured my mood further.
“Bram,” I said, keeping my voice calm despite the irritation flaring in my chest. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you really surprised to see me?” he asked, his tone laced with condescension.
“Beric and I have every right to be concerned. You’ve been sloppy, distracted. And now you’re holed up in a warehouse with a hunter?” Bram sneered, the disgust in his voice unmistakable.
I stiffened but forced my expression to remain neutral.
“I’m using Asher to track Gabriel,” I replied evenly. “I haven’t forgotten my task.”
Bram’s lips curled into a mocking smile, his fangs glinting.
“Careful, Gael. You’ve already failed our sire once. Fail him a second time…”
Bram let the threat dangle, heavy and unspoken, but its meaning was clear.
“Stay out of my way, Bram,” I snapped, my irritation breaking through.
His hand shot out, gripping my arm with bruising strength.
“Watch yourself, Gael. I’d hate to report back that you’ve lost your way, just like Gabriel did.”
How dare he compare me to Gabriel? Fury surged through me as I jerked my arm free, baring my fangs in warning.
“Go ahead,” I snarled. “Run back to Beric and tell him I’m doing exactly what I was ordered to do. See how that plays out for you.”
Bram’s eyes narrowed, the tension between us thickening.
For a moment, I thought he might strike, but then he took a calculated step back, his smile returning, a predator savoring its advantage.
“Don’t make Gabriel’s mistake, Gael,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “You wouldn’t want to end up on the wrong side of my fangs.”
He vanished as quickly as he’d appeared, leaving me seething.
Asher returned moments later, his brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I lied, avoiding his gaze.
The last thing I needed was for him to pick up on my tension.
He frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he settled back against the crates, his knife resting in his lap.
The silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t as suffocating as before.
It was tense, yes, but there was something else there too, something I couldn’t name. Asher’s breathing was steady, his expression guarded but not hostile.
I couldn’t help but watch him again, my gaze lingering on the faint scar etched on his temple.
My eyes trailed to the way his fingers absently caressed the hilt of his blade, strong, precise, and strangely captivating.
And then there was his throat, smooth and inviting, the curve so maddeningly tempting.
I wondered how he’d taste, warm and rich, his pulse thrumming just beneath my lips.
He glanced at me suddenly, and our eyes met.
“What?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“Nothing,” I said, too quickly.
He huffed, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push.
I forced myself to look away, but my thoughts betrayed me.
The memory of Bram’s warning lingered, but so did the image of Asher’s defiance, his fire.
I couldn’t afford this. Not now. Not ever.
But as I watched him out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this hunter, this infuriating, stubborn human, was going to ruin everything.