Chapter 8 Vin
CHAPTER 8: VIN
Vin snuck out a side window of the apartment building and climbed down a drainpipe when he left Angel’s apartment because taking an expected exit was a good way to end up dead one day, as Luca had almost discovered. The subdued panic of the pack had been impossible to miss, so he’d stuck around long enough to catch the gist of what had happened to Marco’s cousin by eavesdropping on the crew cleaning up the mess from the bomb. It was definitely an inside job. That meant his Angel would be playing bodyguard against his own pack, which would hurt him.
Vin needed to make it better. And he needed an excuse to stay in the pack complex so he could watch Angel’s back. The guy was far too trusting of people he considered family. Oh, he’d definitely save Luca if he was attacked, but he’d probably do something stupid like hesitate to kill the person attacking and end up sacrificing himself instead. Which was not fucking acceptable. Vin needed to speed his plans up so he could get back where he belonged—by his Angel’s side, whether he wanted him there or not.
Heading out to the street, he immediately noticed the human watching the complex from the street corner. The pack had let the distraction of the bomb throw them off their game or they would’ve already noticed the would-be spy. He considered telling his Angel, but he didn’t want to add to his plate and, to be honest, he was still pissed at him. Instead, he took a picture of the human and flicked it to Marco in a text before sliding up to the driver’s window and knocking on it, a friendly smile on his face and his renewed power flowing freely in a way this human wouldn’t be able to resist.
Cold brown eyes met his as the driver wound the window down looking confused by his own actions. Vin didn’t bother making small talk. He simply snapped the seatbelt with his talons and ripped the guy from his seat. His general frustration almost had him slamming the man’s fragile body into the asphalt too hard, but he restrained himself. Just. Then he used the broken seatbelt to restrain him , hogtying the guy and leaving him bound and bloodied on the street before smashing a fist into his temple to knock him out. Flicking another text to Marco to let him know the human was waiting, he reached through the window to unlock the car and jumped inside. It was a win-win. Marco got someone to question, and he got the ride he needed.
An hour later, he had a new burner phone, cash, computer, and ID from one of his many stashes around the city. His plan was going to have to be quick and dirty. He needed to get back to his Angel to protect him, but he needed to woo him as well or Angel wouldn’t let him stay. So, he was going to give his Angel a present. The perfect courting gift.
His non-burner phone buzzed as if the thought had conjured the message.
Marco
Thanks for the present. You wrapped it and everything. Love the bow.
Vin
Anything for my future pack, Sugar .
The message was him testing the waters, sounding Marco out. Convincing his Angel they belonged together was one thing, but he knew he wouldn’t get anywhere without the Alpha’s blessing. His Angel’s loyalty to his pack, and to Marco in particular, was an inalienable part of who he was.
Marco
At least one of you isn’t an idiot.
Wait. What? This was interesting. He knew Marco had encouraged him to sleep with Angel at the cabin, but he hadn’t expected this tacit support.
Vin
Don’t call my Angel an idiot. And don’t you dare let him die protecting your cousin.
Marco
Don’t worry. Your mate is safer in my house with Luca. Why do you think I moved him out of his apartment?
Vin frowned as he read the sentences again. And then again. Maybe he was an idiot. Vampires mated, too. But he’d never come across a vampire/shifter pairing. The word mate hadn’t crossed his mind once, but it explained the instant obsession he’d had for his Angel and the weird way he’d never called him Sugar like he did all his other marks. The potential mate status would make the Alpha easier to handle, but he wasn’t sure it would help his Angel come round. If he was even aware. If anything, it might make Angelo even more resentful.
Vin
Did you tell him?
Marco
I did. He’s still adjusting.
A polite way of saying his Angel was freaking out. Finding your mate was rare enough that it wasn’t unusual for the couple to be totally unaware. It also wasn’t unheard of for them to reject the bond. Usually because one or both had already committed to someone else or because no one wanted to feel like they had no choice in who they spent the rest of their immortal life with. All the more reason to give his Angel a courting gift, a mating gift, that would show him how special he was. Shifters fed their mates. Vampires wooed and seduced them.
Vin
I’ll be back soon.
Marco
I’m not going to tell him that. He needs to realise what he’s at risk of losing.
Vin
He’s MINE. He couldn’t lose me if he tried.
Marco
I wouldn’t be helping you if I thought otherwise. Hurt him and I’ll kill you.
Vin
Back at ya, Sugar. Plus a side of torture. xx
Putting his phone aside, he grabbed the computer and got to work. This shouldn’t be too complicated. He needed to tie up loose ends so he could focus all his attention on the mate he hoped he could bond with soon. Needed to complete this one last job before he placed his future, and his heart, firmly in Angelo’s paws.
The assassin community was, in some ways, every person for themselves, and in other ways, an inbred cesspit. They all knew who the major players were. They had ways to communicate with each other and their own whisper network that ensured bad operators couldn’t secure their services. For most, that just meant people who weren’t good for the cash, those who tried to get them into a bidding war to the bottom, or those who lied about the risks involved.
For him, it had also been a way to stick to his own personal ethics. He used the network of contacts to get the background he needed on his clients. Occasionally, if the ethics were unclear rather than abhorrent, he would simply pass the job on to a colleague. His willingness to give up a payday garnered him brownie points despite the fact many of his ‘colleagues’ hated that he had first pick of most jobs because he was the best. Always had been.
So, it didn’t raise any red flags when he reached out to someone else in the business with a message?—
Vin
Need to lie low for a few weeks. Can you take over a job for me? Top dollar client. Wants a clean shot in public to scare his rivals.
The assassin he’d contacted took three days to respond. It wasn’t surprising. There was never a shortage of work and sniper shots were low-risk, lower-reward bread and butter. Not as exciting for those whose tastes were more bloodthirsty and not as big a return compared to the more complicated and specific requests. Even though he was burning with impatience, he waited another day before transferring the money and sending through the details of when and where. It never paid to appear too desperate. He didn’t want to make the guy gun-shy.
As he waited, Vin wondered what his Angel would think of how transactional death was to people like him. He could guess. Angel was a different kind of man to him. A better man. Vin knew the pack—and Marco—could use his skills. But if it made his Angel upset, he’d just have to find a new occupation. Maybe he could go into public relations and murder people’s reputations instead. The pack could do with a cleaner image, and the public definitely needed to see just how dirty Kyan’s coven really was.
With everything in place, he was free to get some rest before the fun started the next day. He couldn’t help screwing up his face as he lay down in the cold sheets of his cash-only, no-questions-asked motel bed all alone. His body was naturally cooler than a shifter’s or a human’s, but the temperature had never bothered him before. Now that his Angel had held him against the heat of his body, though, he never wanted to sleep without that warmth again. Just thinking of his mate made his cock achingly swollen, and he wrapped his fist around it and pumped a few times as pre-cum leaked down his shaft. It was an exercise in futility. The past few days had taught him that jerking off would do nothing for his frustration. He’d be just as desperate once he finished. He couldn’t help but be a little pissed off at his shifter for forcing them apart and it brought out the worst in him.
Pulling out his phone, he took a photo of his taught, naked body and texted it to the man he couldn’t get out of his thoughts. He almost put a message alongside it. Almost told Angel that he missed him. That he couldn’t live without him. That Vin’s body was his forever, if he’d just fucking claim it.
Instead, he forced himself to channel the ruthlessly sexual self he usually showed to the world. Even if it killed him a little inside to stay silent. Marco was right. His Angel needed to realise what he was missing. The photo would remind him. He hoped. And his present would make his Angel see how much Vin cared—enough to burn his bridges and kiss his old life goodbye.
The next morning, he dressed with a smile in an outfit he hadn’t realised would be so significant when he’d packed it into his spare bag years ago. It was fate that it would drive his Angel wild. Blood-red lace panties, ankle boots with a stiletto heel sharp enough to kill, black leather pants that were painted on, and an elaborate leather harness that had just enough structure to it to pass as a shirt... almost. The outfit had a wealth of straps and hidden pockets that allowed him to carry a small arsenal with him and, per usual, his wrists were lined with leather bracelets that concealed the garottes he was so famous for using. He didn’t have a calling card, preferring to leave his kills more of a mystery. But if he did, it would be the delicious slice of piano cable through a neck until the blood gushed down their skin in rivulets he could lick from a body as it twitched with its death throes.
His final mark before he committed to reform to whatever his Angel and his future pack needed was almost too easy. A disappointment even. The vampire was exactly where he was supposed to be. The only place he could be. There was the usual danger in how to approach him without arousing his suspicion, and if Vin wasn’t as skilled, perhaps he would’ve taken a few shots to the chest. Even if he had, it would’ve been nothing compared to the pain of his Angel sending him away.
When his fangs sank into the vampire’s neck and his paralysing, torturous venom took hold of his mark’s body, he thought it would be more satisfying. Instead, he just felt nauseous and dirty at letting the mark’s tainted blood pass his lips. He compared the sick metallic taste to his mate’s liquid sunshine, and it couldn’t compete. Would all other blood taste like dust on his tongue now? Part of him hoped he would never find out. That he could feed only on his mate for the rest of their existence. He didn’t need to feed often. Only once or twice a week. Especially if it was straight from a supernatural’s veins. His mate could sustain him. That was wishful thinking, though. Chances were slim that Angelo would ever consent again when he hated vampire kind so much. He couldn’t afford to expect anything other than the coldest of shoulders from his burning bright shifter.
Tossing the rigid, paralysed vampire over his shoulder, he carried him to the car he’d requisitioned and threw him a little harder than necessary into the trunk. Everything in him screamed at him to take his pain out on the vampire. To rend his flesh and twist his mind until he was sobbing in fear and screaming in agony. To make him feel even a fraction of the despair Vin felt when he thought of a life without his Angel. To make him feel even a fraction of the pain he had caused his victims over his immortal lifetime.
He didn’t have that freedom. He had a job to do. And as dulcet as the melody of his tortured screams would be, he had to have patience. This vampire was not his to bring to his knees. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun, though.
As the vampire’s eyes stared wide and unblinking at him, frozen by his venom, Vin grabbed the roll of razor wire he’d packed in the backseat.
“Sorry, Sugar. Ran out of rope. You understand,” he said.
And then he trussed him up so thoroughly it was a thing of beauty. Steel and blood painted ribbons across his skin, hugging each of the most vulnerable points of his body. Blades nestled into the hollow beneath his ear, hovered a hair’s-breadth above his eyeball, pushed tight against his shrivelled balls.
Vin left him clothed, but he knew the wire would cut off blood flow to his extremities in just the right way to leave his skin mottled red and white and alternating between a numbness that would make him panic at the thought he would lose something essential and throbbing agony. He’d removed the man’s shoes, and the razors were slicing down to the bone of several of his fingers and toes, releasing the sharp tang of blood into the air and making Vin’s mouth water despite the fact he couldn’t stand his taste.
The crowning glory was when he passed the wire across his mouth like a horse’s bit, making the corners of his cheeks pull wide and split to bare now-impotent fangs dripping with venom. The same fangs that had destroyed so many lives.
“There. That should do it. Are you comfy, Sugar?” Vin asked with a smile as he stared down at the vampire immobilised and leaking sweat and blood onto the dirty upholstery of the stolen car.
As he slammed the trunk closed, he felt like he was closing a very long chapter of his life. It was an ending and, he hoped, a beginning.
He had a promise to fulfil.