Chapter 9
LORENZO DEVON
D anger was imminent as a guardian. Part of our lessons taught us how to navigate it, because one slip up not only reflected us, it reflected the CEG, the very one that granted us a chance in a world where our existence was looked down upon.
In a world where I shouldn’t exist.
The CEG gave me everything I had. The only payback I could afford was to protect it. But how could I strive to ensure its safety when homework was my fucking pitfall?
High standing guardians were expected to learn the ins and outs of politics, to keep track of everything going on between the Vampire Ministry, Bureau, CEG, and everything in between. It wasn’t an easy task. . .and that’s why I preferred listening to the important bits and pieces. But to study texts that clustered together and barely made any sense?
It was the fucking worst.
Lace typically gave me run downs. But here, in my cramped room which felt smaller by the second, I had no choice but to dive into new homework that no one could save me from: the notebook I’d tried to ignore ever since I found it.
Two nights going back and forth between what to do. Three twilights I spent locked in this room. Four fucking days with Christopher’s voice stuck in my mind like a broken record.
“ Or I will make you suffer for your despicable actions. ”
His anger echoed in my ears with a fiery cloud. No matter how many gym sessions, I couldn’t force it out. And the beast wasn’t helping with his persistent inkling that itched at my fingertips.
Look inside.
There was no need to when an internet search answered the question etched in my mind after Christopher caught me.
SS stood for Sophia Sephtis, the Premier’s wife and the Sephtis’ mom. But Sophia Sephtis wasn’t just that. Based on Lace, to guardians, she was the scientific—and societal—breakthrough that led to advancing half-humans. But to humans and vampires, she was the first human to marry into a Regal Vampire Family and successfully transition. But the last one to do both.
Right after her transition, the Interchange Act was passed. No more human and vampire marriages were allowed.
Temptation hovered over my thumbs as I glared at my phone screen. My gut twisted at the blurry picture of a sickly pale woman with sharp cheekbones and ash blonde hair who stared back at me. A mini version of her stood on her side, the very one I hadn’t stopped thinking about.
Even though her eyes were mid-blink, I recognized the way they slightly narrowed the same way Christopher’s did.
If this notebook was hers, why was it hidden away in that room? How had no one noticed it?
The answer is probably inside.
Fuck it.
I flipped onto a random page, the familiar scribbled writing occupying the first four lines. This wasn’t an ordinary notebook. . .it was a diary.
Sonia? Ms. Hoko? The NWE? What was she talking about? What the fuck did I get myself into?
“ Too late now,” I whispered to myself as I flipped through the thin pages, the writing fluctuating. Some had short pieces, barely more than four lines. Others had pages on pages of writing, to the point sentences jumbled onto each other without clear direction.
Until something caught my eye, words I’d heard from Mallory, written in Sophia Sephtis’ diary.
Cold dread washed over me. Mallory was connected to all of this, but how?—
Lace’s name appeared on the blackened screen as my phone vibrated. Hesitation froze my muscles. Why? This. . .has never happened before. I’ve never reacted to his phone calls like this. Why now?
I answered before the call could go to voicemail, my eyes glued to the diary. “Devon speaking.”
“Lorenzo.” It had been nearly two weeks since the last time we spoke on the phone—if the few words we shared as a check-in could count. But that warmth was gone. Instead, a heavy weight pressed against my shoulders until everything else numbed.
“Hello? Shoot. Not again. I thought I had fixed this problem after Nina’s call disconnected. . .” he remarked, his gravelly voice pulling me away from whatever was going on with my body.
“What happened with Katerina?”
I hadn’t seen her since I stumbled on her with that Sephtis boy inside the mansion. I should mention it to Lace. He was level-headed and saw everything clearly no matter what. He never let his anger get to him— if he ever got angry. He would know what to do in this situation. Right?
But this was something I needed to deal with. Maybe I should get clarification first. Talking to her—how she liked to call it, lecturing—was overdue, anyway. On top of those laps she still owed me.
But I hadn’t gotten to any of them because I kept thinking about?—
He cleared his throat, his tone careful as he said, “We spoke on Friday but the call kept breaking up.”
A hollow pit dug into my chest. Of course, he was checking up on her. It was a given with her condition, especially since he wasn’t next to her. Unlike me.
The tell signs were obvious back then when she used to miss her medication. A distant look on random occasions. Stand-offish appearance. Bitterness in her voice. The wood-musk scent that used to blanket her skin.
Humans couldn’t distinguish scents beyond the surface level. Vampires didn’t need to since they focused on presence. But for half-humans, it was rare, but possible if trained properly. This ability was instinctive to me. . .and my cousin.
Like me, she recognized scents. She didn’t have to tell me; it was in the way her head always tilted up, how her nostrils flared. She also knew how to mask herself. It was all about control, and when she’d skip her pills, her scent would slip up.
“ I don’t get it. I thought I was fine. Can’t I stop taking it once I’m good? ” she’d asked once during one of my many “lectures.”
“ It doesn’t work that way. ”
She’d rolled her eyes. “ It should. ”
Nina hated medicine as much as I did, and while she was more stubborn than I was, with the years, she had matured. Thankfully, she kept her promise to Lace, and her end of our bargain. As long as she took her medication and properly fed, and she didn’t regress, I wouldn’t ask about her condition, especially since Lace didn’t want to give me possibilities. He wanted concrete answers, and until then, I’d keep my trust in them.
But one possibility I had, the reassurance I kept near, was of a cure for Nina. I couldn’t have one, but she could. That’s all I needed, alongside my treatment.
I had consumed everything and anything possible in the hopes of some remedy, I never found it. . .until Lace sent me on missions. My condition was alleviated through inflicting pain and in some cases, death. Whatever she had was not what I had. And if she needed a babysitter to keep her in check, then so be it. I’d do anything to give her a chance at normalcy that I could never be granted.
“Is she okay?”
He chuckled. “Yes, Enzo, she’s fine. There was something I wanted to talk to her about, but I’m glad I didn’t. It’s better that it comes from you.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a new product for guardians,” he introduced slowly. “It’s still in its early stages since my brothers are still working on its mechanics, but, with the tensions between the Ministry and Bureau, the Two-Species Treaty, all sides want assurance.”
Every year, the CEG released one upgrade for guardians. The new uniformed vests were last year’s, and while, in my opinion, they were useless, it showcased the desire the company had to enhance protection at all costs. I don’t know what else they could improve. . .unless they were bringing in something new. Like the silver nitrate Lace’s brother discovered. “And how will the CEG ensure that?”
“Weapons.”
Silence echoed between us. Weapons had always been a topic that the CEG played around with but never settled on. Guardians were engineered to protect, that in itself a weapon. We were disliked as it was. Adding weapons into the mix would create more fear.
“I hope that silence is filled with happiness?” he joked.
“Just confused. What type of weapons are we talking about?”
“I understand. I was reluctant to the idea, but with both governments introducing it, the CEG is playing around with a kit belt. Knives and batons are more likely to get greenlit. But my brother is looking at something else that can fully concentrate the silver nitrate. Like guns.”
“Why?” Irritation lined the edges of my question, but I tried biting it back. Guns were already seen as unsafe. To have guardians—who have been positioned in a neutral place since the birth of the CEG—carrying one would open the door to backlash.
“Ammunition has been the easiest form to mold it into. There's a fast turnaround when in the line of action.” He sighed. “Listen, your hesitation is normal, but this would be the best way for the CEG to expand. You trust me, right?”
There it was. The question he’d asked me six years ago, when I’d arrived after Mom’s death, with only my clothes on my back and my cousin, lost and hazy. The very one that opened the doors to my new life as a guardian and our friendship.
“Of course, I do.”
“Good, because I’ll need you to break it to Nina if it moves forward. And, if it does, Lorenzo Devon, I want to recruit you for the training and weaponry trails.”
“Even if I don’t have any experience with weapons?”
“Especially because you don’t have any experience. It’s all new. To you and me. This means you’ll be able to retire from your. . .other missions.”
My eyebrows raised. Those missions had been a part of my life for the past four years. I never questioned what would come after, or even if there was an after outside of them. “Really?”
“Yes. This is more crucial, and it means we’ll be in this. Together.”
“Together.” Those words were meant to send a wave of relief, but I felt nothing. Until my eyes fell on the diary in front of me. “But Lace.”
“Yes?”
In our relationship, we didn’t lie, but we also didn’t hold back information. There was never no need to. But I couldn’t help but think that foundation was crumbling, piece by piece as I uttered, “Nothing. Never mind.”
Hours after our phone call ended, when light vanished and darkness consumed the sky and my room, a knock against the door yanked me away from the desk. I hadn’t noticed the ache echoing in my muscles. Especially not the soreness on my backside until I inched the door open to peek out.
I wasn’t sure who I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the Senior Guardian.
Sonia bowed and I responded the best way I could: with a swift nod. When she straightened herself, she said, “Good evening, Mr. Devon. I apologize for the late visit, however, I come with a last-minute summons.”
I spoke to Sonia a handful of times, and unlike other guardians, a few things stuck out to me.
One: she didn’t have a scent. She must have been one of the first guardians to be fully trained on how to conceal it.
Two: she never removed her sunglasses. Some guardians opted out of them like Katerina and me. Other guardians retired them after their post. She didn’t. They always sat perfectly in place against her flat bridge.
Three: she had a habit of closing the distance between us. Compared to her interactions with other guardians, where she kept them at a considerable arm’s length, with me it was as if she wanted to be close enough to sniff me. Weird, but I’ve experienced weirder in past posts.
Four: even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I could feel them on me, studying, attentive. Any movement I took—whether that be to breathe or glance around—they tracked me like a hawk. The intensity was always present, but somehow, it wasn’t in the same way a guardian would have over subordinates. It was nostalgic, warm, and piercing.
And five: every time we spoke, a chill crawled up my spine. It wasn’t the same chill that took over whenever I visited the CEG. Nor did my hairs raise as when I chased prey. They were completely new.
“From who?”
“Christopher Sephtis.”
Huh. He couldn’t even come to see me himself. Cowardly, pompous fuck.
I nodded as I ignored the warmth that spread through my chest and poured into my veins. “Thank you, Ms. . .” What was her last name again?
“Sonia.” Her voice faltered, the serious tone diminishing as she spoke, “Sonia is fine.”
My lips pressed against each other. “Thank you, Sonia.” With one more bow, she left, leaving me alone with my screaming thoughts.
Do I go to Christopher? He was still my employer, and as a guardian, rules had to be followed. Never had I broken them before—except for Lace.
But fuck that. I wasn’t going to run to Christopher like a fucking dog. If he needed to talk to me, he could find me. But that had to wait. Something else needed answers. Tonight.
Leaves crunched beneath my steady footing as I followed the passing wind, cold air brushing the short hair on my scalp. I’d never gone longer than two weeks without shaving. But thinking about everything that’s happened in less than a month, it slipped my mind.
That needs to be fixed. After.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my legs pumped faster, each push blurring my surroundings. Trees parted the deeper I ran into the crisp night, rich woodsy scents mixing with the damp air. Running was the only release the beast and me could fully surrender. A freedom that sharpened all of our senses yet numbed our thoughts until I could only hear my pounding heartbeat.
Our relationship had always been complicated. Confining. I reigned the chains around his neck, but on nights he came out, my hold thinned. But running was the compromise that didn’t gamble it.
My lungs strained. The beast hovered over my skin and darted forward. Further. Faster. Until the parlor came into view. With heavy breaths, I pulled Mallory’s note from my pocket, his signature taunting me. But Sophia’s written words diminished them as pieces slowly came together.
A vampire-born hybrid led the Forgotten Wave. Mallory was a vampire, but he was ostracized by his kind. Could it have been because he turned into a hybrid?
Search the painting and find his whereabouts.
Vampires pranced around the entrance, forcing my body to turn onto a side wall where trees concealed me. Fire lined my cuticles, claws emerging as flesh colored nails blended into my skin. I pounced onto the stone wall, and when I reached the fourth floor, I tugged at the window. Surprisingly, it was open, but why wouldn’t it be when these vampires didn’t have an ounce of regard for their safety?
A familiar painting came into view next to the window. That was number four. So where was five? My nostrils flared as I tracked the air, Mallory’s scent leading me down the hall and into the opposite den, a single painting decorating the dark empty space.
It was creepy as fuck. Reds and browns fused into an animal—if it’s supposed to be one—the mangled form contouring with exposed teeth as it devoured a body.
And the corner of the painting, there it was. 194.5.
The beast's whispers grew louder, an instinct seizing my fingers as I stepped forward and ripped the horrifying painting apart. A piece of paper fell on the floor.
Hairs stood on my arms and a tingle pulled my attention to the side. A body thudded onto the floor. The stranger’s round face missed the carpet by a hair, the flush in his sepia skin deepening as he tried to stand. Short, dark hair swayed as he tried to find his balance.
He was the bartender from the first time I visited Le Maudit. Unlike that night where he was collected and proper like a vampire, right now, he was a mess as he tried to unsteadily walk toward me.
He audibly gagged into his fist. Gross. “Didn’t think this liquor could do this much. Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said, his words slurring.
Suddenly, my body froze, anger boiling my skin and seeping into my words. “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Didn’t mean to piss on ya.” His head lolled to the side, his gaze widening. Slate-gray eyes fell on me as recognition glazed over. “I remember. You’re from that night, yeah? What’s ya name? Mine is Ian.”
“None of your business.” I pushed forward, my legs stiff as the word echoed in a different tone. Why did it sound too familiar? Memories blurred in my mind, figures clashing, and as I pushed through the fog, a headache pulsed.
Before I could pass him, a forceful hand met my chest, stopping me in my tracks. The man’s shoulder met mine as he turned his head to me. Those blank eyes suddenly sharpened. “I thought you’d play nice after finding ya mate.”
“I’ll show you a fucking mate?—”
Everything blurred as his hands wrapped around my shoulders and hurled me through a window. Glass pierced my skin and floated all around until my back tumbled onto hard ground. Pain exploded and seeped into my bones, muscles instantly throbbing.
“Fuck!” I bellowed into the frigid air. Every movement forced the sharp glass pieces deeper into my torso and hips as I tried to stand.
Feet pounded onto the gravel, the fucker straightening himself with ease. There was no trace of his lowered eyelids and stumbling body. He was tall and intense like the shadows hovering in my head.
“What do you want ?” I growled, the beast’s voice surfacing. Shit.
Ian pointed at the paper still in my grip. “That.”
“Over my dead fucking body.”
“Nothing’s stopping the Wave from crashing. Especially not that fox Syl. A changed mind won’t change the ripple.” Ian glanced up at me, amber gleaming in the silver pools of his eyes. “Then so be it.”
Clothes ripped apart as his body expanded. Human teeth tumbled onto the ground alongside strands of hair. Bones cracked and snapped, his chest and height doubling. Dark fur rapidly covered skin in patches. Nails lengthened into sharp tips, the ends keen as knives. His human face morphed, the lean form vanishing into a long snout. Amber eyes stretched into the darkening scleras, parted by black slits, and razor-sharp fangs crowded his mouth.
The beast was standing right in front of me, but it wasn’t him. The bartender was never a vampire, he was a lycan .
How? They’d all died off.
He pounced and attacked. Ferociousness burned in his gaze, paw-like hands swinging with precision. My body instinctively reacted, but not fast enough. Nails grazed my skin and dug, his force greater than mine. This was strength I’d never experienced before. It was raw and feral. And he was going to kill me.
The beast emerged and ripped out of my grip, the pain in my chest exploding. His heart took over and mine hushed. The two weren’t at war anymore—they came to an agreement.
My vision sharpened. Everything attuned to my senses. A wave of nausea surpassed me. Bones cracked and blood spilled as fire scorched my veins. Gums throbbed while teeth tumbled out of my lips, spilling onto the ground where paws trampled. Canines rapidly assumed their place. Fur enveloped the stretching skin that now housed the bloodthirsty beast.
A snarl escaped my mouth as I sprang onto Ian, meeting each of his swings with my own. The figure of the beast was taller than man, more monstrous than those wolf-like creatures humans liked to depict. Aggression and thick rage erased logic. Pungent iron coated the passing wind. Was it mine or his? It didn’t matter. All I needed was to take his last breath.
Keen canines landed on skin and yanked, flesh flailing and blood gushing. Intense ringing echoed in my ears as my vision blurred. Lights flashed as Ian stumbled backward, his human form slowly reappearing as it grew brighter. Had the sun come back? And why was it so fucking loud?
Footsteps echoed in the distance as parked cars came into view. The hair on my neck rose and a voice sharpened.
Run.
I sprinted, ran until my lungs clung for air and my feet numbed. Everything dimmed. A crisp scent filled my nostrils.
“Lorenzo!”
I knew that voice, how right my name sounded whenever Christopher said it, but why couldn’t I see him? “Doll?” The voice was a croak, a void that had no embodiment.
“You’re going to bleed out!” Christopher’s voice was frantic, as if afraid. Slowly, his face came into frame. I could make out his outline, the framing blonde strands, the harsh lines that dimmed his expression. His knitted eyebrows and shaking gaze.
Even when painted in fear, he was beautiful.