Chapter 4 – Luke
My phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the past hour, and I groan. “For fuck’s sake, can’t they let a man sleep?”
The incessant sound tears me from the grasp of my dreamless sleep. I throw my legs over the side of my cot, my head spinning. White-hot pain flashes through my entire body. I pitch over, bracing my hands against my thighs. “Fuck!”
The agony is so intense I can’t think, just existing within the cacophony of horrible sensations crashing through my body at once. I rock in place, clutching my ribs. I don’t even remember if it was Enzo or Olivia who hit me, but they must have broken something because it fucking hurts.
I’m fortunate enough to have a body that heals just as well as vampires, but it’s not a luxury service. It’s a lot like those days in my tween years when I woke up in the middle of the night crying because I could feel my bones growing during a growth spurt. The pain isn’t as extreme as growing bones from nothing, but if I move too much, I could puke.
Ivan broke my arm once on purpose so that I’d know what the pain was like to have your bones fuse back together just the way they always were. Years later, this is a piece of cake.
But that doesn’t make it pleasant.
My phone buzzes again, and I scowl, but at least now I’m conscious enough to look at the screen and see the words as more than a random string of letters. There are dozens of missed calls from the Academy’s private number and almost a hundred unread texts. Most of them are from the Academy administration, but there are some from hunter acquaintances I’ve made over the years, like Kurt, who I met in Austria a few years ago, though I wouldn’t say we’re friends. The Academy most likely implored him to inquire as to my status. They must be panicking when they didn’t hear back from Ivan or me after we engaged in our mission last night.
I stare at the wall of texts, but whenever I see queries about Ivan, numbness creeps back in. I’ve never had to detail the death of another hunter on a job.
Academy: Urgent status update.
Academy: Report.
Academy: Continued unauthorized behavior will result in punishment.
Luke: Mission failure. Barely made it to the safehouse alive.
Academy: Confirmed kills?
Luke: Olivia aka Oniva, Ancient Vampire. Alex aka Arcien, Unknown Vampire, possible kill, not yet confirmed.
Academy: What is Admiral Morozov’s status?
Luke: Deceased.
Academy: Retrieve Admiral Morozov’s remains immediately and return them to the nearest collection facility. Confirm Arcien’s survival or defeat. Report within 24hrs.
Luke: On it.
Last night was supposed to be a quick in-and-out job, but somehow, everything that could have gone wrong went wrong in a matter of minutes. We’ve been chasing Aurelius for decades, and for the longest time, it seemed like he was always four steps ahead of us. And now that we finally had the drop on him and the element of surprise, we so supremely fucked it up that I don’t think we’ll ever have the same chance again.
Retrieving Ivan’s remains means going back to Lorianna’s house but thinking about what that conversation will entail makes my head fucking hurt.
Do I just say, ‘Hello, I know I broke into your dad’s office last night and caused a huge fight that resulted in multiple casualties, but I need to collect Ivan’s remains because he’s not human and we can’t let a human doctor look at him, or else all our secrets will be jeopardized’ and hope for the best? And that’s assuming she hasn’t already called the cops and Ivan’s body hasn’t been removed from the scene. If he has, that adds another complicated layer to this retrieval.
But it has to be done, or there will be consequences.
I settle back against the cot, my weight making the springs creak beneath me. There’s no one here but me and my ghosts. I vaguely remember going into Gilbert Monroe’s office in search of information that would lead us to Aurelius’ whereabouts, but I was interrupted by the commotion downstairs. When I returned to the main floor, I was accosted by Ethelios and his mate Oniva, otherwise known as Enzo and Olivia, and they would have killed me if it wasn’t for Ivan.
Everything after I fled Lorianna’s house is a blur, but somehow I made it out alive and to a safe house instead of passing out in the ditch.
Ivan, though…
A sigh reverberates through my lungs, feeling heavier and louder in the silence. Ivan brutally stabbed Olivia in the heart with a wooden stake, and she disintegrated to ash in front of Enzo. He let out a cry that sounded like a human breaking, and even though they’re monsters, the sounds someone makes when a loved one dies never becomes any easier to hear.
Ivan would call me soft, but it’s important to me to remember that while vampires are selfish beings, they were humans once, too. Not all of them are horrible, emotionless beings like Aurelius.
Ivan was lucky for a quick death in battle. When Enzo hunts me down, he’ll wish eternal suffering on me. Torture. Or worse, he could turn me into a mindless, blood-sucking monster. Not a vampire, but a spawn—a thrall. A half-living, half-dead slave, the kind of vampire most rookie hunters spend their days chasing after for target practice.
But no matter what Enzo does, nothing will bring back the love of his life.
I didn’t land the killing blow, but that’s not what matters.
I have my own bone to pick with that asshole for murdering Ivan. I don’t give a shit that Enzo will be stronger in his vengeance-driven state; I’ll finish that fuckhead for what he did to my old man.
Ivan was a prick, but he cared for me in the way he knew. Because of him, I’ve been able to survive in this brutal, unforgiving world, and he made this lonely life of being a vampire hunter much more tolerable. He was a legendary hunter who deserved either an epic death or to die in his sleep as an old fart. He didn’t deserve to go out this way.
There was never a version of reality I imagined where that sick fuck Aurelius survived Ivan and continued to terrorize humanity.
It seems I will be the one to kill Aurelius after all. Our opportunity in LA escaped us, and before I can begin the hunt again, I need to pick up the pieces.
I need to rest more and heal, but the Academy has given me a direct order, and if I don’t get the job done, I’ll become another one of their terminated assets.
I close my eyes. Just a few more minutes, then I’ll be on my way.
If it were any other job, this wouldn’t be so hard. But because of the personal connection on both sides, I’ll be walking into a potential minefield. And I don’t know where to begin with Lorianna.
I imagine running my fingers through Lorianna’s soft, wavy hair. I can taste the cherry sweetness of her lips and hear the echo of her moans as I caress her in all the places that make her sing. She told me she wanted to build a future together, but will we be able to now?
I need to take responsibility for what happened. I know that’s the only way forward. What I don’t know is how to explain any of the other shit that comes with it. Vampires, vampire hunters, my mission. Me.
Us.
The longer I wait, the more my already slim chances diminish significantly. I need to get in touch with her soon. Checking my phone again, I have a dozen conversations with new unread messages, but mine and Lorianna’s is noticeably quiet. My heart squeezes with worry.
She was upstairs in her room during the entire confrontation, but who knows what happened after that? For all I know, she could be completely fine, oblivious to the real dangers out there, but she found out about my involvement and is pissed at me.
Or she could be silent because she’s dead.
No. Fuck, don’t think about that. She’s fine, she’s safe, I’m just being a pussy.
Our last texts are from the other night, a flirtatious exchange hinting at our plans for the night. It feels so surreal that we spent those hours together, lost in laughter and the warmth of each other’s company. I even had the chance to introduce her to Ivan, only for a vampire to murder him in her house hours later.
If I message her now, I doubt she will respond, but my fingers move anyway. I sketch out what feels like a sincere apology, but the words fall into a rambling mess. I abuse the backspace button until my thumbs are sore from typing and retyping and deleting. I need to get it across that I’m sorry for what happened and want to know that she’s okay and that we should talk so she can hear my side of the story. But it’s a fine line between being self-assured, acknowledging my faults, and begging to see her.
In the end, I have nothing written and nothing sent. Nothing I can possibly say feels adequate.
I press the call button instead. Right now, I’d be happy to hear her voice, even if it’s just for her to yell at me. It starts up, and then the call ends with a CUSTOMER NOT AVAILABLE audio message.
My jaw locks. Chances are, she blocked me.
Normally, I would be willing to give this more time. But the Academy has its demands, so I can’t take no for an answer. If she won’t answer my calls, it seems I’ll be paying her a house visit.
A full day after my failed mission, the first fingers of golden dawn crest the sky as I climb through the broken back window into Lorianna’s Victorian-style mansion. I keep my ears and eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. My boots crunch on layers of shattered glass when I step inside, where the couches and ottomans are tipped over. Several photo albums have fallen on the floor with pictures scattered around.
I’ve seen so many homes destroyed by vampires, but it’s more horrible when it’s the home of someone you know and love. Lorianna.
I never wanted this to happen. I’m not supposed to form attachments to my targets, and the old me would have let go of any connections I had to the mission as soon as they were compromised. Yet threads of longing connect me to Lorianna despite the failures and complications between us. I remember the admiration in her eyes when I stopped that thief from stealing a woman’s purse when we were at the LA park rave together. I can still taste the mint chocolate ice cream in my mouth when we kissed at the ice cream parlor. I can still feel the way her thighs quivered against my wrist under my ministrations.
We were so close, and she was mine. I can’t walk away like she isn’t special to me.
Because she is special. And so much more.
She made me realize I can do better, that I can be more for her.
“Lorianna?” I call out. “It’s Luke. I just want to talk.”
My voice echoes through the house. I don’t think she’s home, or anyone else, for that matter. Based on the information I’ve gained from the Academy, the moment mission control suspected our job went sideways, they initiated an operation on the other side of the city to try and draw some attention away from the Monroe estate and hopefully give us a chance to escape. It was too late for Ivan, but I’m hopeful that desecrating his body wasn’t on the top of the vampires’ priorities because of the Academy’s quick thinking.
At first, I don’t touch anything. I only have three objectives to complete by coming here: figure out how to get in touch with Lorianna, recover Ivan’s body, and clean up the scene enough that it looks like a robbery and nothing else.
And as soon as my job here is done, my first priority is tracking down Lorianna. Whether she’s blocked me or not, she is in danger.
Aurelius is notorious for terminating anyone who could compromise his livelihood. As soon as me and Ivan failed to make a clean escape, Aurelius would have weighed the odds of us coming for him. The most common outcome with him is to play it safe, dissolve the company he’s fronting, and disappear again.
If Lorianna were anyone else, I would dismiss her as dead by now; Aurelius tends to move fast. But I have to believe she’s still alive. The alternatives are too fucking unthinkable.
I can’t lose her.
Just the possibility of this fuckup costing me her is enough to make me shake with rage. But I cool it as best as I can as I hurry upstairs to her room because I know anger won’t get me any closer to finding her.
As soon as I’m in the room, I stop at the threshold. The last time I saw her, she was curled up on her side beneath the blankets, her chest rising and falling with the depth of her sleep. I wanted desperately to slip in behind her, hold her against my chest, and kiss her neck before we drifted off together. I wonder how that night would have turned out had I done that instead of going along with Ivan’s plan.
I move over to the bed, my memories of her haunting me. On this bed, I’ve held Lorianna countless times. Brought her to the edge of ecstasy and pushed her beyond. But in all the time we’ve been together, I haven’t let her reciprocate that pleasure. I always got so carried away with making her feel incredible that getting off came secondary, even though I’ve wanted to feel her hands and mouth on me, too. Her needs always came first, especially after she was attacked and nearly raped.
But the last time we were on this bed together, I almost made love to her. She was so fucking beautiful I couldn’t keep my hands off her, and she was so into every moment, crying out and moaning at every touch. Practically begging to go all the way.
Now, I don’t know if we ever will.
It’s not even the sex I’m sad about. I could get laid right now if I really wanted to. The fear of losing her transcends physical intimacy. Gently running my hand along the pink and blue blankets. As I come around the side, I notice her phone in the middle of the mattress. No wonder I haven’t been able to find her; she doesn’t even have it with her. A jagged sense of worry crawls through me.
Grabbing the device, I try to wake up the screen. It’s turned off.
Did she ditch it because she was worried about being tracked? If so, smart.
Or was she forced to leave it behind when Enzo kidnapped her from her own home? If so, fucking horrifying.
Urgency thrums in my blood. I need to find her, and fast. I pocket the phone just in case, then I give the room another once-over and clamber down to the main floor to search for clues. Anything to lead me in the right direction. So far, there’s no concrete proof she was dragged off against her will. Her phone is circumstantial at best. But if she left on her own, where would she go?
To Emma’s or Lauren’s, one of her best friends, is my first assumption. But if Lorianna has any idea of the danger, I don’t think she’d put her friends at risk, too.
Everywhere I look is filled with senseless destruction. Papers and glass scattered everywhere, and I practically tear the house apart for something—anything—of use. With the exception of the dining room, which I’m avoiding because I know that’s where I’ll find Ivan.
I return to the couch where Lorianna and I cuddled and watched movies after dinner two nights ago, but it’s the photos on the floor that catch my attention now. Two albums have fallen from the lower shelf of an end table, leaving several photos on the floor. One is a picture of Lorianna as a teenager and two women with strawberry blonde hair that I don’t recognize. They are obviously related, but I’ve seen photos of Lorianna’s deceased mother, Carmen.
“So who are you?” I wonder and pick up the photo.
Turning it over, I find neat handwriting on the bottom corner that reads Marionne, Lorianna, and Samira, 2014. Another picture of the two women, Marionne and Samira, shows them in front of a mountain that’s anvil-shaped with a flat top and narrow curved sides. I’d recognize Mount Clef Ridge anywhere; I pass through Thousand Oaks on the drive from LA to the closest Academy base in northern Cali from time to time.
If Alex is presumed dead, Lorianna would have fled and sought refuge at the nearest safe haven to her. Family.
In the pile of pictures, I find another of a quaint yellow house. I fold the picture over and stuff it in my pocket. Their names, a city, and a visual of a home are more than enough to go on. I’m a hunter, and tracking people who don’t want to be found is what I do.
Now that I know my next steps regarding Lorianna’s safety, there’s one last matter I must attend to in this house before anyone else arrives. My stomach squeezes in anticipation as I walk into the dining room, where I last saw Ivan draw breath.