Chapter Thirteen – Lucian
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LUCIAN
I stand at the head of the table, arms folded across my chest, glaring at my brothers, waiting for a fucking explanation.
Boiling rage consumes me. The only thing—the only reason I haven’t torn them limb from limb—is her.
I can still feel her mouth on mine, her touch, her scent.
The memory of it throws a delicate blanket over my fury.
“Well?” I press.
Silas leans back, his jaw tighter than stone. “We went to St. Winnifred’s,” he sighs. “Me, Hex, Viktor, Echo, and Talon.”
“I found the address,” Echo says. “Among other things that were… questionable.”
I look between them. “Are you going to divulge this information, or continue to test my patience?” I seethe.
Echo leans forward on his elbows and rubs his face with both hands. He lets out a reluctant sigh. “It was a church. A convent, as she stated.” His gaze meets mine. “There is no record of her. She doesn’t exist.”
“How did you find this out? We can’t step foot into a place of worship,” I remind him.
“Sister Mary Joan found us outside,” Viktor says as he enters the room and takes his seat at the table.
“Hex?” I ask, needing to know he’s still breathing.
“Strapped down. He’s healing, but it’s going to be slow and painful. Talon is watching him,” Viktor reports.
I nod, relief washing over me.
“Sister Mary Joan sensed us. A mortal nun sensed our presence and caught us off guard,” Silas cuts in.
“How?” I frown. It’s unheard of. There have always been stories that holy places are protected, but our code would never permit us to bring harm to them, so we stay away.
“Because she isn’t fucking mortal,” Cain says, cutting across him.
Viktor slaps one of his old tomes onto the table and flips it open, jabbing a finger at the page. “An angel.”
“Pfft,” I scoff. “Angels don’t exist.”
No one speaks. Their silence is so loud it makes my eyes widen.
“Angels are real?” I question.
“Why is that so hard to believe when we exist?” Cain counters. “Us, Anathema, and fuck knows what else.”
I blink, letting the information sink in.
Viktor points to the illustration in his book. “It was believed angels walked among humans. They were there to guide them through their earliest days.” He turns the page, pointing to another image. “They weren’t supposed to stay. Stories say some refused to return.”
I drag my hands through my hair. “So what, there’s a pissed-off god up there watching his angels defy him?” I ask, disbelief thick in my tone. When you’ve lived as long and as brutally as I have, becoming a monster doesn’t exactly leave you filled with faith in the almighty.
“No.” Cain shakes his head. “These angels aren’t the ones from religion. ‘Angel’ is just the name they were given. They’re guardians. Protectors. No one knows why they were put here, or why some chose to stay. Fuck, no one has seen one in over a thousand years.”
“Right, so these angels are real. They’ve been in hiding. Why? And what does any of that have to do with Evelynn?” I press. None of it makes sense.
“Sister Mary Joan wouldn’t tell us,” Silas says. “She simply said she was never protected from you. She was protected for you.”
“Protected for you?” I repeat, possessiveness rising to the surface.
The corner of Silas’s mouth curves slightly, seeing right through me. “For you. She thought I was you.”
My world tilts. I knew from the moment I saw her that something was different. The desire to have her. To possess her. To claim her as mine.
“How? What?” I ask, utterly bewildered.
“She handed us a small book,” Viktor says, placing something no bigger than the palm of my hand on the table. “The nun… she was older than humanly possible. We were out on the grounds, and she came to us. Sensed us.”
“I need a drink,” I mutter, rubbing my temples.
“What Cain is saying is right. This isn’t just Anathema hunting vampires. They’ve been hunting us—more specifically—you,” Viktor says, his gaze pinning me.
He continues, his voice cracking with desperation.
“The myths, the legends, they’re all wrong.
They don’t just hunt our kind. They’ve been…
deleting us as they search. Searching for you.
Like scratching names off a list until they find the one they want.
” He shakes his head, as if he still can’t wrap his mind around it.
“I don’t know why, and I don’t know what any of this has to do with Evelynn, but I scanned the first few pages of this book.
I can’t read it, but on the third page is a picture of you. ”
Viktor carefully turns the thin, delicate pages and rotates the book to face me.
I stare at it, and it takes everything in me not to stumble back.
“Impossible,” I breathe.
I drag out a chair and sit before my legs can betray me.
“Nothing is impossible, brother,” Cain says quietly.
It takes me a moment to gather myself. I shake my head, forcing my focus back into place.
“The nun hurt Hex?” I ask, remembering why I called this Court in the first place.
“No. Anathema have scouts,” Echo grits out. “Scouts that are our kind. That somehow made him bleed like a mortal.”
Cain sits forward. “That can’t be.”
Echo looks at him. “It is. We saw it. They had weapons, like nothing I’ve ever seen. Blades with white flames. It sliced through Hex’s arm like butter. He screamed when it touched him. I’ve never heard him—or any of us—make a sound like that.”
Echo’s haunted gaze fixes on the table.
“His hand turned to dust,” he continues. “Just… crumbled. Floated down to the ground like black confetti. Blood poured from him like a waterfall.”
I swallow, feeling at a loss for the first time in my existence. I don’t know what to do. How to give them the reassurance they need, when my own head is full of questions and fear about how we’re supposed to defeat something like this.
A knock at the door draws my attention up. Diesel enters, his fingers wrapped around his neck.
“Can someone else feed him now?” he asks. “Any more, and I think I’m going to pass out. Also, Prez, I got a call from Murray. He asked when our next delivery will be.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, rubbing my face.
With all of this going on, I forgot about our business. Our biker business. We may be vampires, but we still need money. We still have a presence to uphold in this town.
“One of you go to Hex. Rook, Echo, and Shade, deliver Murray his order. Make sure he pays in full. Warn him there may be a slight delay in the next shipment,” I order.
“I’ll go see to Hex. I’ll try to read more of this book while he feeds,” Viktor says, standing and pocketing the book as he leaves. Rook and Shade aren’t far behind him.
“Silas, Marko, Clutch, go feed and stock up our resources. Go unseen. Leave no trail,” I continue. My mind is still swimming. “Diesel, go with them. You need to feed and replenish.”
They all nod and leave. Leaving only Cain and me in the room.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I ask.
Cain shrugs. “If I knew, I’d say. Go be with her. There isn’t anything we can do right now.”
I get to my feet. “Go feed, brother. I can sense your hunger,” I add as I pass him.
“Bossy bastard,” he scoffs.
My lips twitch in a faint smile, but right now I don’t want blood.
I want her.
Need her.
I enter my room silently and find her freshly showered, wearing one of my black button-down shirts. My bed is cleaned and made with fresh sheets.
She spins on her heel, sensing she isn’t alone. Her cheeks flush, and a small, hesitant smile plays at her lips.
“I, er… showered and didn’t have anything, so I borrowed this,” she says, lifting the hem of the shirt slightly.
It sits mid-thigh. “And when I came out of the bathroom, the bed had already been cleaned and fresh sheets put on. I didn’t even hear anyone come in.
” She keeps talking, words tumbling out.
I walk toward her, moving at a slower, more human pace, fighting every urge to move at vampire speed and take her into my arms.
“Thankfully, the door was shut, and I didn’t flash anyone, and at some point, do you think someone could get my clothes?
” she rambles on, as if her own voice might protect her.
“It’s not like you are going to let me leave at any point.
How’s Hex? Did he survive? You really should have taken him to hos—”
I snap before she can finish.
One step. Then another.
Her back hits the wall, and the sound cuts her off better than any command.
I take her mouth with mine, hard and unyielding, stealing the rest of her sentence like it was never hers to finish. The kiss is all heat and control. I lock my hand loosely around her throat—not tight enough to hurt—but just enough to remind her who she belongs to.
I feel her breath hitch, her pulse spike with arousal as she melts into me.
This is what I wanted.
Holding her there, making it clear.
She is mine.