2. Wrapped in vanilla stubbornness.
Chapter two
Wrapped in vanilla stubbornness...
Luka
T he hunter’s weight settled against Luka’s chest like a fevered stone, all sharp angles and burning skin beneath tattered fabric.
The broken human’s pulse hammered against Luka’s sternum—erratic, desperate, the rhythm of something dying.
Even unconscious, tension carved lines around his eyes, jaw clenched against invisible enemies.
Protect this one , his beast murmured, curious rather than hungry. He belongs with us .
Luka had expected satisfaction when their game finally ended. Instead, something hollow expanded behind his ribs, cold and unsettling. The feeling didn’t make sense, so he let it flow through him without analysis. Feelings rarely required logic.
The hunter’s head lolled as Luka adjusted his grip, exposing the bandaged stump where his left hand should have been. Yellowish fluid seeped through filthy gauze, tinged with blood and reeking gas. The stubborn fool had been treating infected flesh with gasoline.
Luka knelt carefully, laying him on cracked asphalt to examine him properly.
His fingers found the hunter’s throat, counting the frantic pulse beneath skin that radiated heat like a furnace.
Temperature dangerously high. Breathing shallow, too quick.
The infection smell that had been building for weeks now screamed of imminent death.
Sepsis.
He unwrapped the sodden bandage, revealing angry red flesh beneath. The amputation site showed no signs of professional care—ragged tissue, improperly cauterized, infection climbing toward the elbow in furious streaks.
His beast stirred, protective rather than predatory. This one fights. Even dying, he fights .
Luka found himself leaning closer, inhaling. Beneath the rot-sweet smell of dying tissue and sour fever sweat, something else lingered. Something uniquely him—metallic determination wrapped in vanilla stubbornness, fear threaded through with savage hope.
The scent pulled at something deep in his chest.
For weeks, Luka had moved through the city’s shadows with careful purpose, distributing care packages to homeless encampments.
Sandwiches in wax paper, water bottles, clean socks, basic medical supplies.
The work satisfied something essential in him—helping society’s discarded, providing comfort to the forgotten.
His beast approved of protecting the vulnerable.
That his mental catalog of potential feeding targets was equally practical didn’t contradict the impulse. Which humans were healthy enough to survive blood loss, which were unlikely to be missed. Care took many forms.
The hunter had been following him for weeks now, a persistent shadow with increasingly erratic attack patterns. At first, Luka assumed the hunter would give up or succumb to his obvious infection. When neither happened, curiosity replaced caution.
Who was this stubborn human? Why did he persist despite his deteriorating condition? No backup, no support structure—just dogged determination and crossbow bolts that came closer each night.
The game had become Luka’s favorite distraction from Matteo’s worsening condition.
While his twin withdrew deeper into silence and refused blood, Luka found himself anticipating the hunter’s ambush attempts.
He’d deliberately triggered the hunter’s warning systems, allowed himself to be spotted, even taken a bolt to the ribs to extend their encounters.
Now the hunter lay broken at his feet, fever burning through his too-thin frame. Game over.
Luka touched the wound on his side where tonight’s bolt had pierced him. Already healing, barely a twinge of discomfort. He could walk away. Let nature take its course. The smart choice.
Instead, he gathered the hunter into his arms again.
The hunter’s head found Luka’s shoulder, breathing ragged against his neck. Up close, beneath infection and gasoline, other scents emerged—gunpowder, metal, and something achingly familiar that made his beast pace restlessly.
He smelled like Caleb Walsh, the mousy human who had captured the heart of the unofficial head of their little vampire family.
But he also smelled sad, and angry, and alone.
Nick Walsh . The Society operative gone rogue after he chose to save Caleb rather than watch him burn alive.
Luka hadn’t witnessed the massacre, but he certainly helped with the clean up, and he distinctly remembered finding a severed hand in a gas soaked room near the body of a Society operative whose brains had been unceremoniously splattered on the wall.
The entire family had been searching—checking hospitals, morgues, homeless shelters, for someone matching Nick’s description.
Luka studied Nick’s face more carefully.
High cheekbones, strong jaw—features that might have been more handsome before malnutrition and fever hollowed them out.
A purple scar stretched across his throat, jagged and deliberate.
Not a feeding mark. It was a killing blow, though from the edges of it, a hesitant one.
Something fierce and protective unfurled in Luka’s chest.
Stupid. This human had tried to kill him and would probably try again if he survived. He was trained to destroy vampires like Luka.
Yet the thought of leaving Nick to die alone in this empty lot felt wrong. Maybe because Matteo was suffering and Luka couldn’t fix it. Maybe because ending their game this way left him hollow. Maybe because something about Nick Walsh intrigued his beast in ways he didn’t understand.
Luka shifted Nick’s weight and retrieved his phone one-handed, fingers moving across the screen.
Are you working tonight? Need forgotten ward access.
Jae-Jae
Yes, but why? This sounds like trouble.
Medical emergency. Unofficial patient.
Jae-Jae
How unofficial? Scale of 1 to vampire?
Human hunter. Infected. Will die without help.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared. Finally:
Jae-Jae
...This is really stupid, Luka.
I know.
He pocketed the phone and surveyed the area.
The hospital was four miles northeast—minutes at vampire speed, but carrying Nick complicated things.
The hunter’s heartbeat grew more erratic with each passing moment, his breathing increasingly labored.
The temporary pain relief Luka had provided earlier wouldn’t address the underlying infection.
Nick mumbled something incoherent, head turning restlessly against Luka’s shoulder. His hand gripped Luka’s shirt, fingers curling into fabric, seeking comfort even unconscious from a monster he’d been hunting.
You’re a puzzle, Nick Walsh.
He started moving, abandoning all pretense of appearing human.
Vampire speed while carrying someone required careful balance, but urgency mattered more than grace.
Nick’s weight felt right somehow. Luka could trace individual ribs, feel the sharp angles of hip bones where flesh should have cushioned them.
How long had he been living like this? Alone, infected, slowly dying while continuing his one-man crusade against vampires?
Nick’s head shifted, streetlight catching the angry scar. The mark reminded Luka of Matteo, of all the ways trauma could break a person. His brother had withdrawn into silence; this hunter had channeled his pain into violence.
Different responses. Same fundamental wound.
Luka moved through shadows with practiced ease, listening for potential threats and mentally mapping their locations. Police patrol four blocks east. Teenagers by the convenience store. Two familiar vampire scents hunting north of the river—family members, not threats.
Nick’s fever spiked higher. His skin burned against Luka’s skin, his heartbeat stuttering dangerously. Sweat soaked through his clothes despite the cool air. Each breath came harder than the last.
Stay with me, hunter. The game isn’t over yet.
Nick’s only response to the silent command was a low moan.
The hospital loomed ahead, windows glowing like beacons. The forgotten ward occupied the eastern wing—an abandoned section awaiting renovation, accessible through service corridors near the pediatric ICU where Jae-sung worked. It was perfect for unofficial patients who couldn’t exist in the system.
Antibiotics. IV fluids. Surgical supplies to clean the amputation site. Luka cataloged what they’d need, his medical knowledge limited, but combined with Jae’s expertise, it might enough to save this stubborn human’s life.
Why does this matter so much?
He paused at the hospital’s edge, seeking the service entrance. Nick’s head lolled against his shoulder, unconscious but restless. His hand still clutched Luka’s shirt, knuckles white with tension even in his weakened state.
Almost there. The thought provided comfort even when directed at someone unconscious.
A figure appeared at the service door—Jae-sung in blue scrubs, expression shifting from concern to shock as recognition hit.
“That’s Nick Walsh,”Jae hissed, holding the door open.“Marcus’s boyfriend’s brother. I’ve been running hospital searches for him for six months. Are you insane?”
?Probably,?Luka admitted, signing with one hand as he carried Nick through the doorway.?He needs help.?
“He needs a real hospital and a phone call to Marcus,”Jae countered, but led them down darkened corridors toward the pediatric wing.“If the family finds out you’ve been hiding him—”
?They won’t.?Luka replied.?Not from me. Not from you. Not until he’s stable.?
Jae-sung’s disapproval radiated like heat, but he continued guiding them through abandoned hallways.“Room at the end. I prepped what I could without raising suspicions. You owe me.”
Big time.
The forgotten ward smelled of dust and disinfectant. Plastic sheeting covered obsolete equipment, construction materials lined walls, renovation eternally postponed. In the center of chaos, one room glowed with soft light—Jae’s makeshift medical bay.
Luka laid Nick gently on the hospital bed. The hunter’s face contorted as Jae attached monitoring equipment with practiced efficiency. Numbers and lines appeared on screens, confirming what Luka already knew.
Nick was dying.
“Sepsis, mostly likely,”Jae-sung confirmed, inserting an IV line into the top of Nick’s hand.“Infection’s in his bloodstream. We need to clean that amputation site, start broad-spectrum antibiotics, and hope he’s strong enough to fight.”
Nick’s eyes flew open suddenly, wild and unfocused. His remaining hand lashed out, catching Jae’s wrist in a surprisingly strong grip for someone half-dead.
His gaze landed on Luka. Recognition flickered through fever haze, something like betrayal crossing his features before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed against pillows.
“Why are you doing this?”Jae asked quietly, completely unfazed as he moved on to hang an IV bag of fluids.“He’ll try to kill you when he wakes up.”
When. Not if. Luka appreciated the optimism.
?I don’t know,?he admitted, watching Nick’s chest rise and fall.?He’s been following me for weeks. Almost like a game.?
Jae-sung shook his head, focusing on cleaning Nick’s infected stump with methodical care.“This isn’t a game, Luka. If he survives, he’ll try to kill you again. If the Society finds him here, they’ll come for all of us.”
?I know.?
“And you’re still staying?”
Jae was right, the answer should have been simple. Leave Nick in Jae’s capable hands, call Marcus and Caleb, and return to his twin. Resume normal routine.
Instead, he pulled a chair beside Nick’s bed.
?I’m not ready for the game to end.?
Jae-sung sighed, muttering something uncomplimentary in Korean.“I can stay until my shift officially starts, then I’ll have to go. Someone might notice me missing from the ward.”
Luka nodded, eyes never leaving Nick’s face.
Nick stirred restlessly, mumbling something too low even for vampire hearing to pick up. His fingers twitched at his sides, seeking weapons that weren’t there as his heart rate spiked on the monitor.
Luka found himself leaning forward, studying the hunter’s face more intently. The scar across his throat. Smaller marks scattered across visible skin. Hollow cheeks and dark circles that spoke of prolonged suffering.
Something protective stirred in his chest again. He reached out, hesitated, then gently brushed sweat-soaked hair from Nick’s forehead. The hunter’s skin burned against his cool fingers.
Fever breaking ? His beast wondered.
Outside, night deepened toward dawn. Luka felt it in his bones, the instinctive pull toward shelter and darkness. He should leave. Find safety before sunrise. Return home to his brother who needed him.
Instead, he settled deeper into the chair, watching the rise and fall of Nick’s chest. For reasons he couldn’t articulate, this felt right. This human—this hunter—was something important. A puzzle that needed solving.
I’ll be here when you wake. And then we’ll see what comes next.