11. Everyones distracted by hunter drama.
Chapter eleven
Everyone's distracted by hunter drama...
Luka
L uka settled into the van’s rear seat, his gaze fixed on Nick. The hunter’s eyes had gone vacant, staring at nothing while his fingers dug into his thigh. He waved toward Nick, careful to keep his movements slow and deliberate.
No response.
He wanteddesperatelyto reach out, to ground Nick with touch the way he had in the hospital bathroom. But after hearing Owen’s vile words—“a monster’s cocksleeve”—Luka kept his hands to himself.
“Five minutes to sunrise,”Ophelia called from the driver’s seat, her voice breaking through Luka’s thoughts.“Matoskah, get back there.”
Matoskah movedgracefullyfrom the passenger seat to the cargo area behind them, the only sound accompanying him the soft jingle of beads adorning his leather braid wraps.
He grabbed a handle from the ceiling of the van, pulling down a thick sheet of opaque canvas to block the impending light from invading their space.
The sudden movement seemed to snap Nick back to partial awareness. His body tensed, eyes widening at the white-haired vampire sealing them in a dim sanctuary from the approaching dawn.
Nick’s breathing quickened, shallow and rapid. His gaze darted around the now-enclosed space, cataloging exits that didn’t exist. His clenched hand drifted down, digging into his knee as though he were trying to fight some instinct gripping him.
Matoskah tilted his head, studying Nick. His blue eyes narrowed as he extended pale hand toward Nick’s face, not touching but feeling the air between them.
?Stop!?Luka snapped, the movement cutting through the dim space.
Matoskah jerked his hand back as if burned. The whites of his eyes flashed black as he winced, shoulders hunching forward.
“His mind is a storm,”Matoskah whispered. The words carried weight beyond their simplicity—pain, as if he’d touched a live wire.
Luka glanced at Nick, who pressed himself further against the van wall, watching their exchange with wary, calculating eyes. The hunter’s breathing steadied.
?Sign, please,?Luka said, pointing between them.
The van settled into silence, broken only by the rumble of tires on asphalt and Nick’s measured breathing. Even Ophelia quieted—unusual for someone whonormallyfilled every silence with commentary or complaints. Her focus remained on the road ahead, navigating the pre-dawn streets.
The van hit a pothole that sent them all lurchingsideways. Nick’s knuckles whitened as he dug into his knee, but his face remained blank.
?DMV should have never given her a license,?Luka said to Matoskah, his movements casual, trying to create some sense of normalcy.
Matoskah’s lips twitched—the closest thing to a smile Luka had seen from him in weeks.?Then she’d just drive without one.?
Another pothole jolted them, somehow worse than the first.
?Does she aim for them??Luka asked, eyebrows raised.
Matoskah shrugged.?She says it keeps passengers alert.?
The easy exchange felt good, familiar. They’d always been comfortable with silence between them, no need to fill space with unnecessary words.
Unlike Jae, who chatteredconstantly, Matoskah understood the value of quiet.
It made their friendship easy, predictable in the best way.
That he was helping now, when he could havesimplywalked away, meant more than Luka could express.
***
Luka watched Nick as they entered the old ranch house from the garage: his eyes swept the space with mechanical precision while his body held itself in careful, controlled lines. But he didn’t curl inward, didn’t make himself small. Some part of him was still fighting to surface.
The old farmhouse welcomed them with the musty embrace of long abandonment.
Dust danced in thin shafts of morning light filtering through boarded windows.
The living room sprawled before them with its faded floral wallpaper peeling at the seams, sagging furniture draped in yellowed sheets, and floors that creaked with every step.
Marcusestablished this safe house years ago, but it felt untouched by time, preserved in a state of permanent disuse.
?This way,?Luka said, not expecting a response but offering the gestureanyway.
He guided Nick through the dining room and into the kitchen where a small breakfast nook tucked into the corner caught his attention.
The space felt right—a built-in bench seat surrounded by walls on two sides, a small table creating a barrier on the third.
It offered both protection and visibility.
Nick slid onto the bench without prompting, his back pressingfirmlyagainst the corner where the walls met. His gaze fixed on the table’s surface, but his hand remained carefully positioned: visible, non-threatening, waiting for direction that wouldn’t come.
Luka hesitated. He needed to speak with Ophelia before she did anything impulsive—like calling Marcusimmediately—but leaving Nick alone in this fractured state felt like abandonment when the man seemed so vulnerable.
Luka found a notepad in a kitchen drawer, its pages yellowed with age. He wrotequickly:‘ I’ll be back in 5 minutes. Keep breathing. You’re safe here. Count the breaths if it helps.’
He placed the note in Nick’s line of sight, waiting until Nick’s eyes focused on the paper before stepping away.
The hunter didn’t acknowledge the message beyond that momentary glance, but Luka caught the almost imperceptible straightening of his shoulders as some part of him registered the promise.
As Luka moved toward the garage, his beast stirred, reluctant to leave Nick even for a moment. Protect , it insisted. Stay .
Luka agreed, but Ophelia’s silence during the drive had been ominous. He needed to manage this situation before it spiraled beyond his control.
The garage felt different when Luka stepped back inside—charged with Ophelia’s particular brand of restless energy.
She stood beside the van, checking her weapons with movements that looked casual but held an edge ofirritation.
Her explosion of brassy curls caught the dim light as she examined awickedlycurved blade, her doll-like face wearing its usual expression of perpetual boredom.
Matoskah leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching her. His pale blue eyes tracked her movements with the focus of a man calculating blast radiuses.
“So,”Ophelia said without looking up from her knife,“want to explain why you’ve gonecompletelyinsane?”
The question was delivered with her typical bluntness, but Luka caught the undercurrent of genuine concern. She wasn’t just being difficult—she was trying to understand if he’d lost his grip on realityentirely.
?Define insane,?Luka said, settling against the van.
“Oh, I don’t know.”Ophelia’s voice dripped with mock thoughtfulness as she tested the blade’s edge against her thumb.
“Disappearing for days without telling anyone, harboring a Society hunter who tried to kill Marcus—oh, and happens to be Caleb’s brother—andapparentlystarting a war with said Society in a hospital parking garage.
”She looked up then, large brown eyes glinting with what might have been amusement. “Did I miss anything?”
?He’s not Society anymore,?Luka insisted.?They were hunting him too.?
“Right.”Ophelia sheathed the knife.“Because shooting your handler in the head is such a great way to maintain employment.” She tilted her head, studying him.“The real question is why do you care what happens to him?”
The directness of it caught Luka off guard. Because Nick needed him? Because his beast claimed the broken hunter as theirs? Because watching someonesystematicallydestroy themselves felt too familiar?
?It’s complicated.?
“Bullshit.”Her laugh held no humor.“Everything’s complicated. Try again.”
Matoskah shifteduncomfortably, drawing their attention. When Ophelia raised an eyebrow at him, he spokequietly.“The hunter’s mind is... fractured.Badly.”
“Fractured how?”Ophelia’s voice sharpened with interest.
Matoskah’s jaw tightened. Herarelydiscussed what he saw when he touched other minds—too many people tried to use his abilities for their own purposes in the past. The fact he was sharing what he saw spoke to how disturbed he’d been by contact with Nick’s mind.
“Three different people fighting for control of one body,” Matoskah saidslowly.“All of them damaged.”
“Lovely. And you think you can fix him?”she asked Luka.
The weight settled in Luka’s chest before the words fully formed.
How many years had he spent trying to fix Matteo?
Watching his twin waste away, refusing every offer of help, every attempt at intervention?
Eighty years of failure, and now it seemed like he was choosing Nick over Matteo’s current crisis.
?I can get him somewhere safe,?Luka said. The limited goal felt achievable in a way that“fixing”didn’t.
“Safe from what? The Society? His own brain? Because one of those issignificantlyeasier than the other.”
He could always trust Ophelia to cut straight to the heart of it. The Society was a known threat—traceable, fightable. Nick’s fractured mind was another story.
?Both,? Luka admitted.
Ophelia studied him for a long moment, and Luka had the uncomfortable feeling she was reading far more than he intended to reveal.
At sixteen, she’d already learned to dissect people’s motivations with surgical precision—a survival skill honed by years of being the only human in a family of vampires.
“Matoskah,”she said, not looking away from Luka.“How’s Jae?”
The question seemed random until Luka saw Matoskah’s hands stillcompletely. His friend’s pale eyes went distant, protective.“Fine,”he saidstiffly. “He’s been double sanitizing things around the house since the hunter cut him, but he’ll be back to normal in a few weeks.”
“Good.”Ophelia’s smile was all teeth.“I’d hate for anything to happen to him while everyone’s distracted by hunter drama.”
The threat was subtle but unmistakable. Luka felt ice settle in his chest. Ophelia wasn’t just evaluating his mental state—she was calculating whether his choices endangered the people she cared about.
?Two of the Society operatives are dead,?Luka said.?The third was wounded. Jae was never their target.?
“This time.”Ophelia pushed off from the van, moving closer.“But you’veessentiallygone rogue, Luka. You’ve abandoned your business, your responsibilities, your twin.”Her voice dropped.“Marcus doesn’t even know where you are.”
Matteo needed him—always needed him for decades—and here he was, choosing a broken hunter over his own family. But the thought of watching his twinslowlystarve himself for another decade made hurt twist in his chest.
?Matteo has Vincent and Petrov,?Luka said, the movement sharp with defensiveness.?Nick has no one.?
“Nick has a brother who’s been looking for him for six months,”Ophelia pointed out.“Want me to call him?”
The suggestion sent alarm spiking through Luka. Nick wasbarelyholding himself together; confronting Caleb now would shatter what little progress they made.
?No,? Luka said.
“I thought not.”Ophelia’s expression gentled—not sympathy, but awareness of a tactical consideration.“So what’s your play here? Hide himindefinitely?”
Luka’s hands moved before he’d formed the thought.?Peoria. The neutral hunters.?
Ophelia blinked, genuine surprise crossing her features for the first time since they arrived.“Haley’s people? That’sactuallynot terrible.”She paused, considering.“They won’t ask questions, and the Society won’t think to look there.”
?Will you help??Luka asked.
The question hung between them. Ophelia’s help wasn’t givenlightly—she weighed costs and benefits with the cold precision of someone who learned early that survival meant choosing sides.
“Here’s the deal,”she saidfinally, pulling a burner phone from her jacket.“You get three days to get your hunter stable and delivered to Peoria. Three days, Luka. After that, I’m telling my dad and explaining why one of his people has gone dark.”
The ultimatum wasn’t cruelty—it was strategy. Three days gave him time to rest after the fight, make contact with the Peoria hunters, and travelsafelyunder cover of darkness. It also put a hard deadline on his self-imposed exile from family responsibilities.
?Why help at all?? Luka asked, genuinely curious.
Ophelia’s smile turned sharp.“Because watching you try to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved is getting old. At least this one mightactuallysurvive the process.”
The words stung because they carried truth. Matteo’s refusal to help himself was a chronic wound in their family, accepted but never healing. Nick’s damage was an acute trauma with identifiable sources. Fixable, maybe, with enough time and patience.
?Three days,?Luka agreed, taking the burner phone.
“Don’t make me regret this,”Ophelia warned. But when she turned toward the house, Luka caught the ghost of approval in her expression.
Matoskah remained behind as Ophelia disappeared through the door.
“Be careful with the hunter,”he said.“His mind... it’s dangerous. Not just to him.”
Luka nodded. He saw enough of Nick’s fractured psyche to understand the warning. But he’d also glimpsed what was worth saving beneath the damage—moments of genuine humor, curiosity, connection. The person Nick had been before someonecarved him into pieces.
?I’ll be careful,?he promised.
Matoskah followed Ophelia’s path into the house. Luka remained in the garage, feeling the weight of his choice settling across his shoulders. Three days to get Nick stable enough for transport.
His beast stirredrestlessly, content with the same certainty that drove him to help Nick in the first place. Protect , it insisted. This one is ours .