24. Everyones blood was full of cocaine.
Chapter twenty-four
Everyone's blood was full of cocaine...
Luka
T he trailer felt impossibly small with all four of them inside.
Luka moved around the cramped kitchen with careful efficiency, spooning what had to be four tablespoons of sugar into Nick’s coffee.
His hands shook from the frustrated energy of needing Marcus to translate when he and Nick developed their own language of whistles and touches and understanding glances.
Nick followed him inside, looking confused when Luka gestured to the chair across the small table rather than beside him.
The hurt that flickered across Nick’s features made Luka’s chest tighten, but this conversation required eye contact, required Nick to see his face while Marcus gave voice to words Luka couldn’t speak himself.
Luka settled into his chair and immediately began signing, pointing first to Marcus, then himself, then making the sign for talking. He pointed to his eyes, then Nick’s, trying to convey that he wanted Nick to watch him even though Marcus would be doing the speaking.
Marcus translated:“Luka wants you to look at him while we talk. He’ll be signing, and I’ll translate everything.”
Nick’s scent shifted, confusion mixed with hurt and something that might have been betrayal. His floral undertones faded as sharper notes emerged. He thinks I’m shutting him out.
Luka signed quickly, and Marcus’s voice followed:“I don’t like doing this. I prefer our way. But this is complicated, and I need to make sure you understand everything.”
He picked up the coffee cup, took a sip, and blinked at the sweetness. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Luka took a breath he didn’t need and began signing. Marcus’s voice followed, measured and careful:“I know the old one who hurt you. Iwasn’tsure before, not until Marcus spoke his name yesterday and I saw how you reacted.”
Nick’s cup paused halfway to his lips. His scent sharpened further, fear bleeding through.“You know him?”
Luka nodded and continued.“I worked for him. We all did—Marcus, Vincent, Petrov, Matteo, and me. For about thirty years.”
The coffee cup clattered against the table as Nick set it down too hard.“Worked for him how?”
Thiswasthe part Lukahadbeen dreading.
He signed slowly, letting Marcus find the right words:“Old ones. Vampires who are three hundred years or older—they control territory in major cities. It’s about survival.
Safety in numbers, controlling hunting grounds, making sure younger vampires don’t draw attention from police or hunters. ”
Nick’s eyes never left Luka’s face, but his body languagewaschanging. Shoulders squaring, hand positioning itself carefully on the table.
“Wewereenforcers,”Marcus continued translating.“We made sure the younger ones didn’t go on feeding sprees, especially in the eighties when everyone’s bloodwasfull of cocaine. Kept the peace. Maintained the territory.”
“For thirty years,”Nick repeated, his voice flat.
Luka nodded, fighting the urge to reach across the table and touch Nick’s hand. But the distancewasnecessary—Nick needed to see his face, needed to read his expressions.
“Did he...”Nick swallowed hard.“Did he hurt you too?”
Nick’s concern wasn’t for himself—it was for Luka. Even learning that Luka worked for his tormentor, Nick’s first instinct was protective worry.
Luka’s hands moved again, almost frantically and Marcus’s voice carried his urgency:“No. No, never like that. I maybe met him directly five times in thirty years. Most of our contactwaswith his lieutenants, other vampires who managed day-to-day operations. Hewas... administrative. Distant.”
Nick’s scent shifted again, this time toward something that smelled like relief mixed with confusion.“But Marcus—”His eyes flicked to the vampire across from Caleb.“You worked for him too. And now you’re with Caleb.”
Caleb’s hand found Marcus’s on the table, intertwining their fingers.“Nick, it’s not like that. Marcus isn’t—”
“I know,”Nick said, but his eyes remained fixed on Luka.“I can see that. But I need to understand how it works. The power structure. Whether...”He gestured helplessly.
“Working for an old one isn’t like being owned by one. Wehadour own lives, our own relationships. We just maintained order in his territory. Like police, but for vampires.”
“And when you left?”
“He let us go,”Marcus said, speaking for himself now rather than translating.“When we told him we wanted to establish ourselves downstate, he gave us his blessing.”
“Why did you leave?”Nick asked.
“Because we wanted something different. A community based on choice rather than obligation. A place where humans and vampires could coexist.”
“Like what you have with Caleb.”
“Like what I have with Caleb,”Marcus confirmed.
Nick looked down, but Luka could see him working through implications, connecting dots. “How long ago?”
“About fifteen years,”Marcus answered.“We’dbeen planning it for a while, but we wanted to make sure wehadenough resources to establish ourselves properly.”
Nickwasquiet for a moment, staring into his coffee. When he looked up, his expressionwascarefully neutral. “Okay. I think I get it.”
?Tell him I’m not going to let that bastard ever touch him again, that if he comes looking—?Luka began, but Marcus held up a hand.
“Luka,” Marcus said. “He’s dead.”
Luka’s hands froze mid-sign. The energy thathadbeen gathering itself for threats and protection and possible violence went still. What?
“Gianmarco Nicoletti died three years ago,”Marcus said, his voice gentle but firm.“I heard about it through the Chicago network—apparently the Society hit his main facility during daylight hours.”
Luka stared at Marcus, then at Nick, trying to process this information. Three years. Gianmarcohadbeen dead for three years, and Lukahadbeen unconsciously worried about a ghost.
Nick ran his fingers along his scarred throat.“They found me while I was bleeding out in the box. Itwaspart of their recruitment pitch—they killed the monster who hurt me, so I owed them.”
Relief flooded through Luka so suddenly he felt dizzy. No threat. No danger. He can’t hurt Nick anymore.
But as the relief faded, other questions rose. Luka signed quickly, and Marcus translated:“How did the Society manage it? Last we heard, theywerea small group. Maybe a dozen hunters, and theylost half their numbers when they attacked us eight years ago.”
Nick’s expression darkened.“They’re not small anymore. They’ve been recruiting, expanding, establishing cells in multiple cities. What happened at the community center could happen again anywhere.”
“How big?”Marcus asked, leaning forward.
“I don’t know. But Dominic Shaw commands at least fifty active hunters, probably more. And they’re well-funded, well-equipped.”Nick’s voice grew quiet.“They’re not the amateurs. They’re organized.”
“We need to get home,”Marcus said firmly.“Regroup. Figure out how to handle this.”
Luka nodded, then looked across the table at Nick. The distance between them felt enormous. He held Nick’s gaze and looked down at the empty seat beside him, hoping the invitation would be clear.
Nick understood without translation. He stood and moved around the table, settling in the chair beside Luka. The familiar scent of concrete and vanilla and flowers wrapped around Luka like a gentle weight.
“Better?” Nick asked quietly.
Luka nodded and reached for his notebook, writing:‘ Hate talking through Marcus. Prefer our way.’
Nick read the note and smiled—the first genuine smile Lukahadseen in hours.“Me too.”