Chapter 17 #2
Every time I thought about him, my chest tightened and my mouth watered at the same time. Him keeping his distance somehow made me want him more, and not just physically.
I wanted that connection again, that dizzy, overwhelming feeling of being completely consumed by someone, and I didn’t even fully understand why.
Before Lark could pry further, I shoved the conversation somewhere safer.
“Actually,” I said quickly, “I wanted to ask you something.” Her teasing expression faded immediately.
“Did you see anything that night?” I asked. “Anybody near me?”
Lark’s mouth tightened, her eyes drifting away from the screen while she slowly shook her head.
“I wish I had,” she whispered. Her fingers curled against her sleeve.
“I keep replaying it over and over, trying to remember something useful.” Her voice cracked. “Anything I could think of.” She swallowed hard before continuing. “I just… had this feeling I needed to check on you.”
Nathan shifted closer to her immediately, resting a hand on her shoulder in comfort.
“So I made him drive me there after we were done at the club.” Her breathing became uneven again. “And then I saw you.”
Just remembering it had the color draining from her face. Her voice broke into a sob. “You were covered in blood, Via. Your hands were clutching at your stomach, trying to…” She squeezed her eyes shut hard. “God.”
I sat up straighter.
“You don’t have to—”
“But I don’t remember everything you said,” she rushed out, frustrated tears brightening her eyes again. “You kept trying to talk, but it was broken up and I couldn’t understand half of it.”
Her fingers pressed against her forehead like she could physically force the memory out.
“I only remember you saying Winstale, so that was where I took you.”
A small guilty smile tugged at my mouth, and I shook my head. “It's okay. Like I said, I’ll remember eventually. I just thought I would ask.”
Lark still looked unconvinced, but she nodded anyway.
After another ten minutes of her threatening to personally murder anyone who hurt me while Nathan, a worried look on his face, tried to calm her down, we finally hung up with promises to meet soon. Finally, the room went quiet.
I let myself fall backward across the bed, staring straight up at the massive glass ceiling overhead.
Nothing about this felt real. Not the room. Not the view. Not the fact that less than two days ago I’d been sleeping beside engine parts, and now I was living in a hidden penthouse owned by the Syndicate.
A nervous flutter kept moving through my chest every time I thought about it too hard. Like reality was winding up for a punch.
Then my phone buzzed with an incoming message.
Rack: I’ll be there in ten minutes.
I shot upright so fast the blankets tangled around my legs.
“Oh shit.”
One second later, I was sprinting across the room… or trying to.
Instead, I launched myself halfway into a wall because vampire speed apparently required finesse.
“Okay,” I muttered while peeling myself off the wall. “Need to work on that.”
By the time I showered and dressed, I’d accidentally overshot three doorways, nearly ripped the bathroom handle off, and scared myself twice while looking in the mirror because I moved too fast.
Still, when I tugged the jeans up properly and looked down at the outfit Rack had left me, my mouth curved despite myself.
White tank top. Dark fitted jeans. Black leather jacket. Rose designs running down both sleeves.
My fingers slowly brushed over the stitching, and a smile threatened hard enough that I bit my lip to hold it back.
How the hell did he know I’d love this?
Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he got lucky… but still. It felt… thoughtful. Dangerously thoughtful.
Two minutes later, I headed downstairs just as the front door opened. Rack stepped inside, immediately slowing when his eyes landed on me.
For a second, he just stared, not in a creepy way, though. More like the sight of me had caught him off guard.
“You ready?” he asked finally, holding his hand out casually.
I decided right then to test my speed again. Big mistake.
My hand snapped into his so fast I nearly yanked him forward, and when my fingers closed around his, vampire strength kicked in automatically and I squeezed way too hard. My eyes widened.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Rack’s whole face lit up before I could finish. “Looks like you’re getting the hang of it.” The warmth in his voice caught me off guard.
I stared up at him for a second too long, getting distracted again by those strange midnight dusk-colored eyes streaked with silver. How was someone like him this gentle? Was it really just because I was his Flame? The concept still made no sense in my head.
He gave my hand a small tug toward the door.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got a lot to get.”
***
The drive started quietly. I kept sneaking glances at him while the city blurred outside the window. Eventually, curiosity won.
“So…” I started carefully, “which do you like better? Your bike or your car?”
Silence.
“I mean—” I rushed out awkwardly, regretting my decision to talk, “they’re both incredible pieces of machinery, so obviously it’s hard to choo—”
I finally looked fully at him and nearly jumped out of my skin. Rack wasn’t even touching the steering wheel. Both hands rested in his lap while the car turned smoothly on its own.
“What the hell?!”
He blinked at me, then down at the wheel, then back at me like he’d forgotten normal people couldn’t casually magic-drive.
“Why are you asking?” he asked instead.
“I—”
The old instinct hit instantly. Backtrack. Don’t pry. Don’t annoy the powerful supe. Halfway through shrinking into myself, I remembered I wasn’t human anymore.
The realization stiffened my spine, and I fully turned toward him this time.
“I was trying to get to know you,” I shot back. “You know, like we talked about?”
His brows lifted slightly, my fingers tightening on my thighs.
“But never mind. I guess I shouldn’t bo—”
His hand slid over mine before I could pull away. Warm. Steady… and annoyingly strong when I tried to yank free.
“I like the bike more,” he admitted softly. He was acting like everything was normal, so I stopped fighting him. “The car’s just better for today.”
His mouth tilted slightly at one corner. “Maybe I’ll take you for a bike ride sometime.”
The thought sent a strange little flutter through my stomach, and his fingers loosened, slipping between mine more carefully this time.
“I’m not really used to this,” he admitted after a second.
“To what?”
“Someone wanting to know me.”
The honesty in his voice made me look over.
“Most people,” he explained quietly, “only want to talk to me to gain information or access to Calix or the Syndicate.”
I hung on his every word, fascinated by this glimpse inside him.
“It’s my job to protect them,” he said, his gaze fixed ahead now. “So I usually assume people are after something when they try to get to know me.”
My shoulders slowly relaxed. That… actually made sense.
Lark, being stunningly gorgeous, dealt with the same thing when we went out on the weekend.
People always wanted something from her, and eventually I became the unofficial bouncer keeping creeps and the users away.
I couldn’t imagine living like that every single day with every single conversation. That had to be tiring.
“Ask me anything,” Rack said suddenly. He finally put one hand back on the wheel, though the car probably didn’t need it. “I’ll answer honestly.”
Something inside me eased after that, so I started small.
Favorite color. Favorite food. Favorite music. Every answer came out easier, and I got a little more of him.
Sometimes, he answered immediately, but other times, he’d pause thoughtfully, brows pinching together while he debated between options seriously enough to make me laugh.
Somewhere between favorite movies and whether he preferred storms or sunny weather, I realized something quietly unsettling… I liked learning about him.
“Do you have any family?” I asked after a quiet stretch of road. “Brothers or sisters?”
The easy smile he’d been wearing faltered. Not fully, just enough for something older to slip through.
His fingers tightened once against the steering wheel before relaxing again.
“My parents died protecting the previous Syndicate bosses,” he said quietly. The air in the car shifted.
His eyes stayed on the road, but his jaw worked once before he continued.
“Whenever the former Desmond boss, Rayla, was pregnant, enemies saw it as an opportunity. A weakness.” His thumb tapped once against the wheel. “When she was carrying Aniyah, my parents stepped in during an attack.”
He paused there. Not dramatically, but more like the memory had physically gotten caught in his throat.
“They saved her,” he finished softly, “but they didn’t survive it.”
My teeth sank into my bottom lip before I even realized I was doing it.
Rack’s hand lifted from the console, his thumb brushing lightly across my mouth.
“Don’t do that,” he murmured. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
The touch made my chest tighten strangely. He leaned back again, gaze drifting forward.
“I bounced around between some mage families but eventually ended up with the Syndicate bosses. They took me in and raised me with their children.” A faint breath escaped him, almost amused. “Everyone treated us like siblings growing up, but there was always an understanding underneath it.”
His mouth tilted faintly.
“I was supposed to stand beside one of them eventually and be their number two. A high rank in the Syndicate, only reserved for the most loyal or powerful.”
“And you ended up with Calix?”
A quieter smile crossed his face then. “Ezra and Calix practically fought over it for years.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
His shoulders lifted slightly. “In their own way.”
With the memory, something warmer entered his expression.
“In the end, Ezra backed off first.” His eyes flicked toward me briefly. “Not because she lost, but because she knew Calix needed me more.”