Chapter 13 #3
Viking roared behind me, launching himself into another two that had crawled onto the balcony. Lucien’s precision was surgical, every move efficient, every strike lethal. Roman fought like a storm made flesh, unrelenting, calculated, deadly.
And Draugr… Draugr was a nightmare of his own, pure brutality, snapping bones like twigs, his black eyes empty of mercy.
The humans were screaming now, chaos erupting as the glamour fell from every demon in the room. But our men moved fast guiding, dragging, pushing people toward the exits. Ensuring that everyone present forgot what they saw.
“Volken!” Runa’s voice broke through the din, it was filled with fear and fury tangled together.
I turned in time to see a demon emerge from behind the bar, its claws raised, eyes locked on her.
My world narrowed to that single heartbeat.
I was across the room before the creature took another step. My knife buried itself in its throat, and I slammed it into the counter hard enough to splinter wood.
It shrieked, black ichor spraying across my arm before I drove the blade upward, silencing it.
When I looked up, Runa was pressed against the wall, her eyes wide, not in fear of the demon, but in something that looked a hell of a lot like fear for me.
I reached for her, voice rough. “You’re safe.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
Because even as the last demon fell, the scent of sulphur and rot still lingered, and every instinct in me screamed that this wasn’t random.
Someone had sent them here. Someone who knew where to strike.
And as I held Runa close, my jaw locked hard enough to crack.
The peace we’d tasted tonight had been nothing more than bait. And the night had come to collect. Tomorrow night we would go hunting.
Smoke still hung in the air like a veil of ash, the scent of demon blood and gunpowder thick enough to choke on.
Havoc…our club, our supposed sanctuary, looked like a warzone.
Bodies were gone, already burned to ash by the clean-up crew, but the echoes of the chaos still lived in every shattered glass and overturned table.
We stand in a rough half-circle, every one of us bloodstained, silent, vibrating with fury. Roman was the first to move, his eyes like cut obsidian as he raked his hand through his hair. “They dared to come here,” he muttered, voice low, lethal. “They dared to walk into our house.”
“Not just dared,” Draugr growled, his massive frame tense as a wire. “They knew where to find us. That wasn’t chance. That was a fucking message.”
Lucien’s jaw flexed. “Then the message was received. Now it’s our turn to reply.”
But before he could continue, Sorcha stepped forward, her hand on his arm, her expression tight with both fear and fury. “You’re all bleeding,” she said, voice sharp enough to cut through the testosterone-charged air. “Maybe save the posturing until everyone’s not half-dead.”
Lucien turned to her, the lethal gleam in his eyes softening instantly. “We’re fine.”
“No,” she shot back, “you’re angry. That’s not the same thing.”
Layla stood beside her, “She’s right,” she said, voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “We need to get out of here before anything else happens.”
Runa hovered near me, her honey-coloured eyes darting between the men, then back to me. “Volken…” she whispered, voice barely there, but I heard it. I always heard her.
I stepped closer, my hand finding her waist, grounding myself in her presence. “We’re leaving,” I told her quietly. “Now.”
Viking slammed his hand against the nearest wall, the sound cracking through the air like a gunshot. “They wanted to provoke us,” he snarled. “They wanted us off balance. Well, they fucking succeeded. And tomorrow, we end it.”
“Tomorrow,” Roman said, his tone sharp, commanding, “we hunt.”
The women exchanged worried glances. Layla’s fingers tightened around Roman’s wrist, her whisper fierce. “Not tonight. Please.”
That was enough to pull him back from the brink. He turned, jaw still tight, and gave her a small nod.
“Let’s move,” Draugr barked. “Now. Before the cops arrive and start asking questions.”
We began filing toward the back exit where the SUVs waited, our guards already positioned in tight formation. The night air outside was colder than before, thick with the metallic tang of blood and burnt ozone.
Runa’s hand was still in mine, her pulse racing under my thumb. I squeezed once, just enough to let her know I was there.
But as we approached the line of vehicles, something in the air shifted again. A hum, faint but wrong.
“Wait,” came Gideon’s voice, sharp and cutting through the noise. He appeared out of the darkness, his chest heaving as if he’d sprinted the entire distance from the perimeter. “Don’t touch the first SUV!”
We all froze.
“What?” Roman barked, already stepping forward.
Gideon’s hand shot up to stop him. “The first Escalade, don’t go near it.” His voice was cold, clipped, his eyes scanning the vehicle like a hawk. “It’s been tampered with.”
Lucien’s gaze snapped toward the car, his instincts already flaring. “How bad?”
“Bad enough,” Gideon said grimly, crouching by the wheel well. “Looks like an explosive rig, demon trigger. Some kind of sigil burned into the metal undercarriage. It would’ve gone off as soon as it hit fifty kilometres an hour.”
Sorcha gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.
Roman’s fury detonated like a bomb. “They tried to blow up my family?” he roared, his voice shaking the night.
Layla flinched; her calm voice sliced through his anger. “Roman, look at me. Breathe.”
He did, but barely.
Viking was pacing now, his rage barely contained. “This is Caesar,” he spat. “I’d bet my life on it. No demon’s got the intel or the balls to pull something like this on our own turf. This reeks of Dragic blood.”
Draugr’s tone dropped into something that could only be described as lethal. “Then tomorrow, we stop hunting demons.” His gaze met mine. “We start hunting our uncle.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
“Get the women in the other cars,” I ordered, my voice rough but steady. “We move now.”
The brothers shifted immediately, their instincts overriding the rage for the moment. Guards spread out, checking each vehicle again. The women were ushered toward the remaining SUVs, surrounded by our men like a living wall.
As Runa climbed in beside me, I caught her gaze. Her hand trembled as she reached for mine, her voice barely a whisper. “Volken… how much worse can this get?”
I didn’t answer right away. My jaw flexed, my blood still pounding with fury.
“Worse,” I said finally. “But not for us.”
She frowned. “Then who?”
“For them.”
And as the convoy pulled away into the night, engines growling low and controlled, one thought burned through me with the clarity of a vow written in blood:
Caesar had crossed a line tonight.
He’d dared to touch what was ours.
Tomorrow, we’d remind him why no one survived when they came for a Dragic.