Chapter Two
Giovanni
The demon lunged, but my blade was faster, sinking deep enough to silence the next snarl. His clawed hands reached for me, but I pivoted to the side, poised for the next strike.
“I’m going to enjoy feasting on your heart.”
Khaelix bared his jagged teeth, his green eyes burning with sinister heat that promised no warmth.
Only destruction.
The side of my mouth curled. “Then you’ll go hungry, parasite. No heart beats inside me.”
His smile was cold, sharp, and filled with malice. “Everyone is afraid of Malachi, but you… You’re the shadow that makes the darkness flinch.”
“That’s because even darkness knows when to fear its own monster.”
I tracked his every movement, his claws sliding against the brick building. He wanted me to hesitate, to falter. But I’d lived too many lifetimes to give him that satisfaction.
“You think you’ll find another host.”
I twirled the daggers effortlessly, the steel whistling as they quickly rotated. “But I’ll turn you into a whisper not even the wind will carry.”
Faint blue light flickered to life in Khaelix’s hands, tendrils of electricity snaking up his arms like writhing serpents. The pulsating glow intensified, filling the air with the acrid smell of ozone, and the tingling sensation of static slithered against my skin.
If the demon’s hide wasn’t so hard to pierce, he would already lay bleeding at my feet. Instead, the bastard stood there, charging up for his attack, daring me to test my luck.
My gaze flicked toward the mouth of the alley, my eyes mere slits. A couple walked past, oblivious to what was taking place not twenty feet away.
“You’ve already lost. You just don’t know it yet.”
His voice dripped with dark amusement. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you feel it long before the end.”
I swung my daggers in an arc, ready to end him, when my phone began to ring. It threw off my concentration when I heard Malachi’s ringtone. The blades missed by a mile. Khaelix grinned, his putrid green eyes taunting me.
“Go ahead, Giovanni. I’ll wait. Take your last call.”
I started to charge him, but the ringing stopped, only to start again. Malachi wasn’t in the habit of repeat-dialing me, which meant it was important.
Shit. “Attack me while I take this call, and I’ll shove my blades up your—”
I couldn’t bring myself to finish that repulsive threat. Demons were truly grotesque in their natural forms. The sound of his hooved feet clicking on the pavement was already wearing on my nerves.
Khaelix gave a mocking bow, twirling his clawed fingers in front of his forehead.
“What?”
I ground out when I answered. “Kinda in the middle of gutting a disgusting pig.”
Khaelix curled his lip. I flipped him off.
“Dane and Kyson were arrested. Meet me at the police station.”
“What in the fuck were they arrested for?”
I growled. Just like I knew he would, Khaelix snapped forward, his hand raised. Swinging my arm behind me, I drove the blade of my dagger into his bulbous neck. He squealed then snarled before I twisted the hilt. What could the two have done to warrant an arrest? I yanked the dagger free. Why had they left the castle in the first place?
Khaelix crumpled to the ground, the glow dying out as I stepped over him, ready to rip the police station apart to get to the males.
“I don’t know,”
Malachi said in a low, deadly tone, “but I’ll soon find out.”
I sheathed my daggers, pocketed my phone, and headed down the two blocks to a small building, its brick facade washed in muted oranges and yellows by the weak gleam of an overhead streetlamp. It was situated between an outdated laundromat and a diner whose neon sign buzzed faintly, missing the “Y”
in “EATERY.”
Three cruisers lined the front, their light bars catching the flicker of a passing car’s headlights as I stood there. The air carried the faint metallic scent of cooling engines, mingled with the oily residue of exhaust.
Kyson was inside, but was he sitting at a desk, cuffed to a bench, or in a cell? Had the cops treated him right, or would Sheriff Whitmore need new deputies?
Malachi emerged from the shadows, his gaze scanning the area as he approached. I met him halfway, the gravel crunching under my feet.
“How did Whitmore allow this to happen?”
His lip curled as he glanced at the station, where untrimmed weeds clung to the base of the wall.
“I’m arriving the same time as you.”
The hollow clang of the metal clip against the flagpole echoed in uneven bursts through the stillness, the flag itself faded under the spotlight.
We moved toward the door as one, our steps falling into a soundless rhythm. The entrance was a single glass door, its glass streaked with rain residue and finger smudges. Malachi walked inside first, the smell of stale coffee and old paper floating past me, carrying with it a faint tang of sweat and something metallic—like coins left too long in damp hands. The fluorescent lighting was biting against eyes too attuned to darkness.
I’d never been inside the station before. The foyer consisted of a single, short hallway, the scuffed mat beneath us holding the faint grit of dried mud tracked in on worn boots. Beyond the mat, the white tile was yellowed with time and dirt that no amount of scrubbing could erase.
No clue where I was going, I followed behind Malachi, who headed straight until the hallway revealed a cluster of desks on the right. The cheap metal was scratched and dented like it had seen too many years of elbows slamming down during tense moments.
Three males were present, their voices a low hum punctuated with bursts of laughter. Two deputies were leaning back in their chairs across from each other, feet braced on the edges of their butted-up desks as they traded jokes. The faint rustle of a paper accompanied the sound of a pen tapping caught my attention.
At the front desk sat Deputy Harrington, his posture too casual, his smirk too knowing. Every instinct in me prickled.
My gut told me he was the reason Dane and Kyson had been arrested.
Harrington slowly rose, tossing his pen and newspaper onto his desk. The male tucked his thumbs into his utility belt before puffing out his chest. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
Malachi’s imperceptible snarl didn’t bode well for this small-town station. “You have what belongs to me.”
“Do I now?”
Harrington rocked back on his heels, his smile oozing with satisfaction. “Last I checked, you couldn’t own another person.”
I took a casual step forward, tucking my hands behind my back. “Let’s not play this game, Deputy. You’re holding two males that belong to us, and you really don’t want to test my patience.”
My sheathed daggers vibrated under my untucked dress shirt, pulsating for blood, even while still tainted with the demon’s.
Harrington’s smile faltered ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing a fraction.
“Is that a threat?”
His stance widened like he was about to draw his service weapon as a flex or in preparation for a shootout.
A subtle curve of my lips emerged. I could practically taste his blood on my tongue. Movement behind Harrington showed the two deputies rising slowly to their feet.
All three would be drained before they even realized I’d moved. One began to text with trembling hands, the other growing paler by the second.
Malachi took a step closer, his move impossible to detect. The quit stealth of a predator, but I could hear the hum of his sword and the gentle flutter of his feathers. At the moment, the humans couldn’t see the obsidian wings. Not unless he wanted them to.
A growing scent drew my attention. My gaze slid toward the back hallway, my head slowly following.
I could smell them.
Kyson and Dane.
Their anger and fear ripened the air around me, sinking into my lungs. I tilted my head back and drew in a deep breath, teasing my senses with the full-bodied aroma. My fangs ached, threatening to extend, as I rode a razor-thin edge between control and indulgence.
“Giovanni.”
Malachi’s warning had teeth. “Touch Dane and die.”
I started to give him a false promise, but Dane’s scent was an afterthought. It wasn’t the one I was drawn to, consumed by, or savoring as it lured me deeper inside the station.
Kyson’s was.
Malachi had made the male’s scent repulsive to vampires for safety reasons, but… I inhaled again, even deeper this time. Every heartbeat in the building pulsed in my ears, but it took very little effort to pinpoint which one was Kyson’s.
For years it had lulled me, its rhythm striking the sweetest notes. The sound had drawn me to his bedroom door hundreds, maybe even thousands, of times in the past.
Right now, it was the blend of fear, adrenaline, and fury that seduced me, a combination I wanted to sink my fangs into.
“Hey! You’re not allowed back there,”
Harrington said brusquely, like he could actually stop me. Then he folded his arms, purposely causing his biceps to appear larger. “That’s for personnel only. Now, I’m gonna ask you both to leave. Your possessions won’t be released until Sheriff Whitmore arrives tomorrow morning.”
Concentrate. Pull your monster back. Now is not the time to bathe in his blood.
Pivoting, I locked my gaze on the human, running my tongue over my slightly extended fangs. Malachi grew even closer to the deputy, as if playing a deadly game of cat and mouse.
Only, Harrington had no idea he was the mouse. I became acutely aware of the way the deputy’s vein throbbed in his thick neck, growing thirsty at the sound of his rushing blood.
But it wasn’t the heady scent of fear and rage pulling at my darkness.
It was the pure arrogance and stupidity of the deputy trying to stop me from reaching Kyson.
The fool had no idea what he was trying to stand between—no clue of the lengths I would go to in order to protect my petit oiseau . Little bird.
Even from me, who always craved just a small taste.
My smile blossomed, my gaze still fixed on Harrington’s neck. Even though the deputy’s eyes had been on us the entire time, Malachi and I now stood so close to the human, his surprised breath tickled my cheek.
“Malachi. I’m gonna ask you and your brother to ease away from my deputy,”
Sheriff Whitmore said slowly from behind us, his quiet authority filling every corner of the room.
I gave one quick, inhaled breath that mingled with a barely formed smile. “And if I refuse?”
The tiny hairs on the deputy’s neck brushed my lips, causing my fangs to throb.
Malachi took a step back, his nostrils flaring. “You would do well to teach your deputies impulse control, Sheriff.”
My nose grazed Harrington’s jaw, tracing a path until my lips hovered by his ear. His heart beat a little faster, his breath a little quicker. Every word spoken carried a soft yet insidious promise. “Take what is mine again, and I will break you into pieces too small for even death to gather.”
Harrington’s jaw clenched, but I saw a glint of fear in his eyes. “Then tell them to stop breaking the law.”
My gaze narrowed.
“What exactly did they do, Harrington?”
Sheriff Whitmore walked casually toward us, but there was tension in his smooth strides.
He feared the Winterhavens.
As he should.
I’d never pretended to be something I wasn’t. Even Kyson, who had lived in our home for years, tempted me beyond measure. While other vampires ran from him, the human smelled sweet to me.
Like fragrant cattle.
“Harrington,”
Whitmore said in warning.
Finally, Harrington tore his gaze away from me to glance at his boss. “I told them the blood samples were stolen. Kyson all but confessed.”
“Exact words. Now.”
Malachi’s demand hit like a crack of lightning, raw and unforgiving.
This was the Malachi Winterhaven who turned kingdoms to ash with a single command. The merciless prince with an unyielding heart of ice.
The version of my brother I despised most.
The deputy bristled, opened his mouth, the slammed it shut when Sheriff Whitmore barked out, “Shut the fuck up, Harrington!”
The room grew silent. The two other deputies hadn’t said a word the entire time, simply watching the chaos unfold.
“I will not repeat myself.”
There was an animalistic quality to Malachi’s voice, like a predator let loose in a world it didn’t belong to. The sheer potency of his gaze seemed to strip the air from the room, each second dragging like an eternity under its weight.
“Deputy.”
Whitmore’s eyes briefly closed, as if scraping the last of his patients from a depleted reserve. A deep exhale escaped through his nose as his jaw tightened. “What. Happened?”
I stood motionless, watching the deputy, waiting to hear why they’d been arrested. Kyson had nothing to do with the missing blood samples. It had been Sheriff Whitmore who’d handed them off to Malachi to be destroyed. He’d also used countermeasures to ruin the fabric of the backseat so no more samples could be collected.
As far as I was aware, he was the only person on the police force who knew of our existence. His help was reluctantly given, but he truly cared about his dying town and knew the importance of keeping our secret.
But this was the closest I’d come to opening a vein in Harrington.
“I mentioned the blood samples, and Kyson said they’d leapt into his pocket!”
Harrington’s chest heaved, his fingers curling into fists as he glared at Whitmore.
Malachi slammed into me, at the same time freezing the room’s occupants, when I lunged at Harrington, my fangs bared, an unearthly snarl tearing from my throat.
My daggers thrummed in their sheaths, eager to be drawn, their silent hunger promising blood for the one who dared harm me.
Malachi’s obsidian wings unfurled, dominating the space with a wall of razor-sharp feathers. The air between us felt charged, humming with his power as it pulsed against my skin. Our eyes locked in a fierce stare, a silent challenge burning in his eyes.
“You would defend him?”
My fingers curled into fists, nails digging into flesh for control.
“There is a place and a time, brother.”
The corners of his eyes pinched, and the muscle beneath his left brow twitched.
“What does he have to do to gain your fury?”
I gestured toward the frozen men, anger surging inside me. “Just a moment ago you were a dominant asshole.”
The first blow came without warning—a black bolt ripping through the air toward my head. Ducking low, I pivoted, the charge grazing past my shoulder and splintering the wall behind me. Chunks of plaster rained down, dust coating the air like smoke. Malachi stepped forward, his hand raised for another strike.
I’m about to show you a truth you’re not ready to face.
With a flick of my wrist, the void surged to life, swallowing Malachi’s next attack into the nothingness swirling around my palms. His eyes narrowed, the faintest glint of shock breaking through his cold mask, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
I smirked, knowing it would goad him.
A desk flew past me, hurled by his telekinesis, and I jerked to the side, letting it slam into the far wall. The sound of metal crunching echoed through the station.
“Is this what you wanted, Malachi?”
My voice was calm but held a dangerous edge. “To remind me who you are? To show you’re still the same ruthless, cold-hearted brother who thinks only of himself. Have you learned nothing?”
He didn’t answer. His wings beat once, the gust scattering papers across the room as he closed the distance between us. His fist shot toward my face, but I twisted, grabbing his wrist and shoving him back. The impact sent him sliding across the floor, boots grinding against the tile.
A low growl reverberated through the station, his wings snapping forward to launch another attack. This time, I stepped into him, twisting his momentum against him. We crashed into the side of the dispatch desk, the wood groaning under the impact. One of the deputies, frozen and unaware, teetered, but I reached out, steadying him before he could tip over.
With a vicious snarl, Malachi’s hand shot toward me, the black tendrils of his energy curling around my arm like molten steel. Blistering heat engulfed my shoulder, the kind of pain that would’ve brought lesser men to their knees.
Clenching my jaw against the agonizing pain, I summoned the void within me, dragging his dark current into the endless abyss. His eyes widened slightly as he realized I’d absorbed his attack, my powers devouring it with an insatiable hunger.
“You’ve been holding out on me.”
Rage threatened to consume me. “I’ve been holding out on you? If you’d bothered to spend a single goddamn moment getting to know me, this wouldn’t have surprised you.”
I bared my fangs. “Fuck you, Malachi.”
Another desk hurtled toward me, the sharp corner angled for my ribs. Thrusting out my palm, I bent time just enough to get out of its path. The clock on the wall vibrated, its hands jerking backward for a brief second before correcting themselves. His gaze shot to me, realization dawning.
His next strike came faster. His knee slammed into my abdomen, driving the air from my lungs, but I retaliated with a hard elbow to his side. We went for blows, the space between us a chaotic blend of raw energy and animosity. His wings snapped outward again, feathers brushing the ceiling and scattering debris. One desk lamp exploded in the chaos, plunging half the room into dim shadows.
A faint line of blood trailed down Malachi’s temple, smearing as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His gaze burned, but his breath came harder now, each inhale deliberate as we stared each other down. My jaw ached from the blow he’d landed, but I didn’t care. This was deeper than pain and a long time coming.
I darted forward, faster than his next attack. My fist collided with his ribs, the crunch of impact satisfying, but his retaliation was immediate. He spun, his boot catching my knee and driving me back, forcing me to stumble. My shoulder hit the wall, cracks spidering through the plaster as I steadied myself.
Centuries of pain, anger, and frustration were the driving force in every powerful strike I landed. “I’m tired of living in your fucking shadow.”
“I never put you there.”
Another surge of energy exploded between us, shattering what remained of the furniture, but it had bent around the humans, leaving them untouched. I reached for the void, my hands trembling as it drew in his rage like a black hole syphoning a distant planet. It swirled brighter now, its power weaving between us like living shadows. I hurled the energy back at him, striking his chest and sending him skidding across the floor. He hit the far wall, wings folding protectively around him.
We stood there, both panting, blood staining our clothes, the room around us a battlefield of destruction. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then, slowly, Malachi straightened, brushing debris from his shoulder as if it were nothing. The aloof movement of his hand caused everything inside of me to grow quiet before disbelief lit a fuse, then everything I’d ever held back blasted outward as I shouted, “You’ve never trusted me, never returned the loyalty I’ve shown you!”
“You’ve tried to kill me numerous times!”
“And why is that?”
My voice cracked, unable to hold back the raw emotions that hit me like a punch to the gut. “You’ve never been there for me, Malachi. You’ve been my prince, my commander, and even my betrayer, but you’ve never been my brother.”
My jaw tightened as I turned away, furious at the blood-red tears I hastily swiped at. “We’re monsters, Malachi,”
I said softly, my tone hollow. “Bred to be the stuff of nightmares.”
I turned back to him, slowly shaking my head. “We only have each other, and yet, instead of being allies, you’ve always treated me like an enemy. And that, I will never understand.”
Malachi averted his gaze, his features tense and guarded. His upbringing had been even more brutal than my own. Any trace of compassion had been viciously beaten out of him, until he’d become a merciless warrior who destroyed everything in his wake. Even our sibling bond had fallen victim to his ruthless nature.
But Dane had softened him in some ways, and a part of me was jealous he’d never given me even an ounce of what he’d shown the human.
“I’m not asking you to give me bro hugs, but at least chill with the hostility toward me.”
I braced for attack when Malachi closed the distance, ready to continue our battle, but I froze when his arms coiled around me. At first, I thought he would try to crush me, to break ribs, but… My brows furrowed when his arms held me in a warm embrace.
I wasn’t sure if I should hug him back or shove him away. For as long as I could remember, all I’d wanted was for him to see me as his little brother, but the hug was… frightening. “I think the blow to your head rattled your brain.”
“Will you shut the fuck up and stop making this even more awkward than it already feels?”
“The human has definitely…”
I curled my lips in, telling myself to stop using levity as a way of coping with his… This shit was just bizarre. “You can let go of me now. I’m pretty sure there’s a five-second hugging rule.”
Malachi took a step back, glaring at me. “You’re a hard son of a bitch to please. You criticize me because I don’t treat you like a brother but complain when I do.”
I glanced around, focusing on something other than my normally stoic brother hugging me. “We need to clean up our mess.”
The room had been demolished. All three metal desks had been crushed to some degree, papers and office supplies were strewn everywhere, and there were large holes in the walls. The only thing untouched were the humans, who we, thankfully, had avoided injuring.
My gaze landed on Harrington, and my blood boiled. “You should’ve let me rip him apart.”
Malachi glanced at the deputy, his eyes glowing red. “As badly as I want to let you, we can’t afford that kind of attention. His father is the mayor, a prominent figure with connections. His son’s death would bring Whitmore too much heat.”
The sheriff had covered for mistakes made over the years. Ashwood’s population had declined significantly since the mill closed, but for some reason, the town was appealing to demons and even vampires who had no qualms about draining humans and carelessly discarding their bodies.
While I viewed humans as nothing more than my food source, I was vehemently against killing them. Their deaths not only risked exposing us, but since meeting Kyson, I felt protective toward at least one of them.
Maybe two, since Dane seemed to make Malachi happy.
All right, three. Whitmore was a decent guy, even if he had horrible taste in cologne.
“It would also place suspicion on Dane and Kyson,”
Malachi pointed out, his jaw clenching. “Since they like taking off without telling anyone, we can’t place that kind of heat on them.”
He used his powers to clean up the mess, and I watched, a little fascinated, as the metal desks un-crushed themselves.
“Is that all you can do, or are you hiding more secrets?”
He arched a brow.
With a smirk, I repaired the large holes in the walls, remembering to leave behind the dirt and scuff marks. Though I was sorely tempted to shove Harrington into one of the holes before sealing it.
Once everything was back the way it had been, Malachi unfroze the humans.
“Foster, go grab the two from holding,”
Whitmore said then eyed Harrington. “You can’t arrest someone over a nervous joke. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly.”
Harrington’s upper lip curled as he looked our way. “But we still haven’t solved how the evidence went missing.”
I kept my expression neutral as he continued to glare at me. Would he still act the same way if he knew what I was? Knowing Harrington? Probably. He should consider himself lucky he was still breathing.
But if he touched Kyson again, he would face the monster dwelling deep inside of me.