Chapter 5 Kyle
Kyle
My eyes sprang open, and I was wide awake. I never needed time to adjust. From asleep to being awake in a moment. That was just the way it was and had been since I’d turned. For a second or two, though, I had no idea where I was. Then I drew in a deep breath of damp air and groaned.
Hell. I was still in the same shithole Temple had arranged for me to live in.
It was rare that I actively longed for Sebastian, but I missed his lifestyle right about now, even if my version of his appreciation for luxury didn’t have so many bells and whistles.
At least I’d always enjoyed somewhere clean.
This place was far from fucking clean. But maybe Kyle Durg wasn’t a clean kind of guy. I groaned and kicked my blankets off. Time to start the day.
An unfamiliar scent lingered in my nostrils, teasing me with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
An image of red hair came to my mind. Sam.
She certainly didn’t belong in my head. But she’d lodged there somehow, and when Jason had driven past her, I’d made him follow her so I could ensure she got home safely.
Of course, that was only because any thrall was like a beacon for a vampire in need of a quick snack in this town, and I needed to keep Esmé sweet as my way in. So, protecting her food source seemed like a good way to prolong that sweetness.
It had nothing to do with Sam at all. And absolutely nothing to do with the way my balls tightened when I thought of her or the way my hand was lingering near my dick now.
I shook my head, trying to shake loose those thoughts. What the hell had I been thinking when I kissed her cheek yesterday? Sure, theater, performance... But really? Nothing to do with the softness of her skin or her scent at all?
She was a temptation I didn’t want to explore.
With another head shake of self-disgust, I got out of bed, then showered, dressed, and grabbed an emergency blood pouch from the fridge. I hated living like this, but the ends justified the means in this situation.
When I swung my front door open, an unfamiliar car was idling at the curb, Esmé in the driver’s seat and Sam in the back, hunched over, her focus on her phone.
Purple shadows darkened the skin beneath her eyes, and I frowned.
Then I steeled my emotions. I’d already decided I wasn’t concerned about the well-being of a human, hadn’t I?
Especially not someone else’s pet. Even if I’d entered into the uneasy pretense of caring on Esmé’s instructions that Sam and I date.
I huffed out my disgust at what Esmé was forcing on me. But I certainly didn’t have to care in the privacy of my own thoughts.
My focus was on my mission, anyway. Securing Nic’s reign and bringing New Orleans back under Dupont rule.
Even I could see that Sebastian was the city’s best hope over Blackblood control.
Sebastian and I didn’t always get along, but he had some good ideas regarding establishing and maintaining a good rule, and he was also loyal to Nic now that he seemed to have his head screwed back on straight after all the Leia shit that had gone down between them.
“Time’s a wastin’,” Esmé greeted me as I settled into her passenger seat. But she didn’t say anything else as she drew away.
Perhaps she wasn’t a morning person. That was fine. I wasn’t up for conversation with her, either. I just needed to keep her close enough to watch her and make sure she didn’t double-cross me the same way she seemed to be so happy to do to Brock.
At least her ride was bigger than Sam’s. I wasn’t twisted like some kind of immortal pretzel in the front of this one.
The journey to Brock’s house didn’t take long at all.
He was almost in the same neighborhood as me.
Almost being the operative word of that sentence.
He was close enough to keep an eye on his budding army but far enough away to be making plans to expand.
And he wasn’t exactly in the thick of it if it all went wrong one night and violence spilled over to the human world.
Yes, he’d clearly planned his location quite carefully. The streets widened a little as we rode, and became leafier, the trees lining the road older and more majestic. After a few minutes, Esmé slowed, pulling up to a solid metal gate.
No fancy filigreed wrought iron, here. Brock was clearly a guy who valued his privacy. After Esmé spoke quietly into an intercom system, the gate rolled silently open to reveal a huge house — bigger even than Sebastian’s — and several outbuildings.
I shook my head as I skimmed a glance over them. I didn’t even want to know what went on in those. I’d probably find out at some stage — well, if the mission went well, I definitely would — but I wasn’t looking forward to that moment.
“We’re here.” Esmé rolled to a stop inside the gate and at the foot of some stone steps.
The stone was cracked and old, and armed guards stood at the top.
There was no real reason for them to be armed — particularly not with the automatics they cradled like babies.
They were all vampires, but the guns went with their pseudo-military aesthetic of tight T-shirts, cargo pants, boots, and sunglasses.
Esmé smirked as she glanced over at me. “Looks like you fit right in.”
I huffed but didn’t reply as I ran my fingers over the raised scar on my head. Then I opened the door as Esmé got out and I walked around the car before climbing the steps.
One of the guards jabbed his gun toward me. “Halt!”
I stopped, my hands raised in front of me. This wasn’t the bar from last night. I wasn’t about to fight my way in, and I wasn’t going to say anything that might antagonize them, either. I’d play my role exactly the way I was supposed to.
“What are you doing, Danny?” Esmé looked the guard dead in the face. “He’s good. I say so.”
Danny shrugged, but the movement was small, like he didn’t want to make it. “But Brock said —”
Esmé waved a hand. “Go ahead then.” After she spoke, she stood to the side, arms folded, tapping her foot.
“It’s just a weapons check,” the second guard offered almost apologetically, as if Esmé scared him, as the first guard stepped forward and patted me down. “Can’t be too careful, I guess.”
“I guess.” Now Esmé was examining her nails, her spine ramrod straight, her entire being radiating that she was pissed. “Can I take him through now? Brock is expecting us.”
The guard, Danny, stepped away from me and nodded, although he looked disappointed not to have found anything on me.
“Come on.” Esmé opened the door and beckoned me forward, seemingly perfectly at ease to leave Sam sitting in the backseat of her car.
I still didn’t talk. I had nothing to say, and God only knew who was listening within these walls.
Esmé all but speed-walked through the property, barely giving me chance to look around.
I remembered what I could of the layout, glad the Blackbloods were so transient.
They hadn’t exactly brought a lot of shit with them.
The rooms weren’t crammed full of treasures and valuables, and that would make these spaces easier to navigate if we needed to bring our army here.
Holy Hell, I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. We didn’t need an all-out vampire war because one jumped-up little fuck couldn’t keep himself in check. Still, soon I’d have the measure of Brock Saxton and know what we were dealing with.
Esmé pushed open a door at the back of the house, and we stepped out onto a wide deck that overlooked a big, fenced yard. Several pairs of men were sparring in what looked like it was supposed to be an organized training session.
But my gaze caught on the biggest of all the men there. It was like he was a beast and a vampire all at the same time. Some sort of hybrid, almost. He was all muscle and mean attitude under a lowered brow and ridged forehead.
There he was.
Brock Saxton. It couldn’t have been anyone else.
He hesitated for the briefest of moments as he sniffed the air before pulling his fist back and smashing it into his opponent’s jaw. There was an audible crack as the bone broke and the guy hit the ground, sending up a plume of dust from the surface, his eyes already rolled back in his head.
Brock didn’t waste any time checking on the guy he’d just knocked out.
I stood and waited for him to come over, my stance my usual one — loose enough to look at ease but poised to fight if I needed to.
Esmé had brought me here to meet Brock, so this next part was a test, and it was one I intended to pass.
He grabbed a towel from the railing of the deck and climbed up the steps to stand beside us, watching me the whole time as he moved the towel slowly over the back of his neck, even though he looked like he’d barely broken a sweat.
I didn’t flinch, but I did move to stare just beyond him like a good soldier.
He wiped the towel over his face and the back of his neck again then slung it over his shoulder.
“This him?” He looked at Esmé now as he jerked his head in my direction like I wasn’t there or couldn’t understand. He was reminding me of my position straight away.
I maintained my forty-yard stare out past him.
“Sure is.” Esmé nodded and kept her voice hard. “Sam brought home a little boyfriend, and I figured he’s perfect for an enforcer.”
“That so?” Brock’s voice held a touch of derision, and Esmé didn’t reply. “You’re allowing a boyfriend?”
I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or simply needling Esmé with that question.
This time, she seemed to withhold a sigh, and her voice held a deliberately casual air. “Figured it can’t do any harm now, right?” She shrugged and sounded almost bored.
Brock chuckled. “Harsh but true. All good thralls come to an end eventually.”
I sneaked a glance at Esmé to discover she’d developed a forty-yard stare of her own, looking beyond Brock and focusing on nothing in particular across the training space.