Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Orpheus
The night feels different when it knows blood is coming.
I feel it the moment we step outside.
The air in the alley is thick. Shadows cling to the corners like they’re waiting to be invited closer. Somewhere above us, a light flickers, illuminating the area unevenly. I don’t need the light. I can see everything perfectly.
Cassia is still against my chest when we stop.
I set her down carefully, slower than I need to, my hands lingering at her waist a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Not because I’m distracted. Because I need her steady. Grounded. Alert.
“Stay behind me,” I tell her quietly. It’s an order that I won’t have her fight me on.
She opens her mouth, probably to argue, but one look at my face she shuts it down, she nods. Good. I don’t need her bravery right now. I need her alive.
Suddenly, I’m second-guessing my choice to bring her out here with me. She should be inside, where I know she’s safe. Now that she’s out here, though, I see this for what it really is. My foolish attempt to impress her.
I’m still confused about why I want to impress her. Still, there’s nothing I can do about it now.
The vampires waiting for us don’t bother hiding.
There are five of them, just as Priam said, spaced out in a loose semicircle that tells me they’ve done this before.
Not together, maybe, but enough to know what they’re doing.
They’re young vampires who think themselves invincible, but they’re not new vampires.
This group tonight is older. Old enough to think numbers make up for bloodline.
They’re watching Cassia.
That’s the first thing that makes my temper spike.
Not fear. Not hunger.
Possession.
I don’t want their eyes on her. I’ll have to make sure they know not to look at what’s mine. My chest tightens at the thought. I can’t deny this anymore.
She is mine.
One of them steps forward, a man with pale eyes and a sneer carved permanently into his face. His stance is casual, but his shoulders are tight. Ready.
“Well, look at that,” he says, clapping slowly. “The King himself. And he brought a date.”
Cassia shifts behind me. I feel it. I don’t turn.
“Careful,” I say calmly. “You’re already standing in a grave. Don’t dig it deeper with your mouth.”
A ripple of laughter moves through the group. Not nervous. This is the laughter of creatures who think they’ve found cracks in something ancient.
Another vampire steps up, a female, dark hair pulled tight, eyes sharp with resentment.
“Of course, you’d say something like that. Arrogant asshole. You rule like a god,” she spits. “Not a king.”
There it is.
There’s always been rumors about me. Rumors that I started to keep them all from knowing the truth.
I keep that part of me a secret because if they knew, they’d be determined to find a way to take control of the Underworld, and I’m not the key.
There is no key. The Underworld is balance that is set straight by my father, just as he made me who I am to balance out those who would cause nothing but chaos.
I tilt my head slightly. “That’s refreshing. It’s been a long time since someone accused me of being a god. Still, I’m curious why you think so. Explain.”
“You don’t listen,” she continues, emboldened now. “You dictate. You punish. You vanish for decades and expect obedience when you return. That’s not leadership. That’s tyranny.”
Cassia inhales sharply behind me.
Interesting. They think I vanish for decades when I’m always here. I never leave. This female has it all wrong about me.
I’m not a tyrant. I simply don’t bend to the will of people who want to cause trouble and mass murder. There are some vampires who like to call humans their sheep. This is something I don’t allow.
“Kings don’t owe their subjects comfort,” I reply. “They owe them order.”
“And what about loyalty?” the first vampire snaps. “What about respect?”
I smile, slow and cold. “Those are earned. Fear is simply efficient.”
A murmur moves through them. Anger now. Not bravado.
The first vampire’s gaze flicks to Cassia again, lingering. “Hard to take you seriously when you’re dragging around a human girl like a shield.”
I feel Cassia tense.
“She’s not my shield,” I say evenly. “Merely a witness. The world needs to know what’s about to happen here. I’m giving you all one final chance to keep breathing. Don’t test me. You won’t win.”
Their hesitation is palpable. I can feel it.
I feel something else too.
The shift in the air. The slight change in foot placement. The intake of breath doesn’t match the rhythm of the conversation.
One of them is moving.
I keep my eyes on the one in front of me, my attention locked, my body loose and ready. I’ve been waiting for this. Waiting to see which one is stupid enough to try.
Unfortunately, Cassia isn’t.
She doesn’t know what I know. Doesn’t have the same instincts I do. Years of honing my powers and abilities.
She doesn’t hear the scrape of a boot against concrete behind me.
She doesn’t see the glint of a blade forged with something darker than steel. Steel, I’m sure this group thinks will do damage. It won’t.
She only sees me standing still.
She thinks I’m in trouble.
“Orpheus,” she shouts.
Then she moves.
She steps in front of me just as the vampire lunges.
Time fractures.
I see everything at once. The attacker’s arm swinging wide. The weapon aimed for my ribs. Cassia’s body moving without hesitation, without thought, driven by instinct and something fierce and stupid and beautiful.
“No,” I roar.
I grab her.
Not gently.
Not carefully.
I hook an arm around her waist and twist, pulling her back into me as the blade whistles past where her chest had been a heartbeat before. I turn with momentum, using it, slamming my shoulder into the attacker before he can recover.
The impact sends him flying into the brick wall with a wet crack.
Cassia gasps, breath knocked from her lungs, her back flush against my chest. I can feel her heart racing, wild and terrified.
In the same instant, I raise a hand and freeze the remaining group of vampires in place. Whimpers and groans erupt into the air when they realize without a doubt that they’ve fucked with the wrong vampire. This won’t be an easy win for them, no matter how many of them come for me.
With them incapacitated and the attacker still curled on the ground, I focus on Cassia.
“You do not,” I snarl into her ear, “step in front of me again. Ever.”
“I thought he was going to kill you,” she breathes.
The words do something dangerous to me. She doesn’t know that they can’t kill me. I’m not the typical vampire. I’m immortal. Nothing can kill me.
I push her behind me again, one hand splayed over her sternum, holding her there. “I was waiting.”
“Now, let’s play.”
I wave my hand, releasing the stiffness from the vampires’ bodies. They don’t hesitate.
The alley erupts.
Two of the vampires rush forward, fangs bared now, all pretense gone. I move.
This is where they learn the difference between a ruler and a god.
I don’t rush. I don’t flail. I step forward and let the power roll off me like a wave. The ground trembles under my feet, subtle but undeniable. The air thickens, pressing down on them until their movements slow, like they’re trying to run through water.
One of them stumbles.
I grab him by the throat and lift him off the ground with one hand.
He claws at my wrist, eyes bulging. “You think fear makes you strong,” he gasps.
“No,” I say quietly. “Fear makes you obedient.”
I slam him down onto his knees.
The others freeze. This time, not by my doing, but from their own fear.
Good.
I look at Cassia over my shoulder. Her face is pale, but she’s standing. Watching. Not screaming. Not hiding. She’s seeing me now.
Not the man in the office. Not the one who argued with her about thrones and honesty. The King.
I turn back to the vampire at my feet.
“You want to test my rule,” I say, my voice carrying effortlessly through the alley. “Then watch.”
I snap his neck.
The sound is sharp. Final.
But I’m not finished.
I twist further, using his hair as a leash until his head pops free from his body. I toss it aside like an errant empty can.
His body collapses to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Cassia flinches, but she doesn’t look away.
I step back, blood splattered across my hands, my coat, the pavement.
The remaining vampires stare at me in stunned silence.
“This is your warning,” I tell them. “You challenged me openly. I answered. You live because I allow it.”
The female vampire swallows hard. “You killed him.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re letting us go?” Her voice cracks when she speaks again.
“Yes.”
Confusion ripples through them, quickly followed by something darker.
Resentment.
They wanted martyrdom. They wanted justification.
I deny them both.
“Leave,” I command. “And tell anyone else who’s thinking of testing me exactly what you saw here.”
They hesitate, pride warring with survival.
Then they turn and run. I don’t chase them.
I watch until they disappear into the night.
Only then do I turn to Cassia.
She’s shaking now, adrenaline finally catching up with her. I step closer, cupping her face before she can stop me, forcing her to look at me.
“Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Good,” I say, and pull her into my chest.
She clutches my coat, fingers curling tight. I can feel her breathing, uneven but steadying.
“You scared me,” she says softly.
I close my eyes.
“They were never going to win,” I tell her. “Not tonight. Not ever.”
“That wasn’t why,” she says, pulling back just enough to look at me. “You let them live.”
“Yes.”
“They’re going to come back,” she mutters, trying to force herself to understand.
I smile faintly. “Of course, they are.”
Her brow furrows. “Then why?”
“Because now they’ll be angry,” I say. “And angry people make mistakes.”
Her gaze sharpens.
“You planned that.”
“Yes.”
Understanding settles over her features, slow and heavy.
“That wasn’t mercy,” she murmurs.
“No,” I agree. “It was strategy.”
She exhales, something like awe flickering through her fear.
Somewhere deep in my chest, something tightens.
This was not a random rebellion. These were scouts.
Testers.
Someone else is watching.
I wrap an arm around Cassia’s shoulders and guide her back toward the club.
Whoever is pulling these strings has just declared war.
They’ve made the mistake of involving her.
I won’t forgive that.