Chapter 2 Ezra #2
Vesna sat beside him, buried beneath so many gold chains and glinting jewels that it was hard to tell if she was crowned or cursed. Her gaze dragged over me, ravenous and calculating, before she leaned in to whisper something in her husband’s ear.
I remained still in front of their hideous chairs, forcing my expression into neutrality while impatience gnawed its way up my spine.
“Fortune is a fickle mistress, stranger. But tonight … she smiles upon you. My beautiful wife has seen something worth sparing. That’s the only reason you’re walking away from here with your life.
“However, I require one thing. Something even Vesna cannot talk me out of: a favor to be redeemed at a later date.
“Your identity remains a mystery, yet your strength and age are undeniable. While I understand this debacle wasn’t entirely your fault, I would be a fool not to take advantage of such power in my darkest hour.”
Renato’s deep blue eyes shone with malice as he flashed a wicked smile, his blindingly white fangs gleaming like sun-bleached bones.
Yes, these lukewarm, soul-sucking twats have fangs.
Vampires don’t kill humans outright. Instead, they puncture the nape of their necks and slowly feed on their souls until they’re on the brink of death, which can take years.
And just before the poor bastards expire, they crack their skulls open and gorge on the pineal gland.
It’s like fucking wagyu beef for these assholes.
Their entire biology is built for it. Their hearts beat maybe five times a minute. Even birth takes years. They’re not dead, just biologically lazy.
Slow systems, slow lives—every function calibrated to make their meals last.
They aren’t undead. Just alive in the most goddamn inconvenient way imaginable.
I took a moment to consider Renato’s request.
I could’ve wiped out every vampire in this gaudy house in minutes, but it wasn’t worth the hassle.
Plus, vampire meat tastes like dust.
“My dear Renato, I agree to your terms and will be available at your request should the need arise. Although I’m not sure how I could ever help a powerful being such as yourself.”
I let the sarcasm roll off my tongue, flashing him my own razor-sharp teeth in return.
I knew I was provoking the old bastard, but fuck him.
The vampire twitched, just barely, but recovered with practiced ease.
So sensitive.
“Fine. You are free to go. When the time comes, we expect full cooperation, knowing you’ve agreed to do our bidding. Also, we would like to know your name, so we can address you properly in the future.”
Renato’s gaze locked onto mine, his pale face betraying no emotion. As he casually leaned back in his chair, I realized this foolish motherfucker thought he had the advantage.
How precious.
“You may call me Cú Allaidh,” I replied, my voice steady. “I’ve had many names in my life, but this is the one I will answer to even a thousand years from now.”
I met Renato’s glare with a smug smirk.
“Though if it’s easier for you … perhaps you’d prefer Madraín Béicteach. Has a certain bite to it, don’t you think?”
He didn’t laugh. But I did. Silently. Because we both knew exactly who the yappy little bitch in the room was.
I graced Renato and Vesna with an overexaggerated bow, then muttered a hollow thanks before slipping out into the oppressive summer heat.
Their absurdly long driveway seemed built to give departing guests ample time to dwell on the mistakes that led them there. And sure enough, my thoughts fixated on the bizarre meeting.
Vampires don’t scare me. I’ve easily dispatched plenty in my lifetime. They’re troublesome, snobby creatures who think they should rule the world just because humanity built shrines to them in books and movies—even if most of it’s wrong.
My steps faltered, leaving me frozen in the middle of a busy sidewalk.
I needed to do something about the Disciples of Humanity’s Light before they spread further, rooting themselves like an invasive weed intent on choking out everything in their path.
And the only way to defeat an invasive weed is to kill it at the root.
Over the next few years, I relentlessly hunted down and destroyed every human tied to that vile cult, leaving no trace of their hateful existence.
The ugly flower with the hopeful smell—Orbexilum stipulatum—became extinct along with the group that had held it in such high esteem.
Or so I thought.
Dragging myself from the memory, my gaze snapped back to the blood-soaked human in front of me. Gore dripped from his naked body, and the faint scent of that long-extinct flower clung to him.
What the hell did it mean?
How certain was I that I had eliminated the entire cult?
If I hadn’t encountered the Disciples all those years ago, I would’ve devoured Thane without a second thought.
Was fate fucking with me again?
He was either one of them—or their enemy.
The only thing I knew for certain was this: He was worth keeping close.
I carefully examined his body for injuries, staying alert for any signs of aggression. Aside from minor cuts and scrapes, Thane had two huge gashes running along his shoulder blades, deep enough to need stitches.
Beneath the cool, sticky blood, I spotted a detailed tattoo of a chain wrapping around his neck, winding down his torso, and crisscrossing over his chest, ending in a lock that didn’t feel decorative.
The symbols etched around the lock looked Enochian. It was concerning, but probably nothing.
Humans stumble onto supernatural shit like that all the time.
Once I was sure he had no other serious injuries, I helped him to his feet, keeping my grip firm as I wrapped an arm around his waist and hooked his other arm over my neck.
The whole situation was precarious.
I didn’t pray. I just hoped the cosmos was in a merciful mood. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain two naked, blood-soaked men walking through the woods in the middle of the night.
Thane’s blood smeared across my side as we moved, his arm heavy on my shoulders.
He reeked of grapefruit and rot. Of old things I’d buried long ago.
The scent shouldn’t exist.
And yet, here it was—dragging itself back into the world on his skin.
And if it was back … then so was everything I’d tried to kill with it.
Hauling the fractured human up the porch steps and through my front door, I carried him into the kitchen and placed him on the table. There, I cleaned him up as best I could, stitched the injuries on his back, then laid him down on my guest room bed.
While he rested, I kept myself busy with pointless tasks, trying to stave off the endless cycle of thoughts.
I decided he had one chance to explain himself.
If he didn’t?
I’d tear the truth from his bones and feed the rest to the trees.
He was unconscious for three days. And when he woke, he didn’t remember a goddamn thing. Not the blood. Not the scorched, dismembered corpses. Not even how he ended up bloodied, bruised, and naked in my guest bedroom.
Fucking useless.
Thane sat awkwardly on my couch while I gave him the basics of who I was—leaving out the part about being an ancient shadow monster—and how I found him, sparing no detail.
His face faltered as tears gathered in his emerald eyes.
“Although I have many questions for you, I would like to start with one that will determine your safety within my walls. Have you heard of the Disciples of Humanity’s Light?”
The blanketed figure curled up on my sofa looked obscenely frail, his chest rising and falling shallowly with every breath.
How the hell had he managed to kill that many Disciples?
“N-no, I don’t know what that is. It doesn’t sound familiar. Can they help me? I-I need to understand what happened.” His voice was hopeful, and his eyes shone with unshed tears.
“Absolutely not,” I snapped, the words laced with a snarl I didn’t bother softening.
Thane flinched, his eyes darting to me with uncertainty.
There it was.
That fucking look—the flinch, the fear, the confusion.
Humans always recoiled once the mask slipped.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to leash whatever monstrous thing had started pacing behind my eyes.
“Look, kid—”
“Thane,” he said, glancing up at me.
“Right. Thane. I’m not what you would call ‘nice.’ I don’t save people on the trail, and I sure as hell don’t invite them into my home. I’m private, bad-tempered, and have no need for companionship. That said, I can’t just let you leave in your current condition.”
He doesn’t need to know the real reason I kept him here. There’s too much at risk, too many threads leading back to the Disciples.
He might be important, and for now, it’s smarter to keep him close.
Thane cleared his throat, then looked at me with wide eyes. “Thank you for not leaving me out there, but … you and I both know how you found me. What if I’m a murderer? I-I can’t remember …”
His voice cracked, and he sniffled as fresh tears slid down his stubbled cheeks.
I ran a finger along the rim of my tumbler, keeping my eyes on the strange human before me.
“Well, Thane. We all make mistakes, don’t we?
I know I’ve made my share—dangerous ones, even—but what’s important is that we learn from them.
From what you told me, you’ve lost most of your memories.
And just because I found you soaked in blood doesn’t make you a killer.
Even if you did burn those men alive and tear off their limbs.
I believe in second chances. Don’t you?”
He looked like he was going to throw up.
So goddamn weak.
But between you and me, I lied.
I’ve never given a human a second chance in my life. And if there’s even the slightest possibility he’s connected to the Disciples, I couldn’t let him go.
The next few days dragged on, mostly spent getting to know my new houseguest while helping him settle into life in Lorewood.
He wasn’t a friend, but I tolerated him more than any human I’d ever met.
In small doses.
I even offered Thane a job at the bookshop, just to keep him close.
The manager before him had a sudden, terrible accident.
Totally unrelated, of course, to the fact she’d been stealing from my register and scamming customers.
I may be a monster, but I’m an honest monster.
I spent five years watching him from the shadows.
And in the end, I learned exactly dick.
He’s a mystery I’ll unravel eventually.
Time’s one thing I’ve got in abundance.
And I’m nothing if not persistent.