Chapter Twenty-Seven — The Coffin
Chapter Twenty — The Coffin
The transport was still moving.
Barely.
Its front axle dragged sparks violently across tunnel concrete while smoke poured from the
ruined engine block. House guards screamed orders through static-filled comms as
emergency containment lights flashed red overhead.
And beneath Blaine’s body—
Avery finally remembered how to breathe.
His hand still gripped her jaw firmly, forcing her focus back onto him instead of the dying
enforcers convulsing nearby.
The poison inside her pulsed hot beneath skin.
Hungry.
Reactive.
Terrified of itself.
“Avery.”
Blaine’s voice cut cleanly through the panic.
“Look at me.”
She did.
That was becoming dangerous too.
Smoke curled around them while gunfire thundered deeper in the tunnel. Red emergency
lights flashed across Blaine’s face in violent bursts — silver eyes, blood along his throat,
dark hair falling loose from the fight.
Alive.
Still alive.
Avery’s breathing slowly steadied.
The black veins beneath her wrists stopped spreading further.
Blaine noticed immediately.
“Good.”
The praise hit harder than it should have.
A sharp metallic crash echoed behind them.
Silas landed atop the transport roof gracefully despite bullets ricocheting around him.
“Less flirting,” he shouted lazily through the chaos. “More grave robbing!”
Avery stared upward in disbelief.
“Is he insane?”
“Yes,” Blaine answered immediately.
Then finally slowly he let her go.
The loss of contact felt wrong instantly.
Avery hated that.
Blaine rose smoothly and pulled her upright behind him while the transport screeched
violently against tunnel rails.
“We need the refrigeration unit intact.”
“Because of the evidence?”
“Yes.”
Silas ripped open the transport roof using explosive wire charges before dropping inside
through smoke and sparks without hesitation.
Absolute lunatic.
Avery heard screaming from within the vehicle immediately afterward.
Then silence.
Then Silas’ voice echoed upward cheerfully:
“Found the corpse!”
Avery’s stomach twisted painfully.
Corpse.
Not Vinny.
Not Vincent.
Just a body now.
Grief cracked through her again unexpectedly sharp.
Blaine noticed the shift instantly.
Of course he did.
“Avery.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking.”
She looked down.
Her hands trembled violently beneath the gloves.
Wonderful.
The transport ground finally to a halt with a deafening scream of metal.
Silas reappeared through the smoke standing atop the vehicle beside the partially exposed
coffin.
Rainwater leaked through fractured tunnel pipes overhead, streaking silver across the
polished black surface.
Belladonna flowers still rested across the lid.
House Moretti buried him beautifully.
Like decoration.
Rage burned hot again through Avery’s chest.
Silas jumped lightly down beside them.
“Heavy,” he announced.
“That’s your observation?” Avery stared at him.
“Well I already established he’s dead.”
Blaine looked exhausted by his existence.
Gunfire erupted farther down the tunnel.
More House tactical approaching.
“We’re out of time,” Blaine said sharply.
Silas crouched beside the coffin and brushed water droplets from the silver serpent
insignia along the lid.
Then paused.
Interesting.
“What?”
Silas’ expression shifted subtly.
“There’s a secondary seal.”
Blaine immediately crossed beside him.
Both assassins examined the coffin silently while alarms screamed overhead.
Avery’s pulse sharpened.
“What does that mean?”
Blaine’s jaw hardened visibly.
“This isn’t burial transport.”
Cold slid through her instantly.
Silas smiled faintly.
“Oh.” Amber eyes lifted slowly toward Avery. “Now this is interesting.”
“Stop saying that like a psychopath and explain.”
Silas tapped the silver locking mechanisms along the coffin edges.
“Medical preservation seals.”
Avery stared at him.
No.
No—
Blaine already looked grim.
“They weren’t transporting him to burial,” he said quietly.
“They were transporting him to a lab,” Avery whispered.
Silence.
Because they all knew it was true.
The House didn’t want Vinny hidden.
They wanted him studied.
Like Black Vein.
Like contamination.
Like every other ruined thing in this city.
Avery physically stepped backward.
“They were going to cut him apart.”
The sentence came out broken.
Blaine looked at her instantly.
Something dangerous darkened behind his eyes.
Not rage exactly.
Protectiveness.
Silas noticed too.
Again.
Interesting.
The amber-eyed assassin slid a blade beneath the coffin seal.
“You may want to prepare yourself.”
Avery’s throat tightened painfully.
She wasn’t ready.
God.
She wasn’t ready to see him dead.
But Vinny had died alone already.
She refused to leave him alone again.
Slowly carefully the coffin opened.
Cold white vapor spilled outward instantly into the tunnel air.
Then Avery saw him.
Vinny lay perfectly still beneath silver preservation lights, dark curls brushed neatly back
from pale skin while black veins spread visibly beneath his throat and collarbones like
poison ivy beneath glass.
Beautiful.
Dead.
Avery’s knees nearly gave out.
For one horrible impossible second she expected his eyes to open.
Expected some stupid joke.
Some grin.
Nothing happened.
Silence swallowed the tunnel.
Then Avery saw it.
Tiny puncture marks along the inside of Vinny’s wrist.
Injection sites.
Proof.
Her breathing shattered.
“They murdered him,” she whispered.
Blaine’s expression turned lethal.
Silas went unnaturally quiet.
And somewhere deep inside Avery—
grief finally stopped drowning.
It transformed instead.
The tunnel alarms changed pitch.
Higher now.
Urgent.
Containment lockdown.
Red emergency shutters began slamming down section by section deeper in the corridor
while House tactical units flooded the entrances behind them.
“We need to move,” Blaine said sharply.
Avery barely heard him.
She stood beside Vinny’s open coffin staring down at his face while cold preservation vapor
curled around her boots like ghost breath.
He looked peaceful.
That hurt worst of all.
Vinny had never been still like this when he was alive. Not once. There had always been
something moving — his hands, his eyes, the corner of his mouth working toward a smile
he was trying to hold back because he thought it would annoy her. He had fidgeted
constantly and she had never told him she’d noticed. She had catalogued every version of
his restlessness the way she catalogued exits and had never told him that either.
She would’ve told him.
She had been going to tell him.
The cold vapor from the preservation unit curled around her boots like it was reaching for
something. She could smell filtration chemicals and below that something else, faint and
fading — rain, expensive cologne, the specific warmth of someone who had stood too close
for too long in small apartments.
He didn’t smell like that anymore.
That was the thing nobody told you. The absence arrived in pieces.
Vinny belonged in candlelight and stupid jokes and rain-soaked bouquets left outside
apartment doors.
Not inside a silver coffin surrounded by armed men pretending they loved him.
“Avery.”
Blaine’s voice gentled slightly.
Still she couldn’t move.
Black veins spread beneath Vinny’s pale skin like poison flowers trapped under glass.
Proof.
They murdered him slowly.
Systematically.
And blamed her for it afterward.
Something inside Avery hardened further.
Silas quietly removed the silver serpent crest from the coffin lid with a knife.
Careful.
Almost respectful.
Interesting.
“You’re grieving loudly,” he murmured softly.
Avery looked up sharply.
“What?”
Silas glanced toward the tunnel entrances where tactical forces gathered beyond
emergency barriers.
“They’ll hear it eventually.”
The statement sounded insane.
Then Avery realized he meant emotionally.
Fear.
Rage.
Grief.
The poison reacted to all of it.
Her pulse stumbled.
Blaine noticed instantly.
“Avery.”
Too late.
The poison beneath her skin already stirred again.
Not violently like before.
Differently.
Colder.
The preservation lights around the coffin flickered suddenly.
One House enforcer farther down the tunnel staggered briefly before coughing blood into
his mask.
Silas’ amber eyes sharpened immediately.
“Well,” he murmured. “That’s new.”
Avery physically stepped backward from the coffin.
“No.”
Another guard collapsed.
Then another.
Panic spread instantly through the advancing tactical line.
Blaine crossed toward Avery immediately.
“Focus on me.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“Yes, you are.”
Her breathing turned uneven again.
The poison pulsed strangely through the tunnel air now — less explosive, more invasive.
Like grief itself becoming contamination.
The House soldiers backed away from the coffin instinctively.
Fear spread.
And the poison fed on it.
Silas watched the scene with open fascination.
“She’s amplifying.”
Blaine shot him a murderous look.
“Not helping.”
“She’s emotionally linked to the corpse.”
The words hit Avery like ice water.
Corpse.
Vinny.
No.
Blaine reached for her instinctively then stopped himself halfway.
That hesitation hurt unexpectedly.
“Avery.” His voice dropped lower. “You need to stabilize.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Gunfire exploded suddenly through the tunnel entrance.
House reinforcements breached the first containment gate.
Too many.
Far too many.
Silas sighed dramatically.
“Oh, I really hate government employees.”
Then he vanished into motion again.
Bullets ricocheted wildly as the amber-eyed assassin launched himself directly into the
advancing tactical line with terrifying grace.
Beautiful violence.
Avery barely registered it.
Because she still stared at Vinny.
Dead.
Cold.
Alone.
And suddenly she remembered the last thing he ever said to her.
I would choose you anyway.
Her chest physically cracked open.
The poison surged instantly.
Tunnel lights exploded overhead.
Every surviving House soldier within twenty feet dropped screaming.
Blood streamed beneath their masks while black veins spread rapidly across exposed skin.
Blaine grabbed Avery hard by the shoulders.
“Avery!”
Her vision blurred violently.
“I can’t stop—”
“Yes.” His voice sharpened dangerously. “You can.”