Chapter One #2
Vanessa snorts. "Sure. Careful. Sipping cocktails and dancing. Some of us have been stuck in this damp box for hours." She preps the draining gear with practiced hands. "I hate L.A."
Darlene observes with focus, her jaw clenched tight. "This is not a vacation. It's a job."
Johnny flashes a smile, trying to defuse the tension. "Darius is gonna be pleased. Old vamp blood like this? Worth a fortune."
I nod slowly, watching them work. The pump clicks on. Needles slide into Kayden's veins. Blood starts to flow—thick, dark, and potent.
The irony of draining a vampire isn't lost on me. With previous targets, I felt a curl of glee as I watched their panic, the way their strength slipped away. Predators who became prey. Their dust still lines the floor.
But now there's none of that. No satisfaction, no triumph. Just unease, coiling low in my stomach.
I touch my neck again. The wound's already closed, but the sensation still lingers—warm, intimate. Utterly wrong.
He's a predator. An enemy.
"You all right?" Darlene asks, her voice gentler now as she looks at me.
I muster a smile. "I am. He barely punctured me."
She nods, but her eyes give her away. I've been attacked by vampires before, and it took time to recover.
I know her worry is double-edged—part protective, part professional.
She sees me like a little sister, yeah, but I'm also her asset.
The bait. If I can't do the job, the whole operation wobbles.
I reach out and touch her hand. "Really. I'm fine. I'll be ready to do this again tomorrow night."
"Uh, we've got a problem," Johnny says, leaning over Kayden's body.
Darlene's on him in a heartbeat. "What kind of problem?"
"His nightstone's embedded in this armband," Johnny replies, tapping the metal circlet locked around Kayden's wrist. "It's welded shut. No easy way to remove it."
"We cut off the hand. No problem," Piotr says flatly, already drawing a blade that looks like a machete.
"No!" The word rips out of me louder than I meant, echoing too sharply in the steel box.
Everyone turns and stares. I blink, forcing a casual shrug. "I mean… feels a little extreme, doesn't it?"
Darlene crosses her arms, gaze cool. "He's going to burn in a few hours anyway. One limb less won't matter." She nods toward the jagged opening in the east wall, carved precisely, so the rising sun would do what we won't.
"I know. I just…" I scramble for reasons. "The sun is nature. We let nature deal with predators. That's the whole idea, right?" I tilt my head, forcing a neutral tone. "Just feels like it's not our place to start hacking away at limbs."
I haven't taken pity on him. I haven't.
No way.
Before anyone can argue, Konstantin, the other brawny goon, turns, and heads for the exit. "Soldering iron. In the car."
I nod, exhaling, and offer him a small, grateful smile.
I don't even ask why a leshy—a literal forest spirit—keeps a soldering iron in his trunk. At this point, nothing surprises me. None of us are what myths promise.
A nymph, a faun, and a vampire go into a shipping container. The vampire doesn't come out. Sounds like the start of a bad joke.
And then… his eyes snap open.
They find mine first—confusion flashing to recognition, then hardening into fury as he takes in the chains, the cold metal, the draining rig at his side.
He jerks against the cuffs. "What the fuck—"
Piotr's fist slams into his jaw before he can finish. Kayden's head whips to the side, the next word swallowed in blood.
I wince, fists curling reflexively at my sides.
"You don't speak," the leshy says flatly. "Or you get more."
Kayden snarls, fangs bared. His eyes cut between us, calculating, feral.
"How the hell is he awake already?" Johnny asks, voice tight.
"We need to increase the nightshade concentration, clearly," Darlene mutters. "Vanessa?"
"I need twenty more minutes," Vanessa calls from the back, not looking up.
Konstantin returns, soldering iron in hand.
Kayden spits blood onto the floor, then flashes a broken grin. "If I knew there was a private afterparty, I'd have brought friends."
Piotr lifts his fist again, but I step in. "No. Don't make him bleed. We need every drop."
He hesitates, then mutters something sharp in Slavic—definitely not a compliment—and grabs an oily cloth from the floor.
After a brief struggle and a few attempted bites, he manages to shove it between Kayden's teeth.
With the nightshade's effects and the blood loss, the vampire is too weak to resist.
Still, his eyes burn, and they're locked on me. There's fury in them. And something else—betrayal. Which is almost funny, considering he was trying to drink me dry.
I want to snap. Tell him not to look at me like that—like he's the one who was wronged. But I don't.
Instead, I watch as Konstantin kneels beside him and powers on the soldering iron. A hiss, a flare of heat. The glow blooms too bright in the shadowed container.
The bracelet isn't jewelry—it's survival. The nightstone embedded in it allows the vampire to walk in daylight. Without it, the sun will burn him to ash.
Kayden's eyes widen, muffled gargle coming out of his stuffed mouth. His body coils against the restraints as the iron sears into the metal. And into his skin.
The burly leshy works with precision, but the tools aren't made for finesse. The pain must be blinding.
I stay still, breathing evenly, trying not to let the scent of scorched flesh or the sound of sizzling skin shake me. Trying not to let the look in his eyes do it either.
But I feel it. All of it.
"Maybe you were right," Darlene says, voice cool and amused as she steps closer. "This is more fun than chopping off a limb." She leans in, lips curled in something that's not quite a smile. "All the centuries of suffering you've caused… think of this as retribution, vamp."
Kayden's gaze flicks to her, his expression menacing.
And then it's done. Konstantin straightens, the armband still steaming in his hand. He tosses it toward me. I catch it.
"Souvenir," he says, wiping his hands, the iron already cooling.
I glance at the cracked band, then at Kayden. He's stopped fighting the chains. Doesn't move. Just watches me with eerie calm, like he's already accepted what's coming.
The shadows are thinning. Sunlight slices across the metal floor, inching closer.
Vanessa stands. "I'm done. We've got enough." She lifts the bags filled with rich, dark blood that will heal many.
For the right price.
"Let's move," Darlene says. Efficient and detached as usual. Everyone starts packing up, clearing out.
I turn to go, too, reaching the exit last.
Then I stop.
Something makes me look back.
Kayden's eyes are still on me. Dull from blood loss, but steady. The sunlight is crawling closer. Just minutes now.
I turn away.
Stop again.
Without thinking, I toss the armband. It hits the floor beside him with a metallic clang. Not in his hand, but close enough.
And then I walk away.