Chapter Five #2
But then my mood shifts. I glance at my wrist. The armband is back, welded in place like it never left.
Still feels warm sometimes, like it remembers the damn soldering iron searing my skin.
I tighten my grip on the glass, the cold nowhere near enough to put out the burn crawling under my skin.
I drop the mockery, my voice low and hard. "And what about your little 'kill the vampires, save the trees' creed, sunshine? What changed? What made you grow a conscience? Guilt doesn't just bloom overnight."
She looks away. Her voice stays flat. "I told you. I was coerced. It felt wrong, even if it was done to… vampires."
"Oh, even if it was done to vampires. Well, damn. That's almost touching." I let out a humorless laugh and shake my head. "What, couldn't sleep after watching one too many of us fry into ash like kindling? What a burden."
She swallows and frowns. "It's the method. We let the sun do it. Nature reclaiming what shouldn't exist."
I lean in, close enough to watch her pulse skip. "How poetic. So you get to keep your hands clean while nature does the dirty work?"
I pause, let it sting. "Funny, you didn't seem so coerced when you were grinding up against me in that club, whispering in my ear. I'm not buying your redemption arc, sweetheart. Not even on discount."
Asher straightens, arms crossed, that calm-thinker expression settling on his face like a chess player lining up the board.
"Let me get this straight. Darius Hawthorn, the green tech billionaire, poster boy for sustainability, is actually a satyr running a black market blood-trafficking ring to fund his empire.
And he's got a crew of supernaturals doing the dirty work—nymphs, leshy, what else? "
Sage nods, posture rigid. "Yes. Also fauns, a few púca, and at least one kamaitachi. All nature-bound species. Life-aligned."
I let out a long, low whistle. "You've got a whole damn enchanted zoo working under your eco-cult. What's next, a centaur with a clipboard?"
Asher ignores me and zeroes in. "Why you?" he asks, voice cool but direct. "If Darius already has loyal soldiers, why were you the bait?"
Ah. Now that's a good question. I glance at Sage, eager to watch her squirm. She doesn't. But her breath hitches. Just enough to notice.
"Well," she says carefully, "nymphs have something called allure.
It makes others notice us. Feel drawn. Humans.
Supernaturals. It's not a conscious thing, but it's strong.
Only…" She hesitates. "Most nature-aligned beings have a natural revulsion to vampires.
Like oil and water. So using them as bait doesn't really work if they can't stomach being close. "
I cock a brow. "So what are you, then? A special little vampire groupie?"
Her eyes flash. Oh, there's that spark. She glares, biting back whatever venom she'd love to throw. "No," she snaps. "I just don't have the same reaction. I was a perfect candidate. That's all."
I lean back on the couch, swirling my drink. "Sounds like a talent. Or a kink."
She turns to Asher instead. "I'm a turned nymph," she says plainly. "Six years ago, I was human. I nearly died. Something happened in the woods… and nature turned me. I wasn't born like this, which is why I'm different. Why I don't recoil from vampires."
I snort. "Sounds like the opening to some bargain-bin fairy tale. Girl gets lost in the woods, kissed by a tree, wakes up with vines down her legs."
She shrugs. "Believe what you want. I didn't know anything back then. I spent years half-crazy, living on the streets. Then Darius's people found me. Trained me. Used me." She pauses. "And when I got the chance, I ran." Her voice flattens again. "You've got your answers. Can I go now?"
That pisses me off. I sit up, sharper now. "You didn't explain why you saved me."
I say it like it's a fact, but saved is a stretch. She tossed the damn armband. It hit the floor near me. I had to dislocate my shoulder to reach it, while half my skin blistered like I'd been shoved into a kiln.
I've had close calls before. Plenty. Never like that.
She turns slowly, one brow rising. "I told you. It felt wrong. I'd had enough… What?" Her voice turns mocking, soft and deadly. "You want me to say I saw something special in you? That there's a heart of gold under all that sarcasm?"
Her smile is razor-thin.
I feel my jaw tighten.
Oh, sunshine. You really have no idea what kind of fire you're poking.
But of course, Captain Compassion steps in, blocking my comeback with all that calm, centered military presence he likes to project. "So you're on the run from Darius. He's sending people after you. All of that because of this special quality of yours?"
She shrugs, like it's not worth the breath. "That. And because I ran. He doesn't like disloyalty."
I lean back, arms crossed, tone lazy. "So your grand master plan to escape your criminal kingpin satyr stalker is… what? Just keep running until he forgets you exist? Seems like a short-lived strategy."
Her eyes narrow. "What do you care? It's my problem."
Asher, being Asher, ignores the attitude and presses on. "We could help you. I meant what I said."
She cuts him off before he can go full Saint of the Supernaturals. "I don't need your help," she says, sharp and cool. "I just need my clothes back and for you to let me go."
Right on cue, thunder rips across the sky and rattles the windows, like nature itself decided to weigh in with dramatic timing. Fitting.
I grin. "Well, look at that. Seems like Mother Nature wants you to stay for a sleepover. Whole forest's throwing a tantrum out there. And you're not exactly storm-proof, sunshine."
She doesn't dignify it with a reply, but I see her jaw tighten. So I keep going.
"And Asher's right. We could help. Not because we're noble heroes or any of that garbage—at least, I'm not—but I do love a good revenge plot.
And if that goat-footed billionaire freak is behind the bloodletting circus you dragged me into…
" I tilt my head, letting the edge creep into my voice, "I'd love to return the favor. "
She scoffs. "Yeah. Like you could." Then adds, under her breath, "And he doesn't have goat legs. Not any more than you can turn into a bat."
My smile sharpens. "Goat legs or not, you said it yourself—you leafy folk are sweet as a basket of kittens but about as deadly as one. Doesn't sound like he'd be that hard."
Her gaze flicks toward the fire. "He's not like others. Darius is thousands of years old. Ancient. Powerful in ways you don't understand."
"Then you're in danger," Asher says simply. "Real danger. But if you're set on leaving, at least stay the night. Let the storm pass. We'll drive you to your car. Or town. Wherever you were headed."
She sighs, reluctant but tired. "Yeah. A car. I ran out of gas."
I snort. "How environmentally irresponsible of you. I thought you'd be driving something powered by recycled moonbeams and pixie piss."
She rolls her eyes. "I'll stay the night," she says flatly.
Asher gives her a small nod. "All right. I'll show you a room. It locks from the inside. Your clothes will be clean by morning."
As they start up the stairs, I call out behind them, lifting my glass. "Don't forget to leave a glowing five-star review for Asher's Kumbaya B&B! Complimentary guilt trips and moral high ground included."
Sage doesn't respond, just keeps climbing like she's ascending into enemy territory.
Smart girl.
I stay where I am, pouring the last finger of whiskey and letting it burn down my throat. My thoughts spin—about her, about that blood, about this whole twisted revelation of a hidden world tangled in ivy, old gods and dark deals.
It's like we stumbled into some deranged Midsummer Night's Dream, only with more blood and corporate funding.