Chapter 34
I’m a little conflicted about my feelings at the moment. I wanted to enjoy this strange, unexpected moment with Amarah, but she’s actually pissed me off with this spell shit.
“Do you plan on dying?” I could’ve strangled her. Not to death, of course—that would defeat the whole purpose of being angry.
“I would not stop you.” I nearly freeze at the voice that is not my little slayer’s in my head. “Do not react, Kayn Butcher.”
Easier said than done, but I keep moving, pulling Amarah along by the hand as we squeeze through the narrow metal tunnel. I’m having a harder time fitting than she is, but I already made it through once before going back for her, so I know it’s doable.
“Vendra, I presume?”
“Hmm?” Amarah hums.
Shit.
“Two peas in a pod. Do not speak. You do not understand the Gods link to do so. But yes, that is I.” I could swear she giggles. “Do not be angry at her for keeping you safe. You and she will be fine. Enjoy your time together, she deserves some happiness.”
I glance back just enough to see Amarah’s eyes locked on me. It’s pitch black—too dark for her to see anything—but her indigo irises glow, sharp and piercing with a clear what the fuck expression.
“Did you say something?” I deflect.
She frowns deeper. “Did you say something through the bond?”
Chuckling, I press my back against the cold metal as I guide her past me, pulling her forward.
“You’re hearing things, little slayer.”
“I mean…” she murmurs, turning so her chest drags across mine, slowing as she squeezes past. “I’m definitely hearing music.”
It’s like she’s begging me to stop her. I feel it so strongly that my hand shoots out across the narrow space and cages her in front of me. She bites her lip, pressing her head back against the metal wall.
I lean forward, brushing my knuckles along her jawline, up to her cheek.
“She deserves some happiness.” Vendra’s voice replays in my head. I agree, but not just some. Amarah deserves all of it.
“So am I.”
“And I didn’t hear anything from the bond?” she whispers against my mouth. “Because I swore—”
A loud boom of bass cuts her off.
She turns, startled, and I give her ass a quick swat. “Go.”
She scurries forward, and I stay a step behind as we push through the towering border wall—easily one hundred feet thick, maybe more. The moment we break through, the weak light slipping past the clouds reveals what I can only describe as a post-apocalyptic music festival wasteland.
When I was Mundane, I loved these kinds of events. Went to a few heavy metal shows and EDM carnivals. They were fun. As a Vampire, I’d indulge from time to time, but concerts just didn’t hit the same.
I still love music, though—more progressive metal and alternative rock than whatever the Beyond is playing right now.
“What the…” Amarah sounds just as shocked as I was the first time I saw it.
At least a hundred people are sprinting to our left toward a rusted stage.
It looks like an old parking structure long since rotted away, upper levels collapsed and gone, leaving only the first and second floors.
A few cars hang dangerously over the edges while a DJ and a female artist hype up the crowd with samples of what’s coming next.
Farther east—the direction we’re heading—is exactly what I expected.
It’ll likely get worse the deeper we go, but from here it already looks like a wasteland.
The cracked asphalt beneath us stretches into the distance, a faded double-yellow line running under our feet, leading toward a town I doubt has many inhabitants left.
There are weeds and dried grass poking through the cracks, but there’s no green in sight—just browns and tans. The remains of trees are scattered everywhere, but nothing’s left of them except their souls lingering in the decaying trunks.
I feel Amarah reaching for me, so I look down at her.
“We should go.”
Stepping beside her, I wrap an arm loosely around her neck and shrug. “What’s wrong?”
“This feels wrong…”
Her voice is soft, like she doesn’t fully believe what she’s saying. Even if it’s partly true. These people shouldn’t be here, but I imagine that’s part of the thrill. And the ones who love drugs probably love the way the Ashspyte threatens their lives.
I lean down, brushing my lips against her ear. “Don’t like music, little slayer?”
Her skin prickles with goosebumps under my fingers—a damn addiction to feel.
“No… I do…”
“Did you ever go to concerts?”
She lets out a pfft and shoves me lightly. “I was twenty when I was put into prison, not a child. Of course I did…”
I hate how sad she sounds at the end of that.
“Let’s stay for one song. Then we’ll go.”
When she looks up at me, with that soft parting of her lips, I flash her a bright grin. The whole area is muted of color, like we’re standing in a washed-out grayscale haze, but nothing dims the warm flush rising on her cheeks… or the vivid shade of her eyes.
Even if the world lost all its color, she’d be the one thing vibrant enough to bring it back to life.
“Okay… yeah, let’s—”
I scoop her up quickly, earning a startled screech, and run us toward the gathering of people—Mundane pace, nothing flashy.
We don’t need to be up front, but I get us close enough to see the stage, leaving plenty of space so we’re not crushed against anyone.
Most of the crowd is already amassing near the mosh pit anyway.
When I set her down, she looks toward the stage.
“Last time I went to one of these, I was right at the metal gate in front.”
Gods, her smile is so genuine my heart beats faster.
“I went with my eldest brother. He was always so protective. Thought I’d get snatched up, even though I was stronger than him. It was sweet, and we both had a wonderful time.”
“Do you remember the artist?” I step behind her, pressing her backside against me.
“Something Roach—the rock band that all turned Vampire so they could keep making music.”
“Didn’t realize they were still popular.”
“They aren’t.” She laughs and tilts her head back, giving me a wink that pushes me further into this pit of obsession.
She’s about to keep talking when the song actually starts. A female artist’s voice rises, and as if the speakers suddenly double in power, the music rolls across the mile-wide sea of people.
Amarah begins rocking her head side to side, and soon her shoulders follow.
“Odd how there aren’t any authorities here,” she slips through the bond seamlessly.
“Oh, they’re here. They’re just enjoying themselves.”
Her giggle pierces me like a shot of pure adrenaline.
The chorus hits, and I’m sure nearly everyone around us starts singing along. I haven’t heard this song before, but the artist’s voice sounds familiar.
My girl starts bouncing lightly with the beat, and I just watch.
I’m not a dancer or a singer—more of an observer—and I love this.
She loosens up bit by bit, all evident in the slow sway of her hips.
It has me itching to touch her. Especially when every few seconds her ass brushes against my legs and my very attentive cock, both of us enjoying the show.
She’s adorable when she lets go. As the music picks up pace, she spins around with her hands in the air.
“Oh come on, don’t make me the only fool here.”
And when the second chorus hits, she’s mouthing the lyrics like she knows it word for word.
“There’s definitely more than one of those here…”
When her eyes roll, I take her wrist, spin her away from me, then pull her flush against my front.
“Keep dancing like that, Amarah, and you’ll find out just how much of a fool I am for you.”
As if daring me, she keeps swaying her hips, slow and deliberate, dragging seductively against me.
“I really can’t keep my heart in check with you around,” she murmurs, her voice far dreamier than it was moments ago. “Damn Vampire.”
I pull her hair to the opposite side before lowering my mouth to her neck. The puncture marks from my fangs sit right where I claimed what’s mine.
I brush my lips against her skin. “Is it just your heart? What about that tasty cunt of yours?”
It’s impossible to smell anything but sweat, bodies, and the Ashspyte toxin in the air, but I know she’s wet. If the way she’s grinding that perfect ass against me is any indication.
She tilts her head purposefully, exposing the curve of her neck even more. I thread my fingers through her soft white hair that gleams like pearls. My other hand slips under her arm, gripping her waist and pulling her fully against me.
Her head falls to my collarbone, eyes closed, breath coming soft and eager.
“Tell me, little slayer. Are we at super-soaker status yet?”
A soft snort, one she tries and fails to stifle, bubbles out with her laugh.
“Definitely.”
The music fades beneath the sound of her breathing and the steady, rising rhythm of her heartbeat. It’s beautiful. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Every sound she makes when I touch her, every smile I hadn’t realized I was starving for. All of it feels made for me.
I’m on the edge of losing myself, ready to sink my fangs into her, when a body appears in front of her.
My eyes lift to see a male Vampire—just a bit taller than Amarah—inch closer.
“Please, let me indulge with you. She smells delightful and clean.”
“No,” I snap. “Fuck off.”
“His eyes,” she whispers through the bond, just as her heartbeat quickens.
I saw it almost immediately. Blackened strands of Ashspyte are seeping from his irises. Like ink swirling into a bowl of milk, slowly spreading, ready to turn it completely black.
He stupidly steps toward us, just within arm’s reach of me and far too fucking close to what’s mine. “There’s enough to—”
Blood splays upward, and I attempt to yank Amarah to the side to keep her from getting hit with the crimson liquid.
His head launches into the crowd, vanishing into the wave of bodies still dancing as the next song begins.
A second later, his body collapses to the ground at our feet, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.
I shake out my hand, now coated in blood.
“W-What…” she sputters. “What happened?!”
“I punched his head off.”
I run my fingers back through her hair as if we’re discussing the weather.
“How?!”
“With… my fist?”
“Do you know how much force that would take?!” She is honestly so cute when she’s surprised.
Correction: she’s always fucking cute.
“I’m happily fed.” It didn’t require much strength. Just a clean arc of centrifugal motion and enough power. The body can only withstand so much force. “I’m quite strong, little slayer. Now where was—?”
Fuck Beyond—a scream explodes beside us, and I roll my head back.
What is with these distractions?
I groan in protest.
“What did you expect?!” she shouts, pulling away and turning around to face me. “You literally killed a man!”
Mass chaos erupts, people scattering as if someone fired a weapon.
I shrug. “He was about to touch you.”
Her mouth drops open. “Oh my Gods, Kayn!”
It’s hard to tell if she’s turning red or not—she’s got a little blood covering her face.
That part I do feel bad about, but he didn’t listen.
I’m a bit over-possessive of the things that belong to me, and Amarah is mine.
The only person besides me who will ever touch her is Lucifer, if she allows it.
Atlas was an exception, because I really didn’t want to kill my friend. And I didn’t. I was very calm and collected.
“You don’t look too upset,” I croon while wiggling my brows.
She rolls her blood-stained lips together. “I fear I shouldn’t be horny knowing you get so jealous over me… It feels wrong.”
Now I’m grinning like an idiot. “My little slayer likes me jealous?”
Her hands slide up to cradle my neck before she wraps her arms around me. “I said I shouldn’t be. Doesn’t that answer your question?”
“I want to hear those delightful lips say it. Stroke my ego.” I lean in, lips brushing hers. “Just like you’ll stroke my cock soon.”
“So filthy.” She gives me a brief kiss before continuing, “Yes. It makes me feel wanted. Something I’ve… rarely felt.”
I grab behind her thighs and lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I take the back of her head to pull her to me, crashing my mouth to hers.
She has no fucking clue how badly I want her.
I’m obsessed. Completely. The only time I’ve ever felt this way was with Lucifer.
That’s how I know they’re both meant for me. I loved him even after he left me.
This feeling isn’t foreign, but it is rare. I don’t give it to just anyone.
I want this bond with her. But even if she were to remove it, I’d still prove to her that I want her just as badly as before.
With or without it—she’s mine.