4 | Dante
Some vampires really lean into their more animalistic tendencies. You see them sometimes, burying their face in people’s necks or rutting like beasts. It’s never been something that’s appealed to me. I’ve always been more interested in tamping down the less human parts of myself rather than leaning into them.
Now, though, I sniff the air like a damn bloodhound. I can taste the bitter snap of snow, and beyond that there’s the tang of decay.
It’s the scent of those creatures. Their stinking, rotted corpses.
But they’re not what I’m searching for. There’s something very specific I’m searching the air for.
It smells of blood and power. And beyond that, sweet spice—apple and vanilla—a fragrance that has titillated my senses and haunted my dreams for months.
Silver.
I need to find her. After tonight’s mess, I need to lay eyes on her. The beast inside me is desperate to see her in one piece.
Her mages are otherwise occupied. One is badly injured and, while the others coo around him, it’s my job to find the brave witch that stood against veritable monsters and took them down without breaking a sweat.
It’s freezing outside. My hands are like icicles and the cold is dampening my senses—enhanced as they are. Until...
—There.
A hint of vanilla and spice on the icy breeze.
Apples, spiced vanilla, and the scent of the most delicious blood I’ve ever tasted.
Silver is to the East. Somewhere close to Arcanum Heights.
My feet are moving before my mind gets into gear. I hurry across the city on swift feet. It’s the middle of the night and the streets are quiet, enhanced by the half foot of snow on the ground. It deadens the sounds of my movements and the fresh falling flakes mask any trace of the path I’m making.
Within ten minutes, I’ve traveled halfway across the city and am at the base of the hill that leads to Arcanum Heights and its opulent mansions and neat streets with nothing out of place.
Sniffing the air again, the scent of Silver is stronger here. She’s through the gates. Her scent is stronger than it should be, and I pause for a moment.
She’s bleeding.
I’m up and straddling the eight-foot fence in my next breath. The rational part of me wants to hesitate and think things through, but my bestial side has no time. No patience.
From my vantage point, I scent the air once again.
She’s close.
So close.
I leap down, landing in a crouch before beginning the trek up the hill. By the time I reach the summit, a faint layer of sweat coats my skin and I’m breathing hard. I can practically taste her in the air. My mouth salivates, fangs extending. Her sweet, sweet blood calls to me. Practically begging for me to take another taste.
Most of the mansions in this neighborhood are dark, the occupants likely sound asleep after tonight’s excitement. There’s a special kind of arrogance to the covens that reside in this part of the city. An assumption that whatever happens, whatever ugliness taints the city, up here, they are untouchable.
Tomorrow, the news sites and papers will be full of the story of what happened tonight. There will be hushed gossip around the breakfast table, but no actual fear. The Archarcans will assume things will continue on as they have always done. Something tells me they’re about to get a rude wake-up call.
When finally I get close enough to the house where Silver’s scent is strongest, I practically fall to my knees with the potency of it. I take a deep breath. Smothering the part of me that wants to grab her as soon as we find her and haul her off to our lair. To feed and fuck. Fuck and feed.
For hours.
Fuck’s sake. I’m clearly losing my grip on my sanity. I don’t have a lair. I have an apartment. One that’s perfectly respectable.
I am not this creature that craves blood. That wants to sink my teeth into the witch’s delectable neck and take from her right as I fill her up with my cock and my seed.
Fuck.
I force my canines to recede with the sheer power of my will. The same will I exert on my dick. I can’t show up at wherever Silver’s sequestered away with a boner.
My movements slow as I get a stronger hit of Silver’s scent. She has to be very close.
The mansion in front of me looks much like all the rest. At least, until I spot the door has been kicked open and catch a scent of the occupants.
More of my kind. The ones oozing power.
Skirting the boundaries of the house, I search for a sign of where Silver’s being held. If it wasn’t clear before that she wasn’t here by her own design, now I’ve scented the others mingling with her, there’s no doubt. The gardens of the house are well kept. There’s neatly trimmed hedging, oversized topiary, and a small row of rose bushes just below the first-floor windows.
I scout the building, looking for possible entry routes.
This is not something I’ve done in years. Breaking and entering is far more Silver’s speed than mine. She and her joyful mage have broken into my office more than once. Her mage who always brings a smile to her face.
A pang goes through me. He’d better pull through for her sake or I’ll reach into the afterlife myself and yank him back for her.
This... violent side of myself is disturbing in how familiar it feels, like slipping on an old jacket left in the back of a closet. Worn, a little battered, but it fits just right.
I turn the corner to the very back of the house and spot the broken window. It seems I won’t need to dredge up any long-forgotten skills for breaking and entering. Then my eyes track the trail of bright red blood, which leads out into the garden before pooling in the snow.
This is why Silver’s scent is so strong here. She’s injured. Bleeding.
I need to find her. Now.
I can hear boisterous laughter inside the house and know time isn’t on my side. If the vampires inside notice Silver is missing and follow her trail...
I need to find her, get her away from this place, safely to my lai—
To Nexus.
To her injured mage.
Thisis why I don’t allow the animalistic part of me to do the thinking. He’s an idiot. He thinks only with our teeth and our dick.
I head further from the house until I reach an outbuilding where the bins are kept.
She’s somewhere around here. Hiding among the trash.
Smart. She’s masked her own scent under that of rotting food waste.
“Silver?” My voice is barely more than a strained whisper. “Are you here?”
No response.
I creep closer, feeling every inch of my predator self as I track my prey.
There’s a rustle of movement to my left and the sharp, delectable tang of blood. I flash forward, colliding with a soft body and steadying her with my hands on her hips before she knows I’m there.
“Dante?” her voice is just shy of breaking and the sound of it tugs at something deep in my chest.
“I’m here.” I pull her into my chest, unable to stop myself. I need to feel her against me. To touch her and know she’s safe.
I’ve got her.
The words come out of me before I can stop them. “I’m here Silver. I’ve got you.”
She clings to me, like I’m her anchor in a storm, and I band my arms around her, holding tight.
The beast in me settles.
“We need to get you out of here. Where are you injured?”
She blinks up at me. “It was just my arm. I caught it breaking out the window and landed weirdly when I jumped out. I used my magic to staunch it, but I guess I’m kind of covered.”
Despite knowing that’s what happened, having seen the evidence, it makes me feel vaguely sick to hear her speak of it.
“I’m going to get you out of here. Can I carry you?”
I’m being overly polite, considering my inner beast wants to lick the blood from her skin and lap at her wounds.
Better keep it together. She doesn’t need me drooling over her.
“That’s fine.” Her voice is quiet. Distant. She’s probably wishing it was someone else here with her. Someone not currently having to grit his teeth to avoid popping another inconvenient boner.
I take a bracing breath before scooping her up into my arms and dashing through the snow toward the gates. I don’t even hesitate as I take the leap, springing eight feet in the air and then darting off again. Silver’s sharp inhalation of breath tells me I probably should have warned her of my intentions. After all, it’s not every day I leap over fences like a damn cat. But tonight is exceptional.
She is in danger. She needs to be protected.
We don’t speak as I continue to carry her through the city at a speed that should be impossible. Her scent fills my lungs, and it’s an effort to not bury my face in her neck. I have to grit my teeth and mentally fold all the socks in my drawers to distract myself.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks in a small voice.
I hate it. It’s like the wind has been knocked out of her. I also kick myself for not telling her where we’re going. She must think I’ve gone insane. I’m so obsessed with the battle for control raging inside me, I can barely concentrate on anything else.
“The Spire. They’ve taken Roscoe there.”
I hear her swallow a few times before she manages a reply. “Have you heard anything?”
“He got injured,” I explain, suddenly uncertain whether she knows even that much. “I was with Fabian when he found out and I told him I’d come in search of you, since my senses are strongest.”
And my vampire craves you.
I don’t verbalize the last part, no matter how true it is. It’ll only terrify her and that’s the last thing she needs right now. I avoid making eye contact, too. She doesn’t need to read the depraved things going through my mind, or see the filthy gleam in my eyes.
She’s vulnerable. Frightened.
Now is not the time.
We reach The Spire in record time. Only once we’re inside and I carefully place her back on her feet, I hesitate. This building is not somewhere I’ve ever been inside. And tonight’s no different. I can’t imagine I’d be a welcome addition to the sick ward.
I... can’t seem to tear myself away, though. Even though I should. I should head home and self-flagellate enough so that I can keep myself from returning and hovering around this place like an unwanted ghoul.
“You were being held by vampires,” I say, the scents of that house suddenly clicking into place.
She nods. “Simpson and his cronies. They want to use me as their personal weapon.”
Damn.
Perhaps if I’d found proof and given it to the vampire elders, tonight wouldn’t have unfolded as it did.
That’s plenty of ammunition for me to torture myself with.
“I’ll let you go,” I say, still not quite able to meet her eyes. “I, uh, hope you find your mage well.”
I’m a buffoon, one who’s forgotten how to speak properly. Silver stares up at me. Her brow creased as my eyes dart away from her face.
This shifty, uncomfortable mess isn’t me and it’s making me want to tear my skin off with discomfort.
“Would you... let me know how he’s doing?” I ask.
“You really want me to?” She sounds surprised.
I glance down at her and this time I meet her eye, just for a moment. “I do. You care about him and that means, in a roundabout way, I care about him too.”
Because I’m a fool for her. A bleeding heart. Before I ever met her, I was a chunk of ice. Stagnant and frozen in time. But slowly she’s been melting my internal walls.
She swallows hard and licks her lip and I dig deep to avoid tracking the movement like a hungry dog, begging for scraps.
“You saw what happened tonight. What I did,” she whispers.
I nod slowly, confused about where this is leading. “I did.”
“And you’re... grossed out? Terrified?”
I frown and blink down at her. What is she talking about? “None of those things.”
“That’s why you won’t look at me, though, right? I—”
Oh.
Oh fuck. I’ve fucked this all up.
I can see exactly how she might have misconstrued my own neurotic spiraling into being cautious around her, being afraid of her. When nothing could be further from the truth.
I step forward, gripping her upper arms and steering us toward the wall so we’re mostly hidden by shadows. My chest brushes against the swell of her breasts and I take a deep breath.
“You demonstrated you were strong. Resilient. Capable. Nothing gross or scary about that. I told you before, Silver. You’re a necromancer and I’m a vampire. It’s almost like we were... fated to meet. To know each other.”
The words come flying out before I can stop them and cram them back into my overeager mouth.
Fuck. I almost wish I’d just admitted to wanting to taste her blood again. It would be better than this; accidentally revealing just how gone over her I am.
The words cannot be unsaid now. They’re out in the world, even though I’ve barely come to terms with them myself.
I am a tired, old cliche. The old vampire lusting after the young, vibrant witch.
But it isn’t just my dick that draws me to Silver. It’s respect. Intrigue. Interest. I want to spend my time talking to her as well as undressing her. I want to be here when she needs someone to lean on.
It almost feels like we were fated to meet. To know each other.
I stifle a wince at the memory of those words. In ten minutes, I can be home, where I can kick my ass and maybe not speak for a month.
Fated, indeed.
I’m an idiot, just waiting for her to laugh at me so I can take myself off and never show my face again.
But... that doesn’t happen.
Of course, it doesn’t. This is Silver we’re talking about. We only met because she agreed to help the Nexus mages. She might think she’s a mercenary at heart, but she isn’t. She wants to help people more than anything.
She blinks up at me. “You really think that? I don’t... disgust you?”
I can barely breathe as I realize how wrong I’ve played this. I should have been comforting her, reassuring her, when instead I lost myself in my head.
“No. Never.” My voice is barely more than a pained rasp.
She stares at me for a moment, then leans up on her toes and cups my jaw with her small hands. Drawing my mouth down to meet hers, she presses her lips to mine.
Her taste explodes on my tongue and I let out a desperate groan.
Fuck. I’m so lost to this witch.