Page 79 of Blood Bound

Iwait silently in the darkness, waiting for the pull of our bond to grow stronger. The warmth of the gold pendant is building to the point that it’s burning my skin.

And I feel her. The pull has me turning to face a looming structure barely a hundred yards away from the station.

Bingo.

I approach the abandoned industrial building, my footsteps silent on the cracked pavement. The scent of rust and damp concrete fills my nostrils, but there’s something else. Something that lifts the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

Magic.

I pause, focusing my heightened senses. The magical signatures are faint, barely detectable, but they’re there. Intertwined with them is the familiar scent of vampires. Something is out of whack. This isn’t just the trace of witches in the vicinity; it’s magic at work. This combination shouldn’t exist.

I’ve lived for over a thousand years, and in all that time, I’ve never encountered vampires and witches working together like this. It’s unnatural. Wrong. There’s something deeper, more sinister at play here.

I scan the building, noting the boarded-up windows and rusted metal doors. The train tracks nearby are silent, but I can smell the lingering scent of oil and steel. It’s the perfect hiding place – secluded, forgotten by the world.

As I move closer, the magical signatures grow stronger, confirming my suspicions. They’re not just residual traces; there are active spells at work here. Wards, probably. Designed to keep intruders out – or perhaps to keep something in.

I think of Rowan, trapped inside. The blood bond between us pulses faintly, confirming her presence. But there’s something off about it, like static on a radio frequency. Whatever spells are in place, they’re interfering with our connection. The reason I haven’t been able to feel her.

My fangs extend involuntarily as anger surges through me. Whoever is behind this – whatever their motives – they’ve made a grave mistake.

They’ve taken what’s mine.

I pull out my phone, fingers flying over the screen as I compose a message to Marcus. Every second counts, but I can’t rush in blindly. Not when the stakes are this high.

“Marcus, I’ve found her. Abandoned industrial building near the old train station on the outskirts of witch territory. Magic and vampires involved. Inform Evelyn Blackwood immediately. Proceeding with caution. Need backup.”

I hit send, knowing Marcus will understand the urgency. Part of me wants to wait, to have the full force of our allies behind me. But the pull of the blood bond is growing stronger, more insistent. Rowan’s in there, and she needs me now.

Time to move.

I approach the building. The wards shimmer faintly in my vision, hinting at the power behind them. But I’ve faced worse in my long existence. I reach out, testing the magical barrier with my own energy.

There’s a weakness. Subtle, but present. Whether by design or oversight, I can’t be sure. But it’s my way in.

I focus my power, centuries of experience channeled into this moment. The ward bends, then parts like a curtain. I slip through, the magic snapping back into place behind me.

Inside, the air is thick with the mingled scents of magic and vampires. It’s wrong, discordant, setting my teeth on edge. But beneath it all, I catch a faint trace of something familiar. Rowan.

She’s close.

I keep moving silently, then freeze when something catches my attention. A familiar odor wafts through the air, one I’ve caught traces of on Rowan before. It’s…it’s… Heath! That fucking witch boy. Every muscle tenses as I strain to hear, catching fragments of conversation.

“…need to get rid of her…Blackwood witch…”

Motherfucker!

Heath is involved in this, and they’re planning to kill Rowan. I’d anticipated the worst when I first sensed the twisted combination of vampire presence and magic in this godforsaken place. But this? A witch working with vampires? It seems incomprehensible, yet here’s the proof.

Suddenly, Rowan’s jumbled thoughts from earlier make sense. The feeling of betrayal that had seeped through our bond… I push down an unexpected twinge of jealousy. Did it hurt her to discover that the male she’d been close to had betrayed her? I shake off the thought. There are more pressing matters at hand.

My fangs extend fully, rage coursing through my veins. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve lived or what I’ve seen in that time; this level of treachery still manages to surprise me. Heath, the one Rowan trusted, the one her family trusted, working with their enemies. Planning to kill her.

I move silently through the shadows, following Heath’s scent and the sound of his voice. Every fiber of my being screams to rush in, to tear apart anyone who dares threaten what’s mine. But centuries of self-control hold me back. I need more information. I need to understand the full scope of this betrayal before I act.

As I creep closer, I catch another snippet of conversation. Heath’s voice, tinged with urgency and…is that regret?

“…no other choice. If they find out I’m involved…”

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