Page 70 of Of Blood and Smoke

The cold tendrils multiplied and traced back up to wind around the side of my neck. A chill breeze prickled my skin, and I whipped my head around, trying to escape the feeling while pulling at the floor with my feet. There was nothing there. The chair rocked back and forth, and then started to tip over.

My shoulder smashed into the hard floor, and I was trapped with an ache radiating down my side. Wincing with pain, I found I could turn myself a little, using the front edge of my shoe, but it was useless. There was no way of telling what Brett planned on doing with me and there was some friend of his or somethingelse down here messing with me. I was on the verge of a full-fledged panic attack.

The lights flicked off, plunging me into darkness. I screamed.

As far as I knew, all the doors and windows were shut. It was not a windy night. There was nothing to account for the Arctic-like breeze that ran over me and forced my teeth into a rattling chatter. It felt like oxygen was being sucked out of my lungs as the cold wind flew down my throat, choking me. My spittle hardened on my skin and a cough was building up deep inside. There was nothing I could do to alleviate the agony.

Still attempting to get away from the invisible presence, my shoe scraped on the floor again, but I was rapidly weakening, unable to breathe.

Next thing I knew, the lights flicked back on, and the door Brett had disappeared through earlier opened at the same moment the rear entryway unlatched.

It felt as if all the air was sucked out of the basement with one largewhooshof wind, tossing my loose hair.I heard screaming, someone yelling, and then Micha bent down in front of me and freed me. Vaguely, I heard him ask if I was all right, but I didn’t get the chance to answer. He pushed his arms under my shoulders when I got on my knees, and I looked toward the commotion.

Vincent was backing up with his hands in the air, shaking his head, and Josiah had Brett lifted in the air by his neck like a trophy. If Micha hadn’t been holding me, I would have collapsed.

My man was all fire and fury, every sculpted bone of his face etched with anger, his black eyes swirling with thick smoke. The color had drained from Brett’s face, his fingers white as he grasped Josiah’s hands, trying to wrench himself free. Josiah twisted, slamming him down onto the floor so hard the concrete split and then he dropped to one knee.

Brett’s head bounced once; the sound hollow. “You dare to touch her? To take her and subject her to your filth?”

Micha glanced at me, likely checking for injury. I gave him a small nod letting him know I was okay. Satisfied, he stood up and I remained on the floor, my legs folded under me.

Josiah raised himself and when Brett tried to wiggle away, he stomped him in the chest with his boot, pinning him. “We’re taking him with us.”

He swung a look at Vincent. “Please forgive us the chaos.”

He waved a hand slowly over Brett’s face and then swung around and was squatting in front of me before I knew what happened. I would have tipped back if he hadn’t caught me. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, his eyes instantly softening when they found my own.

“I am,” I answered, gripping his shoulders for leverage. I stood up and glanced at Brett. He lay prone, his terror filled gaze darting back and forth.

“How is he still alive?” After watching the floor split, I didn’t understand how such a thing was possible.

Josiah looked at me earnestly. “I need him alive and conscious.”

Vincent shoved the body out of his way with a firm kick of his heel, sending Brett toward a corner as he moved closer. “No hard feelings, this wasn’t sanctioned by me.”

Josiah glanced at Micha who then leaned down and grabbed Brett’s legs. I watched as he walked out the back door, dragging him like a blanket. My ex took one last, pleading look at me before his head bounced against the threshold.

“I have no idea what he was going to do to me; he didn’t say,” I said, to no one in particular. No one answered. He’d made it seem like we were going to have never-ending date nights, but I knew that couldn’t have been it. Brett must’ve had other plans. What they were, I doubted I’d ever find out.

The sound of Micha or someone else closing a car trunk echoed through the open door. Vincent glanced in the direction of the noise before turning to Josiah. “You must be Josiah,” he said.

“I am,” he replied.

Vincent leveled a gaze at him. “The strong arm of the Ancients. I’ve heard of you.”

Josiah met his gaze. “I no longer work in the same manner for the Collective.” He beckoned me with two fingers, and I moved to his side.

“Stay on your side of the tracks,” Vincent said.

“I have no interest in your business, I am merely attending to my own,” he said, grasping my hand. He tipped his head to Brett’s friend, and we walked out.

Vincent called after us, “Just a friendly warning.”

The original planswere stuck with, and we drove to Josiah’s home in upstate New York. The car’s tires crunched over gravel as we traversed the long, curved driveway lined with oaks reminiscent of the deep south. Manicured lawns surrounded the stately home—it looked like a manor just as he’d said, and if I hadn’t known any better, I’d have thought we were in the English countryside.

Like the man it belonged to, it held a foreboding air under the moonlight with its dark stone and pitched roofs. The residence looked like no one had been there a while, the windows dark and with a feeling of emptiness permeating the grounds. It was as if there were a void, a distinct lack of any type of life, and we were lost in the vacuum of space.

The breeze blew the loose strands of hair into my eyes while I examined the property. In the distance I thought I saw movement, a slight shifting of shadows that the trees couldn’t be responsible for, and I moved closer to Josiah. The trunk of the vehicle popped open, and Micha bent down.

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