Page 46 of Accidental Vampire

She picked up his arm with two fingers, like it was a dirty or dangerous thing.

“An infinity symbol with a butterfly.”

The woman brought his abused wrist to her mouth, made a show of wiping it clean before sinking into him.

“How about we trade for it? I have a nice Rembrandt for you. A fire sale special.”

She recoiled and spat as if whatever passed her lips were poisoned and foul. She slapped his inanimate face, to punish him for displeasing her. His head lolled towards me, tear-streaked and dead.

You should never end a life in terror.Warren’s words echoed out of my memories. He wasn’t angry that I killed that fisherman, he was angry that the man’s last moments were full of fear. He taught me how to bite properly after that. How to exchange their blood for the unearthly pleasure that vampires could offer, if they chose to. He taught me how to taste and not torment.

This was all so fucking wrong. They were people, not things.

I pulled the hood off and raised my chin, letting all my arrogance fly. The energy in the room shifted, and more than one hand slipped into clothing to seek weapons. Shaw turned his head slightly to me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Halberd went still.

“Lachlan,” he said when he found his voice. “Who let you out of your cage? Heard you traded up, leaving your trash maker to dust and dirt.”

Heat flared in me at the mention of Warren. There was no space in me right now for grief or pain, as indignation bloomed. I was exhausted by the grief, but I refused to let Halberd use it like a weapon against me.

“You’re too pretty for this side of town. Something might happen to that face.”

“Give Shaw the girl.”

Halberd’s jaw twitched at my simple statement. He knew what it was. A threat on behalf of Veronica.

He tapped his chin like he was thinking about it. “We don’t keep our livestock in the city,” he said smugly. A delay tactic, perhaps, or just another opportunity to confirm his superior debasement.

I scanned the faces of those littering his space, propping up his power. They were all forgettable, inconsequential, until my eyes landed on Saint.

He was behind the grand couch, leaning on his forearms. His luscious blond curls that I used to lose myself in, were gone, shorn almost to his head. He could be bald, scarred, and broken and still be the most beautiful creature on this earth. And his smile. Saint was smiling at me like he did, like when we’d wake in the evening, like I was his greatest joy, the star in his endless sky. Like I mattered. Like he loved me. Like he loved me still.

The look on his face, the day Saint left me, the day he ended that eternity, not even that face could have been ugly. He still had unearthly beauty when he tore my heart out, told me the end was now. Beautiful when he broke one leg, then the other, so I wouldn’t continue to chase him, run down the motorcycle he fled from me on. Beautiful when he told me I was worthless, when he said he traded me for his Bond Price. All his promises and forever days together in exchange for a bag of gold.

A bag of gold given to him by the decrepit monster stealing children.

I ripped my eyes away from Saint’s smile, glowing, gorgeous, and poisonous.

“How about just her head then? It will be my gift,” Halberd laughed at his limp joke. No one else did, though.

My silence was piercing and demanding. All the pain, blinding into nothingness. The vampires around him shifted, uncomfortable. I could feel Shaw next to me, the only one unaffected.

Rolf Halberd was nothing more than a pathetic thug, adrift in a sea of monsters. I saw the moment it dawned on him. It wasn’t just me standing here, it was Veronica, her shadow infecting the whole space. She was the threat, not me, her pet and plaything. I watched him slowly gather his wits to dig his way out. I wouldn’t give him even that.

“Return the girl. You have two days.” I had no doubt I would be obeyed.

I turned my back on them all, on the radiance of Saint’s smile. I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. There was no air in here, just tainted memories and foul deeds. I could feel Saint’s smile burning into my back as I made my way to the exit, the weight of it suffocating. People fell over themselves to get out of my way. I dared not look at the dead boy or I might tear limbs off of everyone in this place. Shaw was with me, keeping pace, his presence was an odd comfort. One of the sycophants at the door jumped right to it, holding it wide for us.

I struggled for breath on the street, walking blindly back to the car, feeling like I was losing a part of myself with each step. I pulled to a stop.

“Yes,” Shaw said flatly, before I could even formulate a question from the mess of them floating in my head. “I used you.”

“Well, at least you’re honest about it.” I jammed my hands in the pockets of this cursed hoodie.

He didn’t flinch or offer apologies, but he gave an explanation. “If I took her back, it would have taken longer and been more violent.”

I nodded. That was indeed true. I felt laid bare and raw and Shaw was the last person I wanted to see that. But I couldn’t force myself away.

He gave me a lopsided smile. I expected smug satisfaction to roll off of him. Or avarice, delight at squeezing results out of the Legate. But there was almost pity in his eyes. An understanding backed with experience.

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