Page 115 of Dark Souls

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve watched you. Seen you around with that she-wolf. She’s your woman, right? You pay for her membership, lavish her with gifts and designer clothes, fuck her and make her feel special. You must care for her.”

Sweat was now running down his temples. “Sammi? I… er… yeah, I guess.”

“So, tell me… how do you expect me to believe you have any loyalty to me and my club when you aren’t loyal to her?”

His eyes narrowed, anger mixing with fear at my audacity to discuss his personal life. I smirked when I saw the wolf in him, wanting to rip my throat out.

“I wasn’t aware there was a new rule that members had to be faithful to their partners at this club.”

“There isn’t.” I turned to face him, giving him the full savageness just beneath the surface of my skin as I ran my tongue down one of my fangs, nipping it in the process and spitting blood on the floor next to his polished shoes. “It was just an observation. A reminder that actions speak louder than words.”

“Right,” he said with uncertainty. He grabbed his glass from the bar and nodded to me over the rim of the glass. “I’ll take that onboard, but I had best get back to my table.”

“You have a good night.” I smiled, flashing razor-sharp fangs as he narrowed his eyes and moved rapidly away from me. Damn, I wanted him to give me a reason to kill him so fucking badly. Was it irrational and ruthless to want a man dead because he stroked my mate’s arm? Yes. Did I give a flying fuck? No.

I turned back to the bar, lowering my head once again so no one would dare bother me, and erased the profiles of the six vampires that were killed at The Pleasure Den from the club’s system. I paused on a profile when I noticed he was a member of the Romano Clan. The next was too. My eyes widened. I slammed my fist down on the bar and swore in Serbian.

This was the last thing I needed. If this man had family or friends that cared about him, hell, if he even worked for Arius at the castle, I was fucking screwed. The royals had stayed out ofThe Underground’s business since they came into power. I could only presume it was because I’d done a fucking good job of making sure nothing reached them, so they didn’t feel the need to get involved, but this… this they wouldn’t overlook. Especially now they’d met me in person and allowed Ilaria to be a part of it. And if they get too close to all this and The Devil finds out they are sniffing around… there is no knowing what he’ll demand. And Ilaria’s determination to gain information from members at the club would be too fucking risky, hidden identity or not.

I deleted all evidence that they were ever members and I already knew Heathen would have dealt with the bodies and got rid of their membership cards. Hopefully, thoroughly this time. I blew out a breath as I tried to calm myself down. It was fine. There was nothing pointing towardsThe Underground’s involvement. As long as those men had kept to the club’s rules and not told a soul they were members, it was all good.

I cracked my neck to the side, my bones aching and sat up straight. I checked the clock above the bar. Thank fuck. Two AM. Time to kick the fuckers out. I stood up, turning my attention to the room and folding my arms as the bouncers rang the bell to indicate it was time to pack up their shit, take their winnings and get the fuck out.

No one met my eye, a sign of respect and submission, as they strolled past me and left. No one except Hugo. His gaze shifted to the floor quickly, realising his mistake, but it was too late. It was the excuse I’d been looking for. I might not kill him for it, but I could definitely make him bleed. Once the last member had left, I locked up and walked straight round the back of the bar to the car park. A few members were still hanging around, chatting and smoking or waiting for their rides, but they quickly dispersed when they saw me coming with madness blazing in my red eyes. My vision locked on the back of Hugo’s head as he stood with two other members next to a Lexus. Before he could sense me coming, I blurred up behind him, grabbed the back of his head and smashed his face into the bonnet of the car. Spinning around in a violent rage, ready to shift into his wolf form, he swore, but I punched him so hard in the face that he was knocked out cold. I glared at the two other men, who were inching backwards with their hands raised.

“You saw nothing,” I hissed as they nodded, climbed into their cars and sped away. I crouched down over his body and waited for him to return to the land of the living. He groaned as he came around, and I leaned over his face so he knew exactly who he’d pissed off. His eyes widened, giving me the perfect target. I grabbed his throat in one hand, pinning him down as I drove my thumb into his eyeball until blood poured down his face and I felt the satisfying pop. He screamed and thrashed beneath me until I removed my thumb and his hands flew up to his mangled eye.

“In the future, be careful who you dare to look at. I’ll leave the other eye just so you can prove your loyalty.” I stood up and stepped back. He panted and sat up against his flashy car.

“You’re fucking twisted!”

“Yeah,” I said, turning my back to him as I walked towards my motorbike. “I am.”

Dangerous Hope

Idroverecklessly,swervingaroundcorners so low my knees grazed the concrete until I was back at the manor, all because I was itching to text Ilaria. I didn’t dare take the phone to an event where it could be reported back to The Devil by the bouncers or Wesley that I owned one. And I would be far too tempted to message Ilaria all night.

Climbing off my scrambler, I ruffled my hair back in place to get rid of the windswept look. I never bothered with a helmet. There wasn’t much point in taking safety precautions where I was concerned. The moment I entered the entrance hall, I paused. Something was… different. A warm glow shone from under the door of the library room. A room I had rarely set foot in. I inhaled deeply, catching the subtle but warming floral and spicy scent of rose and pepper. Shoving open the door, I held my breath when I saw Ilaria’s petite body curled up on the shabby sofa under a blanket. The crackling flames in the open fireplace, spitting and popping, melted the icy chill that always seemed at home in these old stone walls.

I approached slowly, staring down at her as she slept. Her white hair was cascading over the arm of the sofa and her soft, porcelain skin flushed a rosy shade on her cheeks from the warmth of the fire. I dropped to my knees beside her, mesmerised by her parted red lips and the crescent shadows her thick lashes cast on her cheeks. If she woke up and found me like this, she’d call me a fucking creep but I didn’t care. Her beauty was fascinating to me. I’d never seen anything like her in all my years on this Earth. And I knew nothing would ever compete with her in this life or the next.

When I finally tore my eyes away from her face, I noticed she’d fallen asleep with that thick, leather-bound journal in her lap, open on a page of her scribblings. If I had my humanity, I’d probably respect her privacy and close it. Instead, I gently lifted it from her loose grip and read.

What I know so far:

Heathen is a Demonski Upir. Is he the last one? He has a painful past. Were his loved ones hunted and killed?

The Knowltons were the founders of The Underground, dating back centuries ago.

---