Page 4 of Map of Pain
Luka found himself leaning closer, inhaling. Beneath the rot-sweet smell of dying tissue and sour fever sweat, something else lingered. Something uniquely him—metallic determination wrapped in vanilla stubbornness, fear threaded through with savage hope.
The scent pulled at something deep in his chest.
For weeks, Luka had moved through the city’s shadows with careful purpose, distributing care packages to homeless encampments. Sandwiches in wax paper, water bottles, clean socks, basic medical supplies. The work satisfied something essential in him—helping society’s discarded, providing comfort to the forgotten. His beast approved of protecting the vulnerable.
That his mental catalog of potential feeding targets was equally practical didn’t contradict the impulse. Which humans were healthy enough to survive blood loss, which were unlikely to be missed. Care took many forms.
The hunter had been following him for weeks now, a persistent shadow with increasingly erratic attack patterns. At first, Lukaassumed the hunter would give up or succumb to his obvious infection. When neither happened, curiosity replaced caution.
Who was this stubborn human? Why did he persist despite his deteriorating condition? No backup, no support structure—just dogged determination and crossbow bolts that came closer each night.
The game had become Luka’s favorite distraction from Matteo’s worsening condition. While his twin withdrew deeper into silence and refused blood, Luka found himself anticipating the hunter’s ambush attempts. He’d deliberately triggered the hunter’s warning systems, allowed himself to be spotted, even taken a bolt to the ribs to extend their encounters.
Now the hunter lay broken at his feet, fever burning through his too-thin frame. Game over.
Luka touched the wound on his side where tonight’s bolt had pierced him. Already healing, barely a twinge of discomfort. He could walk away. Let nature take its course. The smart choice.
Instead, he gathered the hunter into his arms again.
The hunter’s head found Luka’s shoulder, breathing ragged against his neck. Up close, beneath infection and gasoline, other scents emerged—gunpowder, metal, and something achingly familiar that made his beast pace restlessly.
He smelled like Caleb Walsh, the mousy human who had captured the heart of the unofficial head of their little vampire family. But he also smelled sad, and angry, and alone.Nick Walsh. The Society operative gone rogue after he chose to save Caleb rather than watch him burn alive. Luka hadn’t witnessed the massacre, but he certainly helped with the clean up, and he distinctly remembered finding a severed hand in a gas soaked room near the body of a Society operative whose brains had been unceremoniously splattered on the wall. The entire family had been searching—checking hospitals, morgues, homeless shelters, for someone matching Nick’s description.
Luka studied Nick’s face more carefully. High cheekbones, strong jaw—features that might have been more handsome before malnutrition and fever hollowed them out. A purple scar stretched across his throat, jagged and deliberate. Not a feeding mark. It was a killing blow, though from the edges of it, a hesitant one.
Something fierce and protective unfurled in Luka’s chest.
Stupid. This human had tried to kill him and would probably try again if he survived. He was trained to destroy vampires like Luka.
Yet the thought of leaving Nick to die alone in this empty lot felt wrong. Maybe because Matteo was suffering and Luka couldn’t fix it. Maybe because ending their game this way left him hollow. Maybe because something about Nick Walsh intrigued his beast in ways he didn’t understand.
Luka shifted Nick’s weight and retrieved his phone one-handed, fingers moving across the screen.
Are you working tonight? Need forgotten ward access.
Jae-Jae
Yes, but why? This sounds like trouble.
Medical emergency. Unofficial patient.
Jae-Jae
How unofficial? Scale of 1 to vampire?
Human hunter. Infected. Will die without help.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, reappeared. Finally:
Jae-Jae
...This is really stupid, Luka.
I know.
He pocketed the phone and surveyed the area. The hospital was four miles northeast—minutes at vampire speed, but carrying Nick complicated things. The hunter’s heartbeat grew more erratic with each passing moment, his breathing increasingly labored. The temporary pain relief Luka had provided earlier wouldn’t address the underlying infection.
Nick mumbled something incoherent, head turning restlessly against Luka’s shoulder. His hand gripped Luka’s shirt, fingers curling into fabric, seeking comfort even unconscious from a monster he’d been hunting.
