Page 46 of Claimed By Blood

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

EVELYN

It tooka lot of work to convince Frost to leave me alone, and leaving Immy back at the hotel by herself is not something I do lightly. But Gideon’s idea of having us search in pairs isn’t working. Facing us in groups is too intimidating a gamble for Samuel to take.

He’s far more likely to go to ground if he feels out-numbered.

Better to give him the false belief that he can pick us off one by one.

Even then, there’s no guarantee he won’t just hide. Samuel was never one for outright conflict. It was how he survived so long when Cain started ordering the deaths of our other brothers.

I’ve concealed all my weapons and made myself as tempting and vulnerable a target as possible. Now, as I stroll along the lamp-lit streets of the most deserted part of this town—a place I know Frost sent me because it was the place I was least likely to be in danger—I pray that I’ve done the right thing.

Still, it’s beginning to feel like a bust, and the waves of pleasure coming from Finn’s bond are quickly becoming distracting. As I turn the corner, I’m seriously considering returning to our makeshift base and seeing if he wants another partner.

Only I’m jarred out of my fantasy as I turn the corner and immediately notice the figure standing in the middle of the road.

With his hood up, there’s no way I can see his face or make out his features, but it’s unmistakablyhim.

“Samuel.”

He gives me a small bow, and my hand drops to where the pommel of my sword is hidden beneath the folds of my long coat.

“I just want to talk,” I begin, not releasing my grip on the weapon.

Samuel is older than me. He might even be older than any vampire who still lives—except Cain, of course—and to vampires, age equals power.

A sudden burst of sadness and frustration from Finn distracts me, and I automatically glance in the omega’s direction, despite the distance between us.

One blink is all it takes. When I look back, Samuel’s gone.

“Shit.”

I hasten towards the spot where he was standing, only to grimace as I see the open manhole cover.

He’s living in the sewers?Really?

No wonder we couldn’t find him. The smell alone would’ve overpowered immortal senses.

I eye the hole in the ground suspiciously. Urgency says I should follow and try to pick up any trail I can. That would be foolish. I’m outmatched, and I know it. So instead, I take my phone out and shoot a message to the pack, watching as their replies trickle in one by one.

All of them tell me to stay put.

Ugh, men.As if I was going to do anything else.

They’re lucky Finn tucked the device into my pocket before I left this evening. I still haven’t gotten the hang of taking it everywhere like they do. It’s just one more of the modern habits I have yet to learn.

Frost arrives first, only to stare at the open drain in horror, pinching his nostrils shut with his fingers.

“God, that’s foul. Please tell me he’s not down there.” He sees my guilty look and grimaces. “Great. I should’ve brought nose plugs.”

Oh, right. Being half ghoul—with their sensitive sense of smell—must have its downsides.

Silas arrives after Frost, his face twisted in a similar expression of distaste, and Morwen follows soon after him.

“Is this all of us?” I ask, staring into the darkness.

“Gideon is keeping an eye on Finn and Mia,” Silas confirms after checking his phone. “Vane will catch up. He was farther away.”

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