Page 10 of Blood

All of us, even Vin, turn to stare at Balor, where he leans against the front door of the room. Sometimes, it’s hard to reconcile him with the monster who once lived inside Jack and Hux’s head. His new body is almost angelic in appearance, with soft blond hair and guileless features. But his eyes are the same, no matter the face he wears—hard, unyielding, and brimming with primitive savagery.

Balor glances at each of us, as if confirming he has our attention, before reclosing his eyes and plopping his head against the door.

“If we try to escape, Zeus will merely use us against Violet again. She’s safer with us in here than out there.”

An insidious sensation slithers through me at his words. It reminds me eerily of dark tar seeping through my pores and contaminating my bloodstream.

The truth in his words...they ring out like a death toll.

Vin’s red-rimmed eyes swivel until they’re homed in on Balor’s impassive face. Splotches erupt on his cheeks as he curls his hand into a tight fist. “Why the fuck do you even care? You hate Violet!”

A wry, humorless smirk touches the corners of Balor’s lips. “That may be true,” he admits, finally snapping his eyes open. “But I think she may be the only one who can save us all.”

“Do you mean the Fomorian?” Hux asks scathingly, his upper lip curled away from his teeth.

The Fomorians are an ancient race of monsters that have been locked away in Hell for many years. Balor has been trying to free them and seems to think Violet is the key. Originally, he blackmailed Lucifer into releasing his people, but now that Lucifer is somewhere in Mount Olympus as Zeus’s prisoner...

I have no idea what Balor thinks Violet will do, but unease skates down my spine like an ice cube.

I don’t like his interest in my mate.

Not at all.

I can understand, objectively, his fascination with Violet’s powers. I suppose that, if the situations were reversed, I’d be the same as him. I would want to study Violet and discover what she could offer me. What types of powers does she possess, being the daughter of Hera and Lucifer? What can she do? How would she be able to free the Fomorians from their prison?

But that was the old me—the Frankie consumed by knowledge and science and experiments.

This new one has a different obsession, one with blonde hair, a penchant for pink and black, and a smile capable of cutting through my defenses like a serrated blade.

Violet Dracula.

“Believe it or not, brother,” Balor tells Hux coolly, pulling me out of my thoughts, “we have the same goals.”

Hux bares his teeth at the other male. “I’ll rip you apart limb from limb and weave your innards into a necklace if you hurt my precious treasure. So help me—”

Balor waves a hand in the air, as if he’s capable of physically swatting Hux’s words away. “Don’t be daft, brother. Why would I want Violet dead?” The smile on his face sends a jolt of fear through me. “After all, she is the world’s savior.”

CHAPTER 5

VIOLET

Why am I not surprised that the most feared and revered monsters in all of creation have a stronghold in a motherfucking museum?

Using my hand as a makeshift visor, I peer up at the ginormous Field Museum in Chicago, currently teeming with tourists, school groups, and security guards.

Honestly, it makes sense for the monsters to have one of their council buildings here. Who in their right mind would willingly go to a museum?

I can’t help but admire the building’s Greek architecture and painted embellishments. It looks like something you would see in Mount Olympus. The four white pillars guarding the entrance become even bigger the closer we venture. I swear those damn things give me an inferiority complex.

I wonder if that bastard Zeus had a part to play in the Field Museum’s creation...

I follow Alex up the steep staircase, bypassing a few tourists who are attempting to take a picture in front of the entrance. I resist the urge to photobomb the pictures with my middle finger, because I’m a mature, elegant lady about to go into battle.

Not because I have to practically run to keep up with Alex, causing me to pant erratically and stop every other second to fan my reddening face.

Nope. Not because of that. At all.

“Slow. Down,” I wheeze when we reach the front entrance of the museum, hidden behind those damn pillars. I place my hands on my knees and attempt to get much needed air back into my lungs. Staircases and I don’t go well together. We’re like...water and fire. Donuts and a diet. Exercise and binge-watching Netflix.

---