Page 60 of Blood Bound

“When I moved here a few months ago, everyone accepted me for who I am and people wanted to be friends with me! But… it’s just sad knowing that this town I see as my home now actually has a history soaked in blood.”

Oh, honey… you have no frigging idea.

“Most little towns are like that though, Noah. The witch hunts, the tortures, people forcing their religion on others. Every single town in this country has a blood-soaked past; we’re basically standing on their sacrifices right now.” I say, knowing full well that my family is responsible for most of the hunts back then.

Noah sighs and lays his head on the table. “It’s terrible what people do when they’re scared, fear is such a strong trigger that it makes people kill one another.” He groans, then shakes his head. “Ah, sorry for getting so negative. I didn’t have enough sleep last night and had the weirdest dreams.”

I ruffle his hair and get to my feet. “No worries. Take it easy for a little while and if you need to go home, let me know,” I say, then walk behind the counter just as a few customers arrive.

What Noah said stuck with me right up until closing time. I didn’t think of it in the way he described it. My father raised me to think that any supernatural creature is evil and needs to be killed. But I never stopped to think about why.

As far as I know, the werewolf mafia family who owns New York has killed no one they didn’t have to. In fact, they have an estate hidden from human eyes, where they can turn on full moon nights without the risk of hurting others.

Are they still the bad guys when they actively try not to harm humans? Or are they the bad guys because of who they are?

Damn, this boy has me thinking about my past and what I’ve done to others. I had a rigid moral compass, directing me to what I thought was right and wrong. I haven’t thought about this since Gabriel told me the truth about my father, and now it’s all coming back to me again.

All of a sudden, the lights in the cafe start to flicker just as Noah and I close up the shop. The storm that has been threatening all day finally hits when lightning cracks and a sudden cloudburst opens up, drenching us.

“Ah, fuck! Are you going to be okay?” Noah calls when he sees Clem’s car. “The streetlights aren’t on!”

“I’ll be fine! My car is right there!” I call back over my shoulder as I lock up, then I hear a ‘see you tomorrow!’ before their vehicle drives off. Noah worries too much. I’m sure he would freak the fuck out if he knew who I really am.

“Fuck,” I grumble while blindly walking to where I parked my car around the corner… only to see it isn’t there.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears and for the first time in months, fear crawls up my skin and causes me to break out in a cold sweat. I take a tentative step backward and try to scan my surroundings, but the rain is blinding my vision badly.

No streetlights, rain, and the sounds of thunder - I might as well have no fucking senses.

Then above the rain pelting down around me, I can hear light footsteps sneaking up behind me and before I can react, an arm wraps around my neck and I get pulled into the alley behind the cafe.

I kick against the wall closest to me and we hurtle towards the floor, sprawling out over the metal trash cans. Struggling to get to my feet, I realize this person is faster than me and when he aims a foot against my midsection; I am too slow to react again.

My eyes widen as I am winded by the pain, and he lands another blow that causes me to cry out. I grit my teeth and spin on my heel to aim a blow at his face, but he dodges me yet again and jabs a shot at my temple.

Spots of white clouds my vision and I instinctively grab at the side of my head, only to come away with blood before another blow lands on the same spot.

I cry out and fall to my knees and attempt to crawl away from my assailant, but I hear him chuckle loudly behind me.

“That 20 mil bounty is mine, whore,” he says in a gruff voice laced with years of nicotine abuse.

“Fuck… you…” I groan, stumbling when I try to get to my feet and sprawling over the concrete floor again. He grips my hair from behind and pulls hard, causing me to cry out.

“No, thanks; that pussy’s been tainted by a vamp cock. Fucking Katherine Décès, daughter of the great Alexander Décès, and I have her right in the palm of my fucking hand. No wonder he wants you dead or alive; you’re a fucking disgrace!” He huffs.

Then, as I’m on my knees, I feel the cold steel of a Beretta pressed against the back of my head and the sound of the hammer being pulled back.

Years of training and for what? How have I become this weak in just a few months? As much as I hate to admit it, this fucker is right… I am a disgrace.

It is the end for me. This isn’t Xenia who will drop her weapon and understand; this is a ruthless bounty hunter sent by my father to bring me home either dead or alive. For some reason, a laugh bubbles up into my throat and I realize that I’m about to die at the hand of someone who was probably an ally once.

So, I close my eyes and wait for death to finally take me.

Only it doesn’t come and I feel a warm splatter on my back and the unmistakable sounds of a throat being ripped open - the gurgling and smell of blood sends a heavy wave of nausea shooting through my body and I nearly double over.

But the scent of expensive whiskey and burnt wood chase the uneasy feeling away. Something tells me that I must have died when that bounty hunter jabbed me against my head, but the uneven thumping of my heart says I am painfully alive.

“Hello, little lamb,”

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