Page 6 of Bleeding Love

'It's not like I have anything better to do,'I told myself while I sniffed the seal, trying to catch its owner’s scent beneath the stench of magic and burned timber. They never took those off as far as I knew, so the smell lingered just enough for me to memorize it. Slipping the seal into my pocket, I gave the charred ground one last look before heading back to the town.

I made sure there was no soot on my clothes or shoes when I stepped onto the cobbled street—there was no need for me to announce where I had been when speculations about the fire were still going around. Getting attention on myself was only going to be bothersome—that’s why I had the house spelled in the first place, and the servants compelled into submission. They were all going to die when I left, but for now, they served a purpose.

I followed the scent of the Guardian street after street until I ended up at the town’s church. Not so surprisingly, the trail led to its back entrance.

I had already surveyed the place a few months prior, finding nothing of note. I had been convinced it was just a regular church, serving its flock in the capacity it claimed it did, not a secret place for the Order to coordinate from. It seemed I was wrong.

There were many more scents coming in and out of that back door, some laced with hate, others with hunger. It was hard to tell how many hunters were there, and if the witch got them all last night, but I knew one thing for certain—there would be more soon.

The wind changed direction, and a new scent carried toward me, making me tense in alert. I stood perfectly still, trying to determine where the other vampire was exactly when slow steps approached me from behind.

Not to attack, I discerned, which was the only reason I didn’t tear their head off. My eyes stopped on the darkness in the alley between the nearest buildings, waiting as the creature drew near. When they stepped under the dim light of the street lanterns, their steps grew completely silent.

I relaxed ever so slightly when I recognized him. Tall and slender, the vampire wore an impeccable dress suit in deep purple, his brown hair styled and tied at the base of his neck. A hat nested on his head, which he tipped in greeting as he met my eyes.

“Vincent.” I nodded in return.

I had met him and his maker, Josiah, on several occasions during my own Master’s travels. She and Josiah were old friends, or enemies, or lovers—probably all of those at some point in time—and often sought each other’s company or assistance when the Elder Council gave them a task. That made Vincent and I…acquaintances of a sort.

“Roman, what a sight for sore eyes!” Vincent grinned, flashing me his pearl-white teeth. His fangs sprung out, but he quickly pulled his lips over them before I took it as a provocation. A whiff of blood came from him as he slid his hands into his pockets—likely because he had just fed on some idiot who decided to take a shortcut through a dark alley. “I heard you were loitering around these parts.”

“I do not loiter,” I said, turning my back on him.

He fell in stride with me, hands still in his pockets, while he looked around the dimly lit street.

“Don’t be sour, Roman, I was just jesting. Shall we have a drink? I’m feeling rather parched tonight.” His eyes lingered on a pair of men who were just passing us by, and he even turned to stare at them over his shoulder.

“I am busy,” I replied, suppressing a sigh. A drink sounded divine at this point. The witch had dealt a lot of damage yesterday, but the thought of going back to that bland taste of mundane human blood made me grimace. And there was no way in hell I was sharingher.

“With what?” Vincent asked, finally tearing his eyes away from his unsuspecting victims. “I thought you were just sitting around, waiting for your Master to come pick up your leash.”

I let out a low warning sound, and he sighed dramatically.

“With a problem that is none of your business,” I replied, knowing full well that if I didn’t tell him something, he’d just pester me more. The spell around the house was designed to keep everyone that was not a vampire in—I needed to be able to leave, and of course, I couldn’t keep my Master out in case she decided to return without warning. Vincent seemed ready to ask more annoying questions, so I countered. “What are you doing in this forsaken place?”

“I was just passing through when I caught your scent.” He shrugged, turning his eyes forward. I didn’t believe that for a second, but I also didn’t care to prod further. As long as he didn’t cause a problem that made me leave this town, he could keep his reasons to himself. “I’m actually on my way to meet with my Maker,” he continued, smiling at a woman who passed us by. The human hurried away, her heartbeat racing—whether it was fear or excitement from the attention, it was hard to tell. “Where is your Master? She got bored with you already?”

I sighed with annoyance, but his smile didn’t falter even for a moment.

“She was summoned by the Elder Council. I didn’t feel like meeting them, so I decided to wait for her here.”

The weight of Vincent’s gaze made me turn my head to find him staring with a mocking grin.

“You really are like an obedient puppy! I can’t believe someone your age is still so dependent on their Maker. The others have been talking, Roman, and they find it unusual—a sign of weakness, if you will. If you continue like this, you’ll never make it to Master.”

“I don’t care,” I replied, looking away from his taunting smile. “I have no reason not to follow her, and I have nothing else to do.” Vincent snorted, but I ignored him. “Didn’t you just mention that you are going to meet your Maker too?”

Vincent adjusted the hat on his head, his pace slowing down, so I stopped as well. We had ended up right in the middle of a crossroad, and the street on my left ought to lead me to the house. The other vampire looked in the opposite direction before turning to face me. The smile returned to his lips.

“The difference between us, mon ami, is that I separated from my Maker two centuries ago. I am living my own life, making my own decisions, and enjoying everything this world has to offer. I am equal to my Maker now, and he has no more power over me than I am willing to give. You, Roman, have been your Maker’s plaything for centuries. I’ve heard the stories. You know she doesn’t really care about you, don’t you? None of them do. They made us because they wanted to, because they could, not because of some altruistic reasons. That’s just how vampires are—a little more than a corpse, and a lot less than a human. What do you expect from a heart that is dead? Few are lucky to find a soul-bonded, and even then…” He trailed off, his smile faltering. “Forgive me. I’ve just fed on a poet and I might be catching onto his nonsense. I will leave you then, but I’ll be back for that drink—if your Maker hasn’t reclaimed you already, of course. Until then, farewell, Roman.”

Without waiting for my reply, Vincent vanished into another alley, the smell of blood and death trailing behind him. I watched the shadows, making sure he was gone, before heading down the street toward the house. On the outside, it looked like a perfectly normal home with its dark walls, closed shutters, and sleek rooftop. Beyond the spell that hid it from the humans, the coat had started to peel; the windows were shattered by the witch’s outburst, and there was a hole in the roof.

The house was quiet, and as much as I strained to hear, I couldn’t detect the witch’s voice. Her scent was strong and fresh, so she was in there somewhere.

I stopped at the front of the door, swallowing the bitter aftertaste the conversation with Vincent had left in my mouth, before turning the handle. I had barely made it past the threshold when something flew toward my chest. I grabbed the two sharpened stakes just as they were about to pierce my body, and the moment I made contact with the wood, pain exploded everywhere. I could feel my skin burn at the touch, melting and sizzling from whatever the weapon was coated with.

It took everything in me not to hiss in annoyance, but seeing the witch stand by the door of the reception room made it easier to swallow the pain. Without the dirt, the blood, and her tattered clothes, she looked like an entirely different person. Long, coppery hair framed her pale, oval face, where a pair of full lips were now pressing into a thin line. Her eyes were brimming with that fire I’d seen when she fought the hunters, but it was muted, waiting.

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