Page 127 of Nocturne

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, focusing on her. Not just her scent or the memory of her face, but the essence of her—the connection we’ve forged through blood and body and something deeper. Something that defies rational explanation, leaving only a supernatural one.

And there it is—a tug in my chest, subtle but undeniable. A compass needle pointing toward true north.

“I can feel her,” I whisper, surprised by the gravelly quality of my voice in this half-transformed state. “She’s alive. In pain, but alive.”

“Where?” Adonis asks, already moving toward the door.

I turn, following the invisible thread that binds me to Lena. “Northeast. Downtown, I think. Industrial district.”

“Let’s go,” Valtu says, grabbing a leather jacket from the back of a chair. “Adonis drives. Callahan navigates.”

We pile into Abe’s Packard—Adonis behind the wheel, Valtu riding shotgun, Abe, Ezra and me in the back. They place me in the middle, for safety’s sake, just in case I lose control and try and jump out of the vehicle. As the car roars to life, I focus on that tenuous connection between Lena and I, letting it grow stronger, clearer.

“Take Sunset,” I instruct, leaning forward between the front seats. “Then north on Figueroa.”

Adonis nods, pulling onto the highway with precise control, accelerating until the speedometer climbs past ninety.

“I just need to ask,” says Abe from beside me. “How much of your vampire self are you aware of? How much is Callahan right now?”

“Both. Neither,” I reply, the contradiction making perfect sense to me now. “The division is fading. I can feel the vampire’s hunger, its need for blood and violence, but it doesn’t control me. It’s just…part of me.”

“Remarkable,” he murmurs.

“Necessity,” Ezra suggests from my other side. “The mind adapts when survival demands it.”

I barely hear them, focused on the pull growing stronger with each mile. “East now,” I instruct as we reach downtown. “Near the railroad yards.”

Adonis follows my directions without question, navigating through morning traffic with preternatural reflexes. Finally, I feel it—a sharp tug in my chest, almost painful in its intensity. I even smell her now.

Night jasmine.

“Stop here,” I command, and Adonis pulls to the curb three blocks from our destination.

The warehouse rises before us, decrepit and abandoned, windows boarded over, chain-link fence surrounding the perimeter. It looks like dozens of other buildings in this industrial wasteland, forgotten relics of the wartime effort. But my senses tell me different—there’s life inside.

“Two guards at the main entrance,” Valtu observes, his eyes narrowing. “Another on the roof. All vampires.”

“Ivanov’s men,” Ezra confirms. “We’ve seen them at the Crimson Clover.”

I scan the building, my enhanced senses detecting movement, heartbeats, the faint scent of blood. Lena’s blood.The rage I’ve been containing threatens to explode, but I force it down, channeling it into cold purpose.

“We need a plan,” Abe says. “Draw them away from the entrance, then?—”

“I’ll take care of the guards,” Adonis interrupts, his massive form unfolding from the driver’s seat. “Wait for my signal.”

Before anyone can object, he’s moving, crossing the street with deceptive casualness. Valtu sighs, exchanging a look with Abe.

“Always the direct approach with that one,” he mutters.

We watch as Adonis approaches the fence, hands in pockets, appearing for all the world like a lost traveler seeking directions. The guards tense, hands moving to weapons concealed beneath their coats. One calls out a warning.

What happens next occurs almost too quickly for even my enhanced vision to track. Adonis vaults the fence in a single bound, landing between the two guards. His hands move in a blur. There’s a sickening crack, a spray of dark blood, and both guards crumple to the ground.

Adonis gestures toward us—the signal.

“Go,” Abe says, and we’re moving, crossing the street in a tight formation, approaching the warehouse from different angles.

I scale the fence easily, vampire strength making the climb effortless. The guard on the roof hasn’t noticed his colleagues’ fate, attention focused outward rather than down. Valtu disappears around the side of the building, seeking another entrance, while Ezra follows Adonis through the front.

---