Page 37 of Feathers From the Sky

“I’ve ported into the surveillance system. He gave her the same cell Remy was in when he was detoxing.”

I swear under my breath. Everything Björn does is a cold calculation, meant to get some sort of rise or send some signal. He clearly doesn’t care for me to find the answers I seek, and he views Gwyn’s information as useless. Just as he’d viewed my attempts to rehabilitate Remy.

I’m distracted, but I see the minuscule flex of Gwyn’s muscles, the slight bounce on the balls of her feet, just as the elevator door is about to shut. I grab her by her hair and bend her backwards. She grips the base of her ponytail as she cries out, looking up at me with tears in her eyes.

“You think I’m going to let you leave?” I ask. “You think there’s anywhere you can go where I won’t find you?”

I release her hair and her knees crash to the ground. She’s at my feet and looking down at her shaking hands, and the blood drunk part of me wishes we were in a very different scenario. I’d keep that ponytail wrapped around my hand, and the tears in her eyes could stay, but for a different reason. The thought of her choking on my cock is enough to make me have to adjust the way I’m standing. Sometimes I wonder which curse is worse—my oath to my father or the fact I am so goddamn attracted to her.

We’re a few floors beneath the parking garage, heading into the compound beneath Björn’s skyscraper. Built to serve one purpose, his building is its own small city. Protecting what lies far below the Chicago soil, we are caretakers of our own immortality. As one of the few living vampires sired by the old ones, Björn’s blood oath to protect Agnarr during his Slumber is the reason for this impenetrable fortress.

“Stand up,” I bark as the elevator nears our destination. She obeys without me lacing my tone with influence.

She’s learning.

“I never should have agreed to that fucking photoshoot,” she mutters, and I don’t hide my grin. “Fuck, and then I went hiking with you. I was a true crime podcast episode waiting to happen.”

A single tear tracks down her cheek, and I follow the motion with a predator’s gaze. I’m tempted to lick it, her blood in my system creating a marionette ruled by desire for her, when she angrily brushes it away.

She takes a deep breath, and I put my hand around the back of her neck as the elevator comes to a stop. When it opens and every eye in the mezzanine flicks over to us, the hungry moans of those scenting her blood echo off the marble floor. Margot steps out of the elevator around us, her clacking heels loud enough to serve as an invitation for the coven to fall into upheaval. It’s pure chaos as people shove each other to move toward us, shouts of confusion and approval mixing.

“Stop!” I command, and considering over half the vampires present have already blood sworn to me in addition to Björn and Emile, it’s enough to stem the flow of bodies moving toward us. They all freeze, some looking at me in admiration, others in fear, and though I’ve been gone the past few months, it’s clear I still hold sway. “The hunter is mine, and if anyone risks her life before I am finished with her, I promise you’ll wish for a swift decapitation once I’m through with you. Understood?”

Gwyn is stiff against the grip of my hand. I trace my thumb down the side of her neck, and she shivers. The vampires nod and murmur to one another, but the ones who stand on the upper level exchange weighted glances. Wrongfully assuming I cannot see them, I decide I need to make my point more clear.

“Which fledgeling showed the pictures, Margot?”

“Hayden?” she calls, stepping forward toward the few dozen vampires who stand before us. They’re all new, unable to control themselves.

“Uh, I’m Aiden,” a man says. I frown because he’s so young—potentially not even of legal drinking age. I wonder if his change was voluntary, and make a note in my mind to find out who his sire is.

“You’ve already potentially endangered the hunter. I need her to find out what happened to my brother, and you almost ruined that for me,” I explain. “Come here.”

He obeys, ginger hair looking frazzled as he tugs sweaty fingers through it. I remember him from before I left, and he ought to have known not to cross me. I’m sure he’s been told even more about me in my absence. I’m an anomaly, and I see his fear clearly on his face. “S-sorry, I shouldn’t have told—”

“You’ll give me your blood vow. Now.” I say, offering out my wrist to him.

“Oh, I—I’m already vowed to my sire.”

“This isn’t a debate. Drink,” I say. Gwyn flinches as the boy approaches, even though he keeps a wide berth. His blue eyes flicker between her and my outstretched arm, and I know he is tempted.

I stare down the fledgeling, and I smirk when I see his decision firmly take root. His bite is gentle on my wrist, and I only give him a few drops before I pull my hand away.

“Are you right-handed or left-handed, Brayden?”

“Right,” he answers, frowning. “It’s Ai—”

“Rip your right arm off,” I command, and his new vow makes him quick to obey. He’s using his vampire strength, and the splitting sounds of popping tendons and cracking bones in his shoulder are revolting. Save for Gwyn’s heaving gasps as she jolts away from the gore, the room is silent save for the blood dripping from the stump of his arm. When he slumps to the ground, she turns in my grasp, refusing to look.

I step over him, addressing the rest of the coven.

“I know I’ve been gone for a time, but I’m here now. If you fuck with what belongs to me, I won’t be as kind as I was to Hayden here.” The words barely leave my lips when I feel a twist in my gut from my own oath.

“The conquering hero returns. Always one for big entrances, aren’t you?”

I turn, looking up at the top of the stairs where he stands, tall and stately. His blond hair is cut short, and he’s dressed only in a robe.

“Hello, Father.”

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