Page 36 of Soulmarked

Kai exhaled sharply, then shook his head with a small, rueful smile that carried decades of friendship and shared nightmares. “You're the most stubborn bastard I know, you know that?”

“Wouldn't be me otherwise.” I managed a grin, but we both knew it was thin.

“Just...” Kai's voice pulled me back to the present. “Promise me you'll be careful.”

I nodded, grateful not for the first time that fate had given me a friend who understood this world, even if he tried to stay clear of it. “Thanks, Kai.”

“Don't thank me yet.” He pulled out his wallet, dropping bills on the table. “Just remember what happened to the last people who got too close to Phoenix's secrets. Whatever they're planning? Whatever they're trying to unlock? It's bigger than both of us.”

As he stood to leave, I caught his arm. “Kai? What aren't you telling me?”

He hesitated, then leaned down close to my ear. “Watch the churches at midnight. All of them. Something's coming, Cade. Something big. And Phoenix? They're just the beginning.”

Then he was gone, leaving me with cooling coffee and too many questions. Deep down, I knew he was right about one thing, I was already in too deep. But maybe that's exactly where I needed to be to find the truth.

The diner's ancient clock ticked steadily toward noon, each second bringing us closer to whatever Phoenix had planned. And somewhere in the city, in one of those five points of power, answers waited.

I just had to survive long enough to find them.

9

BLOOD, BLADES, AND BAD IDEAS

Red lights pulsed overhead, painting everything in shades of blood and shadow. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, and I couldn't tell how many of them still had pulses. Typical Friday night. I rolled my shoulders, already itching for a fight or at least a stiff drink.

“Jaysus, I hate places like this,” I muttered, scanning the crowd. Too loud, too crowded, too many things wearing human skin like borrowed suits.

But Juno had agreed to meet, and she wasn't the type to make house calls. Not anymore. Not since she'd crossed that line between hunter and hunted. I'd known her back when she was one of Hallow's best, a trans woman who'd fought twice as hard to prove herself in our world of hunters, earning respect with every kill until no one dared question her place among us. Then a mission went sideways, and she'd been turned. Instead of following Hallow's protocol for turned hunters—a quick death by their own hand—she'd chosen to survive. To adapt. Now she walked the line between worlds, keeping her deadly skills and hunter's instincts even as she navigated vampire politics. Some called her a traitor. I just called her complicated.

I kept to the edges of the crowd, where the shadows were deeper and the music couldn't quite drown out my instincts. Silver blade at my hip, stakes strapped to my boots, holy water in my pocket—standard kit for walking into vampire territory. Though with Juno, there was always a chance she'd just try to kill me the old-fashioned way.

I spotted her at the bar, all deadly grace in designer black. She was swirling something dark in her glass that definitely wasn't wine, her sword strapped to her back because subtlety had never been her strong suit. Even turned, she carried herself like a hunter: back straight, eyes always moving, aware of every potential threat. Old habits die hard, I supposed. Even when you do.

“Thought you'd be too busy playing attack dog for Hallow to bother with me,” she drawled as I approached, not bothering to look up from her drink.

“Yeah, well, I missed your charming personality,” I said, settling against the bar. “Nice place. Got any actual alcohol or just that O-negative cocktail you're nursing?”

The bartender started to approach, then caught something in Juno's expression and found somewhere else to be. Smart lad.

“You don't come to my territory without a reason, Sean.” She finally looked at me properly, and I caught the faint red gleam in her eyes. “So what's got the great hunter crawling to the vampire underground for help?”

I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the upscale bar with its dark wood and subtle gothic accents. “Just added this place to your collection, have you?”

Juno's lips curved into a smile that was all fang. “Not just this place, darling. I own several establishments across New York.” She raised her glass in a mock toast. “Including Purgatory. Though that's more of a... special investment.”

“Purgatory,” I said flatly. “Where a vampire nearly tore out a federal agent's throat a couple of nights ago. Some investment.”

Her smile remained, but her eyes hardened. “I was wondering when you'd bring that up. Don't look so surprised. News travels fast in the night. That wasn't my court, Sean.”

“Yet it happened in your club.”

“Under my roof, not by my hand or order.” She leaned forward, voice dropping. “The Manhattan territory has standards. We don't feed on unwilling victims, we don't kill randomly, and we handle our own problems.”

“Didn't know courts respected territorial boundaries these days.”

“They don't.” She took a long sip from her glass, the liquid leaving a faint crimson stain on her lips. “But they respect fear. And pain. I've made examples of those who cross me.”

“Charming.”

---