Idris

“I look like a toddler bundled up going out for her first snowfall.”

Celia’s voice was muffled, but I heard her loud and clear. She glared at me through the thin strip we left showing of her face. She did, in fact, look like a mummy. I didn’t want to laugh at her, but it was a little hard to keep a straight face. Even though I’d laid down the boundaries earlier today, I still found her alluring and attractive. And even more so, I respected her. I remembered watching her bend over the little boy’s bed, her face so kind and soft. Charlie—I now knew his name—had looked up at her adoringly.

She was risking herself, and I was risking her to do this, but I couldn’t tell her no. Because I’d want her to have one good memory of me after I took her father’s head off. I didn’t know why I cared, but I did.

I brushed her padded shoulders. “Your hair is recognizable and so is your…figure,” I said. “We’ll move fast, but I can’t have you looking like Celia with the Quellen out.”

“Oh, right, and you just blend right in.”

She was so miffed I had to cough to cover my smile. “You’d be surprised how well I can go unnoticed.”

“Whatever,” she said. “I shouldn’t complain because you could have said no, so let’s do this your way.”

She could move, but not fast, which didn’t matter a whole lot since I was with her. Anywhere we needed to go in a hurry, I’d carry her. Even so, as we walked to the stairs that would take us to the Mission streets, my nerves were on edge. I didn’t know what awaited us out there. If Athan knew I was doing this…I shook my head. Forget Athan. Taking Celia to see Charlie was going to be the least of my crimes when this was over.

I opened up the portal, listening to Celia’s soft gasp as the wall blurred enough to see the other side. I waved her through, and she put her hand through first, palm out, eyes wide between the wrapped scarf we’d used to cover her face. She looked like a homeless woman trying to stay warm.

We stepped onto a stoop in an alley, our entry concealed by darkness. Celia glanced back at the portal as it closed. “Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Let’s go.” I grabbed her arm and we hurried down the street. I’d chosen the portal closest to her apartment that I could find, so we were topside as little as possible.

Celia kept quiet, hurrying along next to me. I listened over the swish of her clothes for the hissing of Quellen, for anything, really, but all I heard was the typical sounds of Mission City at night. Some cars street-racing along the east side. Arguing carrying through thin walls of aging apartment buildings. A few people in rags huddled next to a barrel fire, warming their hands. They ignored us as we walked by.

Mission had once been a bustling industry town. The Gregorie clan had been considered elite to settle here. Now…not so much. Today we just tried to keep our family close, stick to our principles, and exist in harmony with humans. The good thing about Mission now was that no one asked questions; everyone minded their own business. And there were plenty of humans who were willing to give their blood for cash.

We reached her apartment building in under five minutes. One thing about returning here was that this would be the last place the Quellen would expect us. I still wasn’t taking chances, though. We went up the back staircase, the one Celia had said was rarely used because a lot of squatters had made it their home. We passed dirty sleeping bags on each platform and a few sleeping bodies. A couple reached out their hands for cash or food, but we had none.

“I’m sorry,” Celia muttered to several of them. “I don’t have anything.”

I kept us moving. Up and up until we reached her floor. The door was closed and locked. I took Celia’s key and turned it. Still worked. The knob clicked and the door opened. I pushed Celia back against the wall while I looked inside.

The place hadn’t been touched since the Quellen wreaked their havoc. The landlord either didn’t know or wasn’t in a hurry to clean it up.

I wanted to make sure the apartment was safe for Celia, but I also couldn’t leave her out in the hallway, so I brought her in and positioned her at the door. I pulled the scarf down past her nose and mouth to check if she was okay. Her dispassionate gaze took in her wrecked apartment, and I let her. They’d emptied food onto the floor, ripped open the cushions of her couch, and shredded a throw blanket. As far as I knew, she owned nothing they wanted, so they either did it just to punish her for escaping them, or to send a message when she returned that she wasn’t welcome. Maybe both.

“I’m sorry this happened,” I said to her.

Her eyes came to me and she shrugged. “I’m not…all this is just stuff. Mostly stuff I bought secondhand at thrift stores. What upsets me more is that they were here to kill me, and when they didn’t, they hated me so much that they destroyed my place.” She squeezed my hand, then dropped it.

I was reminded again of how different her place was than Roxy’s. Maybe things didn’t mean as much to her as other humans. I pressed. “But this is your place, your possessions.”

“This place never felt like home. I didn’t own a lot. Mostly just stuff I needed, and that was purchased at thrift stores. I don’t have family heirlooms because I didn’t have a family. So I’m not upset. Maybe it’ll hit me later and I will be. But right now I’m okay. As long as we get the ocelot.”

I dropped the subject then. “Bedroom?”

“Yeah,” she said.

We walked down the hallway to her bedroom. There was no evidence of what happened here. No Quellen body, head, knife or even bloodstain. They’d taken care of it like they always did. No trace. Fucking professionals. I’d respect it if I didn’t hate all that they stood for.

She broke away from me and ran to her closet, standing up on her tiptoes and digging around the top shelf. With a triumphant cry, she held up a little tan and yellow stuffed creature. I thought it was rather ugly.

“It’s weird-looking, I know,” she explained. “But the game is kind of blocky and…” She sighed. “You don’t care, do you?”

“I’d be happy to hear you explain everything you want to explain, but when we’re safe. Not here where we’re exposed.”

She looked embarrassed. “Oh, right. That was stupid.”

“Give me the animal.” I held out my hand, and she placed it on my palm. The fur was soft, and I stuck it in a pocket inside my coat. “There, now it won’t get lost. Ready?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushed, and then she turned to me and gave me an all-out grin.

That grin nearly flattened me. I would do this a million times over. I’d carry five thousand stuffed animals in my coat and deliver them to every sick child in the world if she gave me a grin like that.

And that urge was confusing for me. I’d never felt that way, not about anyone other than Athan—and in turn, Tendra. And with Celia it was magnified. Over a smile. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but something in my gut told me that everything just got a lot more complicated.

I took her hand, maybe a little more roughly than I meant to, and pulled her toward the window. “What—”

“We’re taking a different way back,” I said. I threw up the window, gathered her in my arms, and said, “Don’t scream.”

She clapped her hands over her mouth just as I leaped out the window to the alley below. I landed solidly on two feet, and when I placed Celia on the ground, she wobbled, staring at me. “That was…we just…”

“Yes,” I said, growing impatient. The longer we were out here, the more anxious I got. “Those stairs were a waste of time.”

She stared at me in wonder. “So what happens when you’re turned into a vampire? You get superhuman strength?”

“Our muscles don’t weaken as fast, and our bones are stronger,” I explained. “As long as we feed. Same with our strength and speed. It’s all because of the human blood we drink. It interacts with our body chemistry differently than it does in humans.”

“Oh,” was all she said in response.

I didn’t wait for more conversation. I gripped her hand and hauled her ass in the direction we needed to go. It took her a minute to realize I was walking without direction. “Wait, do you know—”

“I know.”

She tugged on her arm but I didn’t let it go. “How do you know?”

“I’d been watching you, remember?” I glanced down at her. “I saw you with him. A couple of times.”

She fell silent at that, and I wondered if she was angry about the reminder of being watched or if she was thinking of something else. We continued on our way. The route was deserted, as most people in Mission weren’t out at this time of night, and if they were, they were up to no good and certainly weren’t investigating a tall man and bundled woman speed-walking through the streets. So we didn’t see a single soul.

We were close to Charlie’s place, maybe a block away, when I caught a familiar scent a half second before a Quellen dropped down in front of us.

Celia made a muffled scream at my side. I immediately shoved her behind me and took a few steps back, so the wall of a nearby building was behind us. I didn’t want anyone getting access to her unless they went through me. I smiled. I’d been in a killing mood lately and hadn’t been able to fucking kill anything. This was where my confidence soared.

I said to her over my shoulder, “Just stay out of the way.” Her fingers dug into my hips, then she let me go, just as three more Quellen joined the first.

I reached into my jacket and pulled out a knife for each hand. I rotated my wrists, and the blades gleamed in the moonlight.

“Come and get me, fuckers,” I said.

With a hiss, they converged on me at once. I took out the first one easily, slicing his head clean off his body just like I’d done back at Celia’s. The other three were a little bit harder. Now that I knew they possessed Sevren blades—enhanced metal that caused wounds vampires couldn’t heal from—I couldn’t let them cut me. They’d nearly killed Athan with one of those. Athan was a damn good fighter, but I was better. I’d always been better, and that was why our soldiers were so loyal to me.

I twisted my body, dipping and whirling as the Quellen came at me from all angles with their blades. They meant to kill me, that much I was sure of. They didn’t intend to incapacitate me and run off with Celia. No, they wanted to take my head off with one swipe of their deadly knives.

I dispatched two more in quick succession, slicing their throats with swift swipes of my knives. The fourth was larger—maybe the leader. He hissed at me, but his eerie eyes were focused on what was behind me. Celia.

I beckoned to him with fingers bloody from his fallen comrades. “You aren’t getting her unless you go through me, so give me your best shot.”

He leaped into the air. I’d forgotten how fast and high these fuckers could jump. As I was fighting, I’d pushed forward, so now I turned around to realize Celia was still pressed against the building about ten yards away.

The Quellen intended to jump over me to get to her. That motherfucker. With a roar, I sprang straight up, catching the Quellen around his waist midair. Celia screamed just as the Quellen shrieked. I swept my arm up with a grunt and slammed my knife right into the fucker’s heart.

We crashed to the ground, me on my back, the Quellen bleeding all over me. The fall knocked the breath from my lungs and I gasped, my vision momentarily whiting out. When I focused back on the Quellen, he was scrambling to his feet, gaze on Celia. I rolled over and reached for his legs, but my hand came up empty.

No.

The Quellen had dropped the blade in midair, and it lay on the ground between Celia and the advancing Quellen. “The knife!” I yelled as I came to my feet and took after the Quellen. Celia didn’t hesitate. She ran to it, picked it up a second before the Quellen reached it, and plunged the tip into the Quellen’s eye.

The sound that came out of the Quellen’s mouth sounded like a thousand children screaming. Celia shrank back, covering her ears, and I reached the Quellen in time to slit its throat, silencing the god-awful noise. Its body crumpled at my feet.

My ears rang from the sound, and I staggered a step before finding my balance. One look at Celia and I could tell she was having another one of those panic attacks. Her eyes were huge, mouth gasping for breath, face pale.

I grabbed her and tugged her to me, carrying her to a nearby metal door. I kicked it open and huddled in the corner of a deserted stairwell with Celia in my lap. Her body shook, and I tugged the layers off her. Her hands fumbled trying to help me, but I batted them away.

Could these panic attacks kill her? When I placed my hand on her chest, her heartbeat didn’t sound normal. It was like a galloping horse rather than a steady drumbeat. “Celia.” I gripped her head, forcing her to look at me. “Breathe with me.”

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, and her eyes focused on my mouth. Her nostrils flared and her shoulders hitched, but slowly she began to breathe easier. I cupped her neck and rubbed my thumb along the artery where I could feel her pulse. “That’s it. You’re okay. You’re fine. I’m right here.”

“H-h-his eye,” she stuttered out. “I-I-I st-stabbed—”

“I know. I was there.”

“Th-the s-s-sound!” she yelled in my face.

“I know.”

Her face fell and she shoved her head into my neck. I held her there, cradled against my body, my knees drawn up in an effort to cage her in, make her feel protected from all sides. I had no idea what humans did for panic attacks. Did some go through this alone? That sounded cruel.

Her shoulders shook, and I rubbed her back just as I felt my shirt grow wet from her falling tears. She sniffed, her shoulders hitched, and then she fell still.

When her heartbeat more closely matched mine, she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry for losing it.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I was just…the knife in his eye. That sound. You slitting his throat.” She shuddered. “My brain didn’t know how to process all that and it shut down.”

“Tell me more about these panic attacks,” I said.

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you do when you’re alone and you get them?”

She shifted in my lap and ran her finger over the wet patch on my shirt. “Well, mostly I just…wait it out.”

“Wait it out?”

“Yeah, in the moment it’s awful, and every time I think I’m going to die. But I…don’t. I don’t die. It’s just the few minutes where my brain feels like it’s disintegrating in my head and my heart is going to burst—that’s when I feel like I’m going to die.”

I imagined her at home, having one of these attacks and no one there to hold her, to comfort her. “Is that…normal?”

“To have panic attacks?”

“Well, yes, but I meant is it normal to go through it alone?”

Her smile was sad. “Well, normally I want to be alone. It’s embarrassing. I don’t like people seeing me like this.”

“And me?”

Her hand cupped my cheek. “I know it sounds strange, but now the thought of going through one without you sounds like a nightmare.”

I swallowed, guilt clawing up my throat, threatening to choke me. “I’m glad I have been able to be there for you.”

“Me, too. And as far as whether panic attacks are normal…eh. Some humans get them, some don’t. Mine are more extreme but fortunately in my life, they are rare.” Her lips turned down. “Well, they used to be rare. I guess in this new life…not so much.”

“I’m sorry.” I smoothed her damp hair off her forehead.

She closed her eyes and leaned into my touch, not much, but enough that it made me pause. Fuck, she smelled good, and she was so warm on my lap, her perfect ass perched perfectly on my hardening dick. I had to get her off me. We had to keep going before I did some things I was going to regret. “All right, guess it’s time we go.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment I saw it all—attraction, lust—all for me. Then she blinked and it was gone. “Right,” she said softly. “Time to go.”

I tugged her to her feet, and she came willingly. I opened up the door to the stairwell and sniffed. No Quellen. I pulled her to my side and walked out.

Celia

We didn’t head back the way we came. After the Quellen fight, I thought we were abandoning the trip to see Charlie. But Idris was walking in the direction of Charlie’s apartment. We were taking a roundabout way and sticking close to buildings. Maybe there was a portal close by?

“Where are we going?” I asked softly.

Idris’s head angled down to me, a frown on his face, before continuing to scan our surroundings. “To Charlie’s.”

“Still?”

His pace slowed. “Do you not want to?”

“No, I do, I just thought…”

“You wanted to go, so we’re still going.” His tone was final.

I gripped his hand tighter and smiled at the ground. We were still going. Despite the four Quellen he killed, and my panic attack, we were still going to Charlie’s because Idris knew how much I wanted to go. Why did that make my stomach clench with want? I knew the reason—it was because Idris didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to keep me happy. He only had to keep me alive. This? Going to see Charlie? It wasn’t necessary and it was dangerous. Yet Idris was making it happen. And no one had ever done that for me before. No one in my life had ever been there for me, helped me, and Idris doing so meant a lot.

Maybe he sensed my emotions, because he said gruffly, “Don’t make a thing of it. It gave me an excuse to kill some Quellen. Hope we run into more on the way back because I’m still in the mood.”

I ignored his attempt to lessen how much it meant to me that he was doing this. “Sure, Idris.”

He huffed, but didn’t say anything more.

When we reached Charlie’s apartment building, I didn’t have to tell Idris which apartment was his. I also didn’t have to tell him that Charlie’s window was always left open a crack. Idris pulled me onto his back with a rough order to “hold tight,” and then he scrambled up the side of the building, using the cracked and missing bricks as hand- and footholds. I squeezed my eyes shut as we swayed and didn’t look below. I hated heights.

When we reached Charlie’s window, Idris threw up the window the rest of the way, pushed me inside, then climbed in himself. He immediately melted into the darkness of the corner after pressing the ocelot into my hand.

Charlie was in bed, his head turned slightly toward the window, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. I hoped he was having a good dream, a brilliant one, where there was no pain and lots of candy and friendly ocelots.

Using a pen off his desk, I dashed off a quick note on a piece of printer paper. I wanted him to know that the ocelot was from me, that I hadn’t forgotten about him, but I was going away for a while.

I hadn’t realized I was crying until I glanced down at the paper and spotted a teardrop mark making the ink bleed. I sniffed and folded the paper, pressing my lips to it. I placed the note on his nightstand and set the ocelot on top. He’d see it in the morning. I turned to look at him one last time and found his eyes open, staring at me.

I froze and stared back. Maybe he was dreaming and opened his eyes in his sleep. I didn’t want to be caught here in his room in the middle of the night. But then he blinked, and slowly tried to sit up. “Ceely,” he whispered.

Shit. Well, I couldn’t run out now. And I didn’t want to. Getting to talk to him one last time was a gift. I sank down onto the bed and placed my hand on top of his. “Hey, buddy.”

He smiled at me, but his face was lined with pain. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” It was hard enough writing the note, but now I had to say the words? “I have to go away for a bit. But I didn’t want to leave without bringing you the ocelot I promised.” I gestured to it, and his eyes followed my hand. He smiled when he caught sight of the stuffed animal. “I love it. Thank you.” His gaze came right back to me, and his lip wobbled. “But where do you have to go?”

“Away,” I said. “Adult stuff.”

“That’s what my parents say when they think I won’t understand.”

I sighed. “It’s a long story. And when I come back”—okay, white lie—“I’ll tell you all about it. Promise.”

“Promise?”

My heart cracked as I nodded. “Yep.”

Charlie’s gaze drifted over my shoulder, and his little body stilled as he squinted. “Who’s that?”

Oh, damnit. Had he spotted Idris?

I slowly looked over my shoulder to see Idris take a small step forward, into the light. He raised a hand in a small wave, and his face…I’d never seen him with that expression. It was soft, younger, and so humanlike that my breath caught in my throat.

“Is that your boyfriend, Ceely?” Charlie asked, drawing my attention.

“Um…”

“Yeah, kid,” Idris said, and even his voice was lighter. “I’m her boyfriend.”

Charlie seemed to relax at that. “Oh, good. I heard Mom telling Dad that she worried about you being alone. She said you never had family and she wanted that for you—to have a family someday.”

I couldn’t burst into tears in front of this kid, but everything he said tugged at my heart, like he’d sunk pulleys into it and was tugging until every last bit of emotion I had poured out into my veins to leak out my pores.

His mom worried about me. Charlie worried about me. And now I was going to meet my father, a vampire king who wanted to enslave them all? The knowledge of my life, of my parentage, hit me like a sledgehammer. I’d been so focused on meeting my dad. I hadn’t dwelled on the consequences. Maybe I could convince him. If I meant as much to him as the Gregorie clan said I did, maybe I could have an influence. I could help negotiations. I glanced back at Idris, who watched me steadily. Yeah, I could do that.

I looked back at Charlie and wiped away a bit of sleep crust from the corner of his eye. “I’m okay, Charlie. Don’t worry about me. I’m finding my family, okay?”

He smiled. “I’m glad, Ceely. Can I hold my ocelot now?”

I picked up the animal with trembling fingers and tucked it into the crook of his arm. His eyes were drooping, so I bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Stay strong, buddy, okay?”

“Always, Ceely.” He yawned. “You, too. And take care of Ceely, mister.”

Idris didn’t speak for a moment, and then he said softly, “Of course.”

“Goodbye, Charlie,” I said.

“Night, Ceely.” Then he rolled over and closed his eyes.

I didn’t speak again until we had traveled through Mission and were safely through another portal, taking the stairs down to the subway tunnels. “Thank you, Idris,” I said. “I can’t thank you enough for that.”

He didn’t say anything, nothing at all. He squeezed the back of my neck, fingers digging in, and brushed his lips across my temple. When we reached the apartment, he said, “I’ll be right back,” and left me alone inside the locked room.

After stripping off my layers, I lay down, and was asleep in minutes.