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To force him to return.
I stomp down on the urge and turn away from the balcony. I don’t care what Rylan says about seraphim. I don’t care that I can no longer deny that I’m one of them. I don’t care about their history of bonding with and abusing vampires. Doing that intentionally would make me no worse than my monster of a father, and that is something I’ll never do.
Death is preferable.
I can feel Wolf downstairs, likely painting again. The man holds multitudes and while I can appreciate the beauty behind his art, it’s highly disturbing. Wolf is chaos personified, and that truth is even more apparent when he paints. He might kiss me or try to cut my throat on our next meeting. I never know. He scares me, but a small, secret part of me likes it. I feel particularly alive when I’m dancing on the blade edge with Wolf.
I don’t want that right now. I’m too tired, too frustrated. Wolf, predator that he is, will pick up on it immediately, and he won’t be able to resist testing me. Testing the bond. It exhausts me just thinking about going a round with him right now.
We might have spent the last month together, but I should know better than to lean on these vampires. Even Malachi, for all his declarations of intent, hasn’t known me nearly long enough to actually mean anything he says. More, considering the possibility of a future together is a far cry from agreeing to a bond that only death will sever.
I am surrounded by men, but I’m just as alone as I was in my father’s compound. Separate. Other. Alternatively a threat and prey, depending on who’s around. The only thing I ever wanted was freedom, and it’s the one thing I’ll never have.
Gods, I’m a little ray of sunshine tonight.
I move through the upper floors of the house that is our most recent lodgings. Despite Malachi’s intentions of losing ourselves in the city, the plan fell through almost immediately. It took my father’s people less than twelve hours to find us the first time. Since then, we’ve had to get increasingly creative, avoiding any properties directly linked to Wolf or Rylan and moving regularly. It still isn’t enough to grant us true peace, but at least we’re staying ahead of my father’s hounds.
Barely.
The air shifts behind me, but I don’t need to look to know who it is. Malachi. When we first met, he had a habit of surprising me by appearing unexpectedly without a sound. Now that we’re bonded, he’ll never be able to sneak up on me again. None of them will. That knowledge should reassure me, should offer some kind of layer of safety, but it’s simply a reminder of how much has changed in such a short time.
“Do you think he knew?”
Malachi doesn’t ask who I’m referencing. “I doubt it. Even if she was like you and tasted different than humans do, there are a lot of monsters in our world. Knowing your father, he wouldn’t have risked bedding her if he suspected she had even a hint of seraph blood.”
She. My mother. The source of my seraph powers that awoke a month ago in a bed filled to the brim with sex and blood, the chain that now binds me to these three Bloodline vampires.
Not every vampire in our world is graced with magic. Those turned might get the near-immortal lifespans, but that’s the best of it. Even those naturally born barely have a leg up over the turned vampires.
No, the true power lies with the seven Bloodline families, each with a specialization they pass from parents to children. There are other perks, including pleasurable bites, but the real focus is the magic. My father can get anyone to do anything he wants as long as they’re in the same room and he’s able to speak. He can also use his glamour to shift his appearance.
And now I have three Bloodline vampires linked to me. Malachi with his fire. Wolf with his blood magic. Rylan with his shapeshifting. Practically an army of three, all vested in keeping me alive because if I die, there’s a decent chance I’ll drag them all to hell with me. Aside from my father, little can touch me now. If I was a different person, maybe I’d be elated.
I never wanted any of it.
Malachi closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me, tugging me back against his large body. If not for the way he sometimes looks at me, I might allow myself to sink into these little intimate moments. To believe that the future holds even a sliver of happiness for me.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Malachi rests his chin on the top of my head. “You and Rylan have been sniping at each other again, haven’t you?”
“I didn’t want this,” I whisper. I can feel Rylan winging his way farther and farther from the house—from me. Eventually, he’ll reach the limits of our bond just like he has countless times in the last month, and it will snap at him until he turns back. “Why can’t he understand I hate this even more than you all do?”
“He’s got a long and complicated history with the seraphim. When your memory is as long as Rylan’s, it’s difficult to get past old beliefs. Old fears.” Malachi delves his hands beneath my shirt to bracket my waist. I try to resent that the feel of his hands on my skin instantly unwinds some of my tension. I try…and I fail. I want to blame this on the bond, too, but my attraction to Malachi has been there from the moment we met, and only seems to grow stronger with time.
With a sigh, I lean back more firmly against him, letting him coast his hands up my sides. “I didn’t want this.”
“I know.” He shifts to press a kiss to my temple, my cheekbone, my jaw. “Mina.”
“Yes.” An answer and permission, all rolled into one. Rylan may be staying as far from me as he can manage. Wolf is as changeable as the wind, wild for me and avoiding me by turns. Only Malachi is consistent in this.
I wish I could believe that it’s simply because he wants me.
If I were anyone else, maybe I could. But I’m not. I’m the daughter of Cornelius Lancaster, the last Bloodline vampire of his line. Up until a month ago, I was a freak, a powerless dhampir. Half human, half vampire, somehow missing the power that should come along with that mixing of vampire with human. Useless except as a pawn in my father’s schemes, as a womb to fill with another Bloodline.
I have power now, but that doesn’t make me safe.
If my father discovers that I have not one, but three Bloodline vampires linked to me, he’ll use me as a tool to bring them to their knees. I might not want to take their freedom and willpower, but he’ll only be too happy to in order to boost his own power. Killing him might be possible, but it won’t solve the problem, not when I have other half-siblings only too happy to step into his shoes.
We have one chance to avoid being hunted until the end of time.
I have to become my father’s heir.
The only way to do that is to get pregnant before any of my half-siblings do. Not exactly an easy feat when some of them have been trying since before I was born. Not to mention I don’t even know how vampire and seraphim and human mix together. Rylan claims it’s possible—even probable—that I can conceive and quickly. I’m not so sure.
“Mina.” Malachi’s lips brush my throat. “It will work out.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No more than you know that it won’t work out.” He kisses my neck. “Let me make you feel good for a little bit.”
Let him make me feel good. Let him have another go at getting me pregnant.
I exhale slowly. At this rate, my racing thoughts aren’t going to slow down without extreme measures. “Bite me.”