“I’ll take that bet!” Zephyr called over me. The tense air melted away, and for once, I was thankful for Barrett’s antics. If it meant whatever happened between Damien and Zephyr was put on pause until it could be resolved, I would suffer it. We didn’t need any further division after suffering Cole’s betrayal.
Damien groaned, his eyes settling on me. “Please don’t try to headbutt a darkling on your first night out, Cas.”
I crossed my arms, head tilted. “I don’t know which is worse; that Barrett and Zephyr are betting over my courage to headbutt a darkling, or that you think I’m dumb enough to try.”
Damien cracked that cocky grin I loved so much, the crystalline amber bursting from the ashen gray of his eyes. The way they settled on me sent my heart leaping against my ribs. “I mean, I don’t want you to, but I can’t say I’m not a little curious to watch you take one down that way. Maybe when you’ve had more training.”
I cocked my head, smirking up at him. “You keep tempting me and I might try it, Damien.”
“Taking bets!” Barrett called out as the four of them turned, heading for the door.
The metal door swung closed behind them, their conversations and laughter fading from my ears. Damien’s arms came around my waist and pulled me back to him. I could feel the unease he tried to mask rise to the surface. “Please be careful tonight,mea luna.”
I melted, turning to meet his gaze, seeing the worry filling his eyes. “I will,mea sol. I promise.”
The city had settled, the alleys filled with a deathly quiet air as I walked alongside Damien. The others spoke in hushed tones, surveying the darkness at every corner. Vincent took a brief glance at his phone and tapped away.
I could just barely make out Zephyr as he whispered to him. “Anna doing ok?”
“Yeah, she’s pulling another late night at Johnson’s clinic. She needs to cut back on the shifts,” Vincent muttered.
I pulled my attention from them, not wanting to eavesdrop on their conversation. Barrett and Thalia walked separately from Vincent and Zephyr, whispering amongst themselves. For once, it sounded as if it might be a pleasant conversation. There had been a lot of back and forth with them, some nights pleasant, but some nights they were at each other’s throats as they had the first time I’d met her.
I’d managed to smother my nerves up to this point, but now that I was here with them, feeling the weight of my daggers, knowing what I would use them for, it was impossible to ignore the adrenaline pumping through my veins, my pulse pounding in my ears. I couldn’t tell if I was more terrified or excited to finally be on my first hunt. How many darklings would we find? The darklings’ numbers had steadily increased in recent weeks—warriors encountering groups larger than they had in centuries. Would tonight be like my last encounter, when Marcus had sent me out to be hunted? There’d been so many—too many to count.
Damien took my hand and squeezed it gently. “Breathe,mea luna. I can feel your anxiety from here.”
My gaze snapped to him. “What? How?” I said in a hushed voice.
“You probably can’t feel it like I can since you’re human, but the bond between mates is powerful. In close proximity, we can feel if something is... off,” he explained, but his eyes remained vigilant, scanning for any sign of darklings that might be lurking in the shadows. “It grew stronger for me when I first tasted your blood.”
I’d been unnaturally drawn to him from the moment we met. Whether it was the bond, or my past selves, or a little of both, I didn’t know. “I’ve felt something, but it’s very faint. Just this… pull.”
A smile lit his face. “I wish you were one of our kind, wish you could feel what I feel. It’s indescri—”
“Damien,” Zephyr whispered, his body dissolving into black dust as he shifted into a large panther. He lowered his muzzle to the ground. His onyx fur caught the faint glow of distant lights, his massive paws pressing into the concrete beneath him as he crouched. It was still a shock to see him shift, and I didn’t know if I would ever get used to it.
“They’re nearby. They passed through here recently,” Zephyr said, looking away to where the trail led. My breath hitched, adrenaline spiking in my blood.
“Ready your daggers, Cas.” Damien squeezed my hand once before releasing it, and pulled his own dagger free from its sheath.
The others followed suit—Barrett and Thalia with their own daggers, and Vincent slid his weapon into place over his knuckles, gripping the handles in his palms. Vincent’s weapons were so unlike the others; he called them trench knives. The brass knuckles extended out into a blade from his palm, the sharp point etched with runes and magic necessary to finish the darklings off for good. If their vital points weren’t pierced, or their bodies burned, they could reawaken.
This is it.This is what I’ve trained for. The hilts of my daggers were cold against my palms, despite my fingerless leather gloves. I pulled them free from their sheaths, metal hissing against leather, and we waited, listening to the nothingness in the air. Zephyr’s low growl startled me.
Then, I felt it.
The temperature plummeted, that familiar chill that came with the presence of the darklings descending on us, as if they leeched the very life from the air around them. I shuddered and looked back over my shoulder to where we’d come from. The streetlamps in the distance flickered before dousing, plunging the area into darkness, and for a moment, I was blinded to my surroundings.
This was their territory.
Silence. The silence was so heavy, like water pressing in on me, suffocating me. Air grew thicker in my lungs as I tried to breathe through the fear. I waited, listening as short breaths escaped Barrett, Vincent, and Thalia’s lips, filling my ears with our collective anxiety. In this moment of silent anticipation, I hated the vulnerability of my mortal form. I was at a disadvantage in the dark. Humans weren’t built like the immortals; we didn’t have the perfected vision, the sense of smell, or the heightened hearing. Immortals were hunters, built to fight under the veil of night.
I was prey.
No, not anymore. I was no longer the defenseless human I was three months ago. I’d undergone the same training every warrior of The Order did.
Click—click—click—click—click. The horrible sound rippled from the darkness, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I thought back to my vision of Elena, remembered how the darklings stalked me before we fought, the feeling of their claws and teeth tearing me apart before I died.
