“Yes. Well. My ancestors have meddled in Lucian’s life once before. We gained nothing from it.Nothing.And I won’t risk all that I’ve built without a gain in return. A smart man never does something for nothing.” He arches an eyebrow at me slowly, as if I have a counteroffer to lay on the table.
I have nothing. Fucking nothing.
“We need you,” I whisper slowly. “If you won't do it for the academy, do it for your son. Do it for the city that will soon enough be in Morningstar’s path if you do nothing,” I square my shoulders, but the vampire simply shakes his head.
“Do you think I haven’t already done enough for the academy, as well as my son, Miss Castillo?” He turns on his heels, his long black coat wafting around him. “And as for New York City, it’s exactly as its name portrays.New. It’s the elder, wiser empires that last. And we’ll be here long after Lucian’s little war has ended.”
He’s gone with a swish of his coat. And his vampires trail along right after him. Even Heaven scurries behind them. Sasha looks after the woman and chases her down the dark stairwell, their steps not making a single sound in the night.
Unlike my hammering heart.
“Fuck!” My scream matches the roars of hellions below.
“We’re fucked,” Phoenix says under his breath.
Syko nods.
Malek hums a sound of agreement.
And Saint… Well, Saint just continues to be Saint, I guess.
“Phoenix, I love you!” His tone is an urgent sound that makes everyone stop, taking their stress right along with them as we turn to look at the wide-eyed vampire. “I should have told you that years ago. I should have—I should have let you in. We should have let each other in,” he professes.
…Did I fall from this demonic war right into a Jonas Brothers love song?
Phoenix glances nervously at me, as if I might save him from the emotional overload that’s happening right now. His big hand lifts toward his friend. “I love you too,” the incubus says slowly, “but did you happen to see your dad turn his back on us just now? Did you… notice that he took his army with him?”
Saint’s smirk curls at one side as he looks at the incubus he clearly loves. He really didn’t have to say it. I’ve known it since the moment I met them.
“I’m used to my father turning his back on us. I’m not used to telling people I care about them.” The vampire’s charming smile stays in place as his attention drifts.
And he sets his sights on me.
Oh no. I see a trend here.
He’s chosen his next victim. He’s going to make a loud and distracting declaration of love and devotion, and we will never get back to the real issues at hand here.
“Saint, don’t,” I say so low it barely comes out. It only makes his amusement grow. He starts to prowl toward me. His steps are a flawless glide of movement, like not even the ground exists when he’s present.
“Izara Castillo…” The way he enunciates my name is more eerie than romantic.
Wedo nothave time for a Saint performance right now.
“Saint,” I warn, my tone growling and hinting and saying please, please get back to the fucking task at hand.
A rumbling laugh hums through the air, and I can just feel Syko watching us with a big smile on his face.
The nephilim asshole.
Saint’s corded arms and his bare chest skim against me as he cages me in against the rooftop balcony. His entire body is made for sex and distractions, and the war down below doesn’t care about either right now.
“When I first saw you”—his eyes are big with reminiscence—“I thought you were the most beautiful fucking feck I’d ever—”
“Saint, I love you. I do. We all do. Even Malek,” I say in a rush, and despite trying to get this over with, my hands settle on his smooth chest, just near the sharp lines of the cross tattoo along his neck.
“Even Malek?” His dark eyebrows lift high, like Malek’s love is somehow worth more than mine.
“Even Malek?” Malek echoes, one dark eyebrow arched.
