He throws some bills on the counter and hurries out, and I watch Tessa’s face as she processes his words.There’s fear there, she’s smart enough to be afraid, but also that stubborn determination I know so well.
She’s not going to run.Even if she should.
The morning crawls by.I make my coffee last longer than usual, ordering a refill I don’t need, watching as the café fills and empties, fills and empties.Watching Tessa move through her routine, laughing with the regulars, pouring coffee, and clearing tables.
Watching the wrongness cling to her like frost.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.A text from Blade:Church.Noon.Get your ass here.
I drain the last of my coffee and stand, dropping a twenty on the table as always.Tessa glances over, and our eyes meet for just a second.In that moment, I let myself really look at her, at the curve of her neck, the pulse point I could find in the dark, and the way her hair falls across her shoulders.
I want to tell her to be careful.To warn her something’s coming for her, something that even I might not be able to stop.But I can’t.Not without admitting how closely I’ve been watching her, how deeply I’ve let myself care.
So, I nod and head for the door.
The clubhouse is buzzingwhen I arrive, bikes lined up out front like a steel army.I park my Harley and head inside, nodding to Rooster and Hollywood as I pass.The scent of leather, oil, and testosterone fills the space, it’s familiar, and comfortable.
Blade is in church already, the moment I step into the room, Blade’s eyes lock onto mine.
“Close the door.”
I do, then take my usual seat at the table.Prophet looks tired, the shadows under his eyes deeper than usual.There’s a tension in his shoulders that tells me he’s been communing with heaven, and whatever they told him, he didn’t like it.
“Talk to me,” Blade says, leaning back in his chair.“What the fuck is going on in my territory?”
Prophet spreads a series of photos across the table.Dead animals.All of them frozen in unnatural positions, their bodies encased in ice that shouldn’t exist in November, not like this.There are other photos too, strange patterns in the snow, tracks that start and stop for no reason, clearings where nothing grows anymore.
“It’s getting worse,” Prophet says quietly.“I’ve been tracking reports for two weeks.Whatever this is, it’s spreading.And it’s centered here, around Crystal Creek.”
Blade blows out a stream of smoke.“Theories?”
“Nothing good.”Prophet’s fingers tap against the photo of the frozen elk.“I’ve been praying over these sites, and something...answers.Something old.Something that should still be sleeping.”
“What does heaven say?”I ask, though I already know the answer won’t be helpful.
Prophet’s laugh is bitter.“They say to handle it.They say Alaska has always been a thin place, where the veil between worlds wears threadbare.It’s our problem now.”
“Helpful as always,” Blade mutters.
I pick up one photo, studying the frost patterns.There’s something familiar about them, something that tugs at old memories.Memories from before the Kings, before Alaska, before I learned to pretend I was anything other than a monster.
“I’ve seen something like this before,” I say slowly.“A long time ago.Before I came to America.”
Both of them turn to look at me, and I set the photo down carefully.
“There are stories.Old vampire stories, from when our kind first walked the earth.About things that sleep in the cold places, things that feed on fear and desperation.”I meet Blade’s eyes.“Things that were sealed away for a reason.”
“Sealed where?”Blade asks.
“Wherever the ice never melts.The deep places.The forgotten places.”I lean back, thinking about legends I haven’t considered in centuries.“Alaska’s permafrost would be perfect.And if climate change is melting it...”
“Then we’ve got a fucking problem,” Blade finishes.
Prophet nods slowly.“The question is, why is it acting now?And why here specifically?”
I don’t answer immediately because I know the answer, and I don’t want to say it out loud.Don’t want to admit what my instincts have been screaming at me for days.
But Blade knows me too well.“Vex.”
