Those bastards have no idea what's about to hit them, no clue about the world of pain they just brought down on their own heads.
They think they can take what's mine? They think they can lay a hand on my mate and just fucking sail away into the sunset?
They've got another thing coming. I'll hunt them to the ends of this fucking realm if I have to, through hell and high water and everything in between.
And when I catch them... when I finally lay my hands on the filthy bastard that dared to touch my girl...
There won't be enough left of him to feed the fish.
That's a promise sworn on in my honor as a Viking, warrior, her man, and mate.
I'm coming for you, Angel.
And God help anyone who gets in my fucking way.
Lucian
17
Ilounge on the couch, sipping from a blood bag like it's a Capri Sun. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the sustenance, but there's something about the plastic aftertaste that just doesn't quite hit the spot like a warm, willing neck. But beggars can't be choosers, I guess. Or, in this case, vampires can't be choosers.
I learned my lesson real quick when the blood called to me like an addict, and I attempted to attack both Emily and Sable in a fit of hunger-fueled desperation. It's like my brain short-circuits, and all I can think about is sinking my fangs into their soft, warm flesh and gulping down that sweet nectar of life.
But Emily, with her freaky witch powers that I still don't fully understand, just holds up a hand like she's some kind of supernatural traffic cop, and suddenly I'm knocked on my ass, feeling like my head is about to explode into a million tiny pieces. It's like the worst migraine you can imagine, multiplied by a thousand, with a side of 'fuck you, vampire boy.'
And the worst part? Emily just keeps me in that state of mind-numbing agony until I'm reduced to a screaming bitch on the floor, begging for mercy. It's humiliating, really. Here I am, a big bad vampire who's probably seen and done some seriously fucked up shit in my long undead life, and I'm brought to my knees by a tiny slip of a witch with a chip on her shoulder.
But I guess I can't really blame her. I did try to snack on her and her bestie like they were walking, talking juice boxes. So, we came to a compromise. I drink from plastic sippy straws like a goddamn toddler, and the girls get to keep their necks hole-free and their hearts beating. It's a win-win, except for my dignity, which has pretty much been shredded to pieces at this point.
I smirk at the two witches who have been playing nursemaid to me for the past couple of days. "You know, I gotta hand it to you ladies. You sure know how to show aguy a good time. Blood bags, memory loss, and a crash course in supernatural politics. It's like a fucked-up version of a spa day."
Emily rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky,fangboy.If it weren't for the fact that we need you in one piece, I would've let you starve. Or maybe I would've just fed you to the neighbor's chihuahua. God knows that little fucker could use a chew toy."
I clutch my chest in mock horror. "Oh, Emily, you wound me! And here I thought we were building a beautiful friendship based on mutual snark and a shared love of inappropriate humor. I'm hurt, truly."
Emily scoffs, and I can practically hear her eyes rolling in their sockets. It's like her default setting is 'unimpressed with Lucian's bullshit.'
So far, I've learned that vampires are out of the coffin now. Like, we're not just lurking in the shadows anymore, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting virgins and dramatic teenagers. Nope, we're out and proud, walking among the humans like another minority group fighting for our rights.
But I guess that's just the way the world works now. Vampires, witches, werewolves... we're all just one big, happy, dysfunctional family like the Addams Family, but with more blood and less quirky charm.
And speaking of family, I've got two brothers out there somewhere—Brothers by blood, or I guess, by venom. I don't remember Jack shit about them, but according to Emily and Sable, they're pretty badass. I mean, they'd have to be to put up with my amnesiac ass.
This Dani chick is the key to this prophecy: the chosen one, the savior of the supernatural world, the whole nine yards.
Also, can we talk about the "no sunlight" situation? Emily and Sable keep this apartment blacked out like it's perpetually Halloween. I mean, I get it; they're trying to keep me from bursting into flames like a fucking marshmallow at a campfire—but come on.
This Dani girl is the only one who can give me access to the sun, which sucks ass—because she's missing.
I wonder what other surprises this brave new world has in store for me. Maybe I'll find out that fairies are real, and they're all just a bunch of glitter-covered assholes with a penchant for mischief. Or perhaps I'll discover that dragons are a thing, and they're just really grumpy lizards with a hoarding problem.
Who the fuck knows?
All I know is that I'm along for the ride, whether I like it or not. And if I'm gonna be a part of this supernatural soap opera, I might as well embrace the chaos and have some fun with it.
But first, I need to figure out who the hell I am and what my role is in this whole clusterfuck of a situation. Because right now, I feel like I'm just a supporting character in someone else's story, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that stand
"Why do you keep me around?" I ask, my tone equal parts frustrated and curious. "I mean, I can't remember jack shit. Not my friends, my family, my vampire past... it's all just one big, gaping hole in my memory. I'm like a walking, talking amnesiac with fangs. But apparently, I'm essential for some reason that you haven't fully explained yet. So what gives?"
