“This is your biological second-cousin. She married a British man and currently lives in Manchester. The Order has a chapter in the area. We can help you fake your death here, a death so convincing even the vampires will believe it, and then offer protection after you get settled in the UK.”
The Order has the resources to make anyone disappear, and I’ve heard of them slowly taking blood until there’s enough to dump around a fake crime scene to make it look like someone lost too much blood to survive. If it’s my blood, vampires would be able to smell it.
But I don’t believe Marcus, not for a fucking second. Besides, he’s not offering this out of the kindness of his heart.
“What do you want in return?” I lean forward, putting my hands on the table as energy crackles between my fingers. Marcus tenses and then looks around, afraid someone is going to see.
“I want to know everything there is to know about the Malus vampires. You’ve been on the inside. If we work together, we can stop them, once and for all.”
“Stop them from what?” My brows furrow and I shake my head.
“Don’t play dumb with me here, Florence. The Malus family is very connected and has a lot of control over not just this city but many others.”
“Right, the whole mafia thing.” I wave my hand in the air, intentionally sending a spark of energy out from my fingers. “All I know are the same rumors you’ve heard.”
Marcus’s eyes narrow and the fake charm disappears from his face. “I’m offering you a chance to get out of a burning building, Florence. If the flames don’t get you, the smoke will.”
“I guess that’s a chance I’m going to take. I’m not accepting your deal.”
“Think about this. Think about who’s side you’re on.”
“Oh, I am thinking and I know exactly where I stand. My side. I’m looking out for my own best interest from now on because you certainly aren’t.”
Marcus’s face darkens, letting me know he really thought it would be that easy. He could waltz in here and offer me some bullshit arrangement, making me betray the only people who have been honest with me.
“If you do this, everyone will hail you the hero you and I both know you are.”
“And if I don’t?” I shrug and shake my head. “I don’t care.”
“You do, and you and I both know how much you’ve wanted to be anything other than the villain in the eyes of the Order. Get out of the burning building, Florence. Before you go down with it. We can smooth this all over. Say you had no choice in rescuing the vampires. You hurt humans. You stood back and allowed your vampire husband to murder innocent people. This kind of stuff gets around. What will your little sister, Gia, think when she knows you attacked Larissa in order to save a killer-vampire? You’ll always be the villain.”
I take in a slow breath, staring down Marcus. “Maybe I am the villain. But you’re the coward who started the fire and left me to burn. I did what was necessary to escape and if that makes me the bad guy, then so be it.” Shaking my head, I get up. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to go tell my husband how one of the Order council members just tried to bribe me into betraying him.”
The stunned look on Marcus’s face is worth it as I march out of there, but I know if I share this information with Xavier, there’s no way I can stop him from going to war.
Chapter
Eight
Heart in my throat, I walk out of that cafe and don’t even dare to look back. There are Order members stationed all along this street, and I’ll be damned before I let them see any emotion on my face even though I’m seething inside.
Marcus came into that meeting with the angle that he was saving me. But I know better. Even if it meant getting information about the Malus vampires, they wouldn’t help me. I hurry down the sidewalk, bothered by something I can’t place my finger on. It’s not just that they want info on the Malus family, but it’s that Marcus offered to help me.
The Order doesn’t make promises they can’t keep—they don’t make promises at all. So why would Marcus try to sell that story about my second-cousin? I know there are relatives of mine out there. My family line didn’t completely die with my parents. The Order would certainly know about my surviving family members.
But why send me to the UK? Xavier has family all over the world. It’s not realistic to think sending me away would protect me from them. I slow to a stop at a street corner, waiting next to two well dressed women, probably on their way to a fancy job ina fancy office, totally oblivious to what goes on in this city after dark.
Suddenly, a man comes rushing up behind us. You have got to be fucking kidding me. I am not in the mood to deal with an attempted mugging. Clenching my fists, I whirl around just as the man grabs one of the businesswoman’s arms. They both scream and the woman tries to jerk away.
“Hey!” I shout and the man jerks his head up, staring at me, but it’s like he’s looking through me, not into my eyes. He mumbles something unintelligible and pulls on the woman’s arm again. Her purse is hanging on the shoulder of her other arm—and he’s not going for it.
“Let her go,” I say and bring my hand down on the inside of his elbow, and the force breaks his connection. He turns, gaze locking in on mine. There’s something wrong with his eyes. At first, I think they’re bloodshot, but the red is too dark. Thick, black, inky lines web across the whites, and his pupils are too dilated for this time of day.
“Ratunku,” he says, reaching for me this time. “Ratunku!”
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” I reply.
“Pomóz mi, szeptucha,” he says, tone begging and I just shake my head.
