“Where did they go?”
“They ran. After I…” I trail off, looking at my hands again. “After I set one of them on fire.”
Crave’s jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind. He stands, pulling out his phone, and speaks rapidly into it. “Rogue, get Hex to pull garage surveillance. Three of Viktor’s scions attacked Sloane at the hospital. They fled north… No, she’s alive. She fought them off… I’ll explain when I get there. Justfind them.” He ends the call and crouches back down to my level. For a long moment, we stare at each other.
Then the words pour out of me, terrified and demanding. “What the hell were those things?” My voice breaks. “They had fangs, Crave. Their eyes glowed red. They moved too fast. They called me not human, but Iamhuman, I have to be human because—”
“Sloane—”
“What the hell am I?What the hell were those things!”
The question echoes in the empty garage, raw and pleading.
Crave’s expression shifts. A war plays out behind his eyes, decades, centuries of secrets fighting against something else. Something that looks dangerously close to caring. It’s as if he can’t stand to see me like this, broken, terrified, and alone.
Finally, he speaks, and when he does, his voice carries the weight of confession. “Vampires.” The word hangs in the air between us. “Those things were vampires. Young ones. Reckless ones. But vampires nonetheless.”
My mind rebels against it even as my body recognizes the truth. “That’s impossible. Vampires aren’t real. They’re stories… myths.”
“Are they?” He gestures to my hands, where the glow is finally fading completely. “Is fire coming from your palms a myth? Is healing from burns overnight a myth? You’ve known somethingwas different. You’ve felt it every time you walked into my bar. Every time we touched.”
He’s right.
God help me, he’s right.
“And you,” I whisper, pieces clicking into place with horrible certainty. “You’re one of them?”
He doesn’t deny it. Just holds my gaze, letting me see the truth in those too-old, too-knowing eyes.
“Yes.”
The word should terrify me.
It should send me running.
But instead, strangely, it settles something inside me.
It reshapes everything I thought I knew.
“Then what does that make me?” My voice sounds so small, almost childlike. “Because I’m not a vampire. I’m not… what am I?”
Crave reaches out slowly, every movement measured. His fingers brush my cheek, cool against my flushed skin, and I don’t pull away.
“I don’t know,” he admits, and the honesty in his voice breaks something open in my chest. “I’ve lived a very long time, Sloane. I’ve seen things most humans couldn’t imagine. But you…” His thumb traces my cheekbone gently. “You’re something I’veneverseen before. Something that shouldn’t exist. Your blood sings to me, but it also protects you from me. Your fire burns vampires, but you’re not a hunter. You’re… awakening, rising, into what, I can’t say.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“Those things, they were looking for me. They knew my name.”
His expression hardens, the predator bleeding through the man. “Viktor. He’s testing boundaries. Seeing what kind ofattention he can draw.” Crave helps me to my feet, his hands steady on my arms. “But he made a mistake. He went after you, and that means he declared war on the Eternal Sins MC.”
“I don’t understandanyof this.”
“You will.” He guides me toward his motorcycle. “But first, I’m getting you somewhere safe. Somewhere theycan’treach you.”
“The clubhouse?”
