Castillo

By Kristen Portillo

Emmalyn refuses to obey the new law that says she can’t drink human blood. In fact, she intentionally flaunts her murders. When she’s arrested and taken before the Lord of vampires she expects to die. Instead, she is inserted into his harem of human and vampire mistresses where she learns secrets about her world she never expected: who the Lord of the Vampires actually is, the reason behind the bloodless law, and how it is all woven into her past...A past that links her to the leader of the supernatural world and his quest for the one who will bear his heir.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristen Portillo
• Release date: May 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463709023

Kristen Portillo

Kristen Portillo is a 33 year old mom to two girls. Quirky, sarcastic, politically incorrect and religiously committed, she spends her free time writing her books and playing with her children. She lives in Vancouver (not British Columbia) where she derives most of the setting inspiration for her novels. Special thanks to linh.ngân for allowing the use of "Fallen Angel" as Evanescent's book cover.

Book preview

Castillo

By

Kristen Portillo

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and events are fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Castillo

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2018 by Kristen Portillo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used, reproduced or redistributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Acknowledgments

Para mis hijas hermosas

Ustedes eran mi gran sueño

Ya son mi mayor orgullo

Las amo como no tienen idea

xoxo

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15 347

Chapter 16 363

Chapter 1

— Emmalyn —

I wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb to find a smear of remnant blood. That won’t do. The streets are bustling with the Saturday night party crowd. How would it look for a pretty girl to be wandering around with blood smeared across her lips? I lick the blood from my thumb and weave through the throngs of people, inhaling deeply. Mmm. I take in the wafting aromas that each human emits but none can smell. My sinuses swell with the pungent perfume, venom pools around my teeth, and my throat burns with renewed thirst. The night is young and music blares from shops and steam unfurls from the street carts peddling their greasy foods and alcoholic beverages. I’m not interested in their goods, just their clientele. I’ve already made an appetizer of an unsuspecting taxi driver, an all-too-eager prostitute, and two homeless men. But I’m still thirsty. I’m always thirsty.

Hey, baby girl!

My ears perk at the stranger’s voice. I know he’s talking to me but I pretend not to hear. I enjoy this cat and mouse game. I’m too rarely allowed the pleasure of playing it this way. I watch myself in his lustful mind’s eye. His inebriated view of me is skewed highly in my favor. If he weren’t as drunk as he is, he would intuitively sense the danger that I pose. Sober humans deflect my attention without even realizing, which is why I like drunken humans so much better.

Over here! he yells and hiccups, waving his beer bottle in the air. It sloshes out onto his arm—and he is completely oblivious.

I turn and feign looking for him, though I know exactly where he is, exactly where his feet are planted, his height, and approximate weight just by the smell of him—dense and savory. When my eyes meet his, mine widen in mock surprise and I point at myself.

‘Me?’ I mouth innocently, realizing with a momentary zip of excitement just how very young he is. Probably just graduated from high school, if his drunken flashes of memory are at all telling.

His expression falters and his eyebrows pull together, intuition trying to kick in, but then a wide smile spreads over his otherwise generic face and he nods eagerly. You free tonight, baby? He bumbles over his words, wagging his eyebrows.

I smirk, unable to stop myself. Thirst brings out the mean girl in me. I bat my eyelashes and move toward him, allowing the full assault of my brilliant smile to overwhelm him. He pauses once more, when I am close enough for him to see the color of my eyes—bright crimson with the fresh blood in my system. I watch him try to make sense of what he’s seeing. He shoves aside the instinct to turn around, and puzzles instead over whether they are actually that color or if he’s imagining it.

Contacts, he decides, though his own eyeballs bounce back and forth on mine trying to ease the restless feeling in his stomach that something isn’t right. Adrenaline pumps like a bass through his veins.

What were you thinking, handsome? His aversion to me dissolves as soon as I speak. His shoulders relax and his pupils contract. He likes the sound of my voice; it sounds like sex and candy—every teen boy’s wet dream.

Um, why don’t we go-get out of here? he slurs.

I resist the urge to laugh at his naivety. Instead, I run my index finger down the front of his shirt from neck to belly following it with my eyes and then glance back up to his. He’s motionless.

What’s your name? I ask.

His eyes are immediately drawn from my fingers on his shirt to my mouth, mesmerized. I’m Aaron.

Well, Aaron, why don’t you take me wherever you want to go? I pause and make a show of biting my lower lip.

Really? His voice squeaks and his mind races, not expecting my answer. He wonders fleetingly if his parents are home. He worries about his inexperience. His heart thuds deliciously in his chest, and I can hear the gush of blood through his veins with each beat.

Well, not if you don’t want to. My fingertip trails down to his belt, undeterred despite the minor distraction of the rapid pulse in his neck. I tug gently on the buckle.

His hormones skyrocket. The flush that creeps up his neck, through his cheeks, and to the tips of his ears makes my taste buds sing in anticipation. Oh, he wants to. He really wants to—and so do I. He takes a swig of his beer and lets it drop to the ground. It cracks against the street, spilling over his shoes, but again he can’t be bothered to notice. I smile to myself. He’s thinking how lucky he is to have not only gotten away with underage drinking tonight, but actually drawing my attention too. He’s already planning the story he’ll tell his friends. Too bad he won’t ever have the chance, I think to myself.

Aaron takes my hand, and I allow him to pull me into a deserted alley nearby. Halfway in he stops and pushes me up against the brick building. I want to laugh at his clumsiness. He kisses me furiously, like he wants to devour my face. If it were necessary to breathe, I wouldn’t be able to. His mouth moves like a gaping fish in a figure eight over both my nose and mouth, his tongue slicking my skin, and when he pulls away to look down at my chest the strings of saliva that stretch between our lips make me cringe. He doesn’t notice. His hands are everywhere: in my hair, on my body, one fumbling with his own belt buckle while the other is also trying to undo mine.

Here in the alley? I make my voice shrill and embarrassed. It excites him even more.

He groans his affirmation while unsuccessfully trying to unzip himself. There is no one and nothing else in the alley. The music and crowds are muffled to my ears and all but silent now to any human’s. If I had been a human, with any scruples or self worth, I would have given up on this rendezvous. He can’t even unbuckle his belt! I press my lips together to keep from chuckling out loud at his ineptitude.

Come on! Aaron growls into my hair as he struggles.

There’s no hurry, I whisper and twine my fingers through his wavy, blonde hair, pressing my body against the length of his. We have all night, don’t we?

He pulls back to look into my face and the dopey, lust-filled grin falls from his lips when he sees me smiling. He is unable to focus fully on my mouth and struggles to make sense of what is out of place. My hands drop to the waist of his pants where my fingers slide beneath the leather strap of his belt, holding him securely in place.

Do you want to be my boyfriend, Aaron? I tease, allowing my lips to pull back further over my teeth.

His eyes widen and though he still doesn’t fully understand what he is seeing, the signal to his brain that there is a clear and present danger abruptly starts firing properly and he struggles to smoothly break out of my grasp.

Hey, yeah, no—I mean that sounds great, but I just remembered my friends are waiting for me. He jambs his thumb over his shoulder, trying not to meet my eyes.

Really? Maybe they can join us, I run my tongue over my teeth, and his pulse speeds into overdrive in his neck.

I–I don’t think so. I don’t, I mean, I gotta go. He tries to turn to leave, to get away from me, but when he looks down at my hands firmly gripping his belt, his adrenaline spikes.

I think you should stay, Aaron, I purr.

Wha-what the hell is wrong with you? I said I have to go meet my friends! He pulls at my fingers, but they don’t move. Let go! he shrieks, and I smile inwardly at the high-pitched, girlish cadence.

Aw, where are you going, baby? I frown dramatically. You’re going to hurt my feelings.

I said I have to go! What is your problem? he screams again.

I chuckle softly, and he only struggles harder, grabbing my arms in a bruising grip that would have left a mark on any human girl. His eyes bulge from their sockets at my continued laughter, the sight of my fangs, and my resilience to his efforts. I watch, amused, as he continues to try in vain to pry my fingers from his belt. When this too is unsuccessful, I see the decision in his mind to hit me.

Oh Aaron, you would never hit a lady, would you? I watch his resolute expression dissolve as it dawns on him that I have literally read his mind, and he starts screaming for help. I roll my eyes again and sigh before releasing him.

He falls back on his ass and crabwalks several feet before flipping over and scrambling to his feet.

Aaron! I call after him sweetly as he heads toward the exit of the alley.

He runs away from me, looking over his shoulder, and slams directly into my body. The force of impact sends him to the ground again. He shuffles back on his hands and butt, shoving off with his feet. He is horrified and I can hear the delicious thrashing of his heart in his chest.

What the hell are you? he cries.

An angel? A devil? Does it really matter? I take a step toward him and offer my hand to help him up.

He recoils. Stay away from me! I take another step toward him. He flinches.

Tell you what, baby… I close the distance between us and crouch down over him. When he tries to scoot away again, I grab his lower thigh and squeeze until his kneecap pops just slightly. He screams and I grin. Let’s play a game, okay? You’re my boyfriend, and I am going to show you off to the city. Then you’ll do me some… favors. As long as you don’t cry, vomit, run, or scream for help, I’ll let you live. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

Aaron had begun to whimper halfway through my proposal. I sigh and squeeze the same pressure point above his knee with a satisfying pop that doesn’t quite dislocate his kneecap. He screams again and nods vigorously. Tears roll down his cheeks. Thoughts of his parents and friends, police officers, and other people who could save him from me shoot like rapid fire through his mind. I intentionally block the torrent, annoyed by the distraction.

Come on now! I reach out for his hand and when he hesitates I grab his other leg.

No! he cries and grabs my hand, allowing me to pull him to his feet.

He limps as we exit the alley, back among the rest of the world. I lace our fingers together and feel the chords of his arm go rigid at my touch. Glancing over at him, he has his chin to his chest, staring at his feet as we walk.

Chin up, buttercup. We wouldn’t want people to think you’re not having a great time, would we? I croon.

What do you want from me? Aaron croaks and swallows hard. I can hear his ragged breath wheezing in and out of his lungs.

Oh Aaron, you can’t imagine the things I want from you. I pull him close to me as we walk out onto the main street.

The food carts are still smoking, the culinary aromas permeating every air molecule. Street musicians play lively jazz to our left and others break dance to blaring hip-hop music on our right. No one is the wiser of what just occurred in the alley. Aaron’s eyes dart to each passerby, hoping to catch their attention, praying for a savior. I squeeze his hand that is still twined in mine, waiting for that familiar sensation just before the bones snap. He squirms and groans, and I take particular pleasure in watching the vein in his forehead that begins to pulse.

I am abruptly distracted by a vibration of closely guarded, supernatural thoughts nearby. I inhale deeply but smell nothing more than human food and human blood. I concentrate on that unfamiliar chord in my mind that stands out and makes me nervous. It’s as though someone wants me to know they’re there, but not why. Looking around for anyone who might be watching us, I squeeze Aaron tighter to me and nuzzle into his shoulder. He shudders and I can hear his teeth grind nervously.

What’s the matter, baby? I ask, bringing my focus back to him.

Don’t call me that, he whispers through gritted teeth. I didn’t ask for this. I’m sure there is someone else who wants to play your sick games.

I turn into him and pull him to me, wrapping my arms around his back, holding him to me with all my strength. To anyone else, we look like a couple who have turned to have a tender moment among the throngs of pedestrians, but Aaron feels the intense pressure of my hands on his lower spine and he is paralyzed with fear.

I chose you for this game. Now, are you going to play like a good boy or do we need to change the rules? He doesn’t speak or move and I purse my lips. Let me put it this way; if I press here just a little bit harder and twist you will never walk again. My other hand travels up to the back of his neck as though I might pull him to me for a kiss. And it only takes one quick snap to make sure someone is feeding you mush, taking you to the toilet, and bathing all your naughty bits for you for the rest of your life.

Why are you doing this? he chokes on a sob he’s trying to suppress, and I close my eyes. This close, the smell of his blood pulsing through his veins is enough to drive me mad. Thirst hums in the back of my throat, and I run my lips and nose over the skin just above his jugular.

Bite your lip, I whisper, lifting my mouth to his ear.

What? He tries to step back and catches himself before he cries out in pain at the immediate increase in pressure on his spine.

Bite your lip. Make it bleed.

You’re batshit crazy, he whines.

You don’t know the half of it, cupcake. Now do it.

I step back to watch him do what I’ve asked, when that peculiar thread of scrupulously veiled thought diverts my attention again. I barely notice as Aaron curses, trying to dig into his own lip with his teeth. I never said it would be easy, I think, but then my concentration is dragged elsewhere again. Someone is watching us. I’m certain of it. My muscles flex instinctively, small in size but with strength that several men couldn’t easily overpower. I’m immediately possessive of my meal and, turning back to Aaron, I smack his face. I’m agitated that my fun might be cut short and more so that he’s still trying to saw through the fleshy part of his bottom lip with his teeth.

Like this! Before he even realizes what I’ve done, my fingers slide across his mouth, my nail dragging a thick jagged gash across the line of his bottom lip. I pull him to me, sucking his lip and his blood into my mouth, careful not to touch him with my teeth. I groan at the small taster of what is soon to come.

What the f—

Yeah, I agree. Not the best kiss I’ve ever had either, sugar. I take his hand, lacing my fingers nonchalantly through his once again. When he resists, I dig my fingers into the fleshy spaces between his bones, and he relents.

Aaron wipes his tingling lower lip with the back of his free hand and realizes that I’ve left no residual blood on his face. How could I? It was too delicious to waste. His mind races, worried about his numb lip, as I drag him through the food vendors, the street performers, and the onslaught of human partiers to a more secluded area. His thoughts nearly beg for someone to notice that what is happening to him is not normal, but no one does. They don’t even look up as we pass.

Are you going to let me go now? he asks when I stop at the mouth of another vacant alley. I drag him behind me into the darkest reaches of the maintenance road, situated between two vacant commercial buildings. I can still see as if there is light, but I know he will be essentially blind here.

Oh Aaron, the fun has barely begun. I pull him in front of me and he’s trembling.

What are you going to do? he asks, but I don’t acknowledge the question.

I press my lips together as the tether of foreign thoughts grows alarmingly stronger in my head. Not only is someone watching us, they’re following us. I look up at the staggered office balconies and wonder where this invisible stalker is hiding. I don’t want to lose the opportunity to enjoy my meal.

Unfortunately, we’re going to have to cut this short, and I’m going to be honest with you, love, I was never going to let you go.

In the darkness, he takes a step back into the brick wall behind him. He freezes and shivers but doesn’t have time to react beyond that. I slam his back and head into the brick with a dull crack and he gasps for the breath that is knocked out of his lungs. I don’t want him running. I thread my fingers tightly into his hair, pulling his head to the side and let my teeth sink into the soft, buttery skin of his neck. I pull away only slightly, allowing the exquisite liquid to pour into my mouth. He pushes weakly against me now, a futile attempt to get away. My mind ascends into euphoria as the decadent flavor erupts through my senses. I don’t even care that some of it is dripping to the ground beneath us or the consequences that may have. Time seems to speed up. I know too soon his body will be depleted, and I will have to start over again; I’ll have to find another plaything, another body to drain. No reason to think about that now, though. It’s time to enjoy.

Em, I hear my name, spoken by a familiar voice, but I’m not done. I close my eyes, pulling harder from his artery, reveling in the liquid that gushes down my throat and sends electrical crescendos through my veins. Emma! Elation turns to fury. Emmalyn, you can’t just keep killing them!A strong hand clamps down on my shoulder and tears me away from my feast.

Aaron’s body slumps to the ground, unconscious now, and my eyes flash to the hand gripping my shoulder and then the face belonging to it. My instinct to dismember the intruder is only mildly quelled by the fact that it’s Benjamin Suarez. I growl loudly, the sound echoing through the alley. I should have known. His hungry, amber eyes are squinted at me. I cannot see his thoughts the way I can see most, and that has always frustrated me.

Who else is with you? I ask, referring to the owner of the locked thoughts inside my head.

Don’t be ridiculous. No one’s with me. Now move out of the way before he starts to turn. Ben attempts to push past me, but I stand my ground, defending my meal.

Glaring at me now, his mind is muddled, confusing me, but the expression on his face is crystal clear. He’s angry and disappointed in me, as he always is when he catches me on a spree. Blood is splattered across my shirt, dripping down my chin and pooling beneath the place where Aaron lies.

Move Emmalyn!

You must have a death wish, Ben! I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"You are the one with the death wish! Exasperation is etched into the lines of his forehead, but I’m indignant... and still parched. I peer back longingly at the blood that is still dripping from the punctures in Aaron’s neck. Move!" Ben tries to push me aside again, but with fresh blood in my veins I’m stronger than he is.

No! What are you doing here, anyway? I’m sure you have somewhere else to be, someone else’s meal to ruin! I grit, knowing well that he feels obligated to stay near to ensure I am not captured by the Catal—the enforcers of vampiric law. The notion of them sends a tremor of panic through me, but it quickly dissolves as my attention is drawn back to Ben.

You aren’t having a meal. You’re playing with humans like toys and then massacring them. I can see that Ben is nearly at his wit’s end. If only I could unclutter his thoughts. My inability to do so only aggravates me, and my thirst rapidly unfolds with my agitation. Logically, I know Ben has every right to be fearful of the Catal, but even knowing the consequence is death, very little ever makes more sense to me than consuming what I can, when I can, as often as I can. Sometimes I think it would just be easier if they did catch me, and in the meantime, I will have had my fun and my fill.

Turning back to Aaron, I crouch down and reach back to Ben. Come, sit with me for old time’s sake while I finish my meal and then I’ll stop. I promise. I pause for effect. Or you can join me?

Emmalyn, I will not join you! There are other options that won’t get us killed!

Ben is immediately at my side ripping me away from Aaron for a second time. I allow him to this time. The sting of his rejection is as painful as it always is. He holds me too tightly by my shoulders, crushing the skin and bones the way only other vampires can. I snarl and jerk out of his grasp. Immediately my shoulders mend themselves. Ben’s eyes narrow, his expression appalled, and glares at me.

I won’t feed from blood bags, and I will certainly not hunt animals. I grit my teeth and seethe thinking about the absurd ‘authorized alternatives’ vampires are ‘permitted as sustenance’ now. We are meant to feed on fresh human blood and a stupid law doesn’t change that.

Ben ignores my obstinacy and moves to Aaron. I am struck by the fact that if Ben and I stand arguing much longer, Aaron will start to turn. That would serve Ben right, but he kneels next to Aaron and, as though he weighs nothing, lifts him into a sitting position. He carefully tilts the unconscious man’s head to the side so that my bite wounds are exposed, and his lips touch the wounds so gently that any human might think Ben was just kissing the stranger. I can only grimace, revolted, as he siphons my venom from Aaron’s circulatory system so that he won’t turn.

Don’t tell me you aren’t tempted, I sneer, knowing that even through the venom Ben can taste Aaron’s blood. He’s always been stronger than me when it came to restraint, and the truth is, I’m jealous that I’m unable to do what he can.

When he finishes, Ben glances back at me over his shoulder, then lightly presses his fingers to Aaron’s closed eyes. I cast my eyes to the side, resentful of this talent also: transferring confusion into people’s minds, jumbling and contorting their memories. When Aaron awakens, he will remember my face only as a drunken blur and our ‘almost encounter’ like a dream. His head will hurt so intensely from the thwack his skull took that he will assume his jumbled memories are from the blow.

Ben stands when he’s done, not a drop of blood lingering on him, while holding my gaze. I’m glad you find my concern so trivial. You’d think you would at least abstain to save your own ass. I can’t save you from yourself for all eternity Em.

No one asked you to, I retort.

He opens his mouth to respond but then closes it. I know what he’s going to say; it’s a conversation we’ve had thousands of times. He desperately wants to make me see reason. He wants to protect me. He feels guilty for not protecting me from myself. I shake my head. I look down at my feet. He also has a peculiar way of making me feel supremely inferior without even trying.

Stop trying to translate what you think you see and listen to what I say right now. His voice is low as he reaches to touch my crossed arms. I’ve told you time and time again what the Catal will do if they get a hold of you, Em. He shakes his head. You have got to stop killing humans, and if not for yourself, then for me. I love you too much to lose you.

I flinch away from him, disgust drawing my face into a scowl. Don’t be cruel, Benjamin. You just feel ashamed to be associated with me and guilty because—

"Are you ever going to forgive me? I do love you, just not like that."

"Just not like that! Great! Thank you for confirming it... yet again!" My anger flares, fanned by resentment and this damned burning thirst. I turn away from Ben to crouch next to Aaron. I run my fingers over the place where my bite has already scabbed over.

Don’t do it, Em. Come on. Come with me. I sense Ben directly behind me, and see his extended hand in my peripheral vision. We should get out of here before he wakes up.

I want to go with him. Everything in me aches to follow him. I want to wrap my arms around him and feel his arms around me. I have wanted Ben for what feels like an eternity but my feelings are not reciprocated. He sees me as a sister, and I know that continuing to indulge in the wrongful notion that he might ever feel the same will only end in my self-destruction.

I won’t kill him. My throat revolts when I swallow, burning like fire as I inhale the scent of the blood that is coagulating on the ground beneath me. Every compulsive nerve in my body wants to rip Aaron’s head from his neck and bathe in the fountain of red. I’m not leaving with you either. Just go.

His shadow beside me shakes his head. He stands at my back for only a moment longer and then, in silence, disappears from the alley, back out into the streets toward the city. He’s right, of course; I can’t keep killing. Aaron would have been the twenty-sixth in one day, and with the Catal on the hunt for any vampire openly killing humans, they would certainly sentence me to death if they caught me. I wonder again if that would just be simpler, to let them end this.

I stand and stare at Aaron who is slowly coming out of his stupor. He will be fine, if just hung over with a mild concussion. Ben removed all traces of my venom making the risk of him turning or dying non-existent, and his memories will be sufficiently chaotic that he won’t be able to verbalize them. I run my tongue along my bottom lip and taste the remnant blood left there. I close my eyes, reveling in the residual taste.

Then, before I decide to throw all caution to the wind and finish my meal, I move in the blink of a human eye to the opening of the alley. I stop short, my senses assaulted by the aggressive presence of several men in head to toe militant uniforms enclosing on the entrance. The tether of concealed foreign thoughts in my head pings like rapidly plucked chords and bursts open to display just who had been watching me. They stand, feet spread, hands crossed in front of their bodies. Six pairs of cold, marble eyes hold me frozen in place.

Emmalyn Avery, the peculiar looking Catal guard addresses me in an accented baritone. You are accused of the execution of twenty-five mortals and attempted execution of a twenty-sixth, in defiance of the Mortal Sustenance Prohibition Mandate brought down by Lord Castillo of Alella in accordance with the Blood Lust Law enacted by The Shield.

Fear, an emotion I don’t have much experience with, envelops me. A feral growl escapes my mouth, and I instinctively bare my fangs, backing up like a cornered animal prepared to attack or flee.

Ben was right; I’d gone too far. Panicking for an instant, I estimate the probability of escaping these men. My eyes flash from the ground to the buildings on either side of us, estimating their approximate height, my maximum speed, and realize no matter where I turn, there are too many of them. I am not skilled in running to evade, only to pursue, and my prey is always so much slower than me. The guard in front of me anticipates my thoughts.

If you run, you will die. If you attack me, you will die. Do yourself a favor and surrender.

I swallow. My chance of escaping these men is slim and if I run and fail, I will be killed anyway and probably in a much more gruesome and painful way than if I just surrender. I realize there is no other choice but to surrender and resign myself to this fate. It will be better this way. I was eighteen years old when I was turned. I have no memories of a time before venom circulated my veins and human blood governed my existence, before the sun became my enemy and the darkness of night my closest ally. The mortal life I left behind is a distant and smeared illusion, like a pleasant dream I woke from seventeen years ago into this reality of monsters that walk among humans. I had met Ben in my first coven and fell hopelessly for him. The romantic feelings were not mutual, so my only consolation in this perpetual nightmare had been the endless buffet of humans that wander the streets at all godforsaken hours of the night. My capture and inevitable death now, means I will no longer be tortured by my longing for Ben, and I will be mercifully rid of this endless, compulsive blood lust.

I watch warily as one guard takes particular satisfaction in approaching me with handcuffs that glean white in the dark alley. I know, even before he violently shackles my hands together, that these are no ordinary mortal handcuffs. I hiss and recoil as the abrasive material sears into my wrists. It feels as though they have been secured with freshly tempered spikes and every movement sends a new slice of fire across my skin.

Let’s go, the guard speaks dispassionately, pleased by my reaction.

In that moment, it’s as if a dam bursts inside my mind and the dark tether of thoughts that had been following me throughout the night, held at bay by an iron curtain, flood my brain, reconfirming that it had been the Catal the entire time. I grimace against the searing cuffs, the inundation of powerful Catal military-esque mental mantras, and the roar of my own trepidation in my ears.

I follow the lone guard back to the others, and they fall into a tight formation, a vampire barricade on all sides of me, as we move into the streets and through the crowds. They think I’ll try to escape and they’re prepared to kill me on the spot if I attempt to run. I’m surprised they haven’t killed me already. I cringe with every step as the fires of my restraints torment me, and yet, they keep me from retreating into my mind. I remain vigilant to each movement the guards make. Humans turn to watch us, smartphones raised to document, as the group of foreign guards move quickly through the streets, but soon return to their activities when they realize they cannot see who has been taken into custody.

Emmalyn! I hear Ben’s frantic shout from some distance behind and above us.

I close my eyes. No, Ben. Why are you still here? I don’t want him to see this, but I sense him following us, closing the distance between us. Of course, he’d been watching to make sure I left Aaron alive, and now he’s watching them take me away—from the rooftops.

Emmalyn! His voice cracks.

He is terrified. I can feel it. Through the confusion he constantly drowns his thoughts in, I see that he feels completely powerless and also a bit of... relief? My mind races, shocked and confused. Relief to be rid of me. That isn’t specifically what I see, but is the implication of his feelings. My emotions rage against one another, and it occurs to me that he must have never cared about me at all. He hadn’t been protecting me. He’d only been protecting himself. This morose idea allows me to surrender any lingering fight that might have remained in me. Without warning, we stop at a black SUV and I am ushered into the vehicle, followed by the Catal, shut off from the world and Ben. I can no longer see where he is or feel any of what he is feeling. Despair descends over me like a thick cloak. It is better this way.

Adjusting myself between two of the guards so that the caustic handcuffs are resting on minimal amounts of skin, I realize that six sets of human colored eyes are watching me. As the SUV speeds away, I am distracted by the blue and green and brown irises. Yet, their scent is unmistakably vampire. I can’t help but wonder how that’s possible. The curiosity swiftly evaporates when I realize that they’re all poised to subdue and eliminate me at my slightest erroneous movement. Survival mode reflexively kicks in, and I’m hyper aware of the smallest details: each sound and every movement within the vehicle. For the moment, Ben is put completely out of my mind. Two of the guards are bored and find this entire situation tedious. From the arrogance and superiority emanating from them, I believe they are the highest ranking among the