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A heavy silence fell. Mathias rubbed a hand over his face, the weight of leadership pressing down.
Gina stepped forwards, her expression hardening with purpose.
“I will take the investigation,” she said, voice firm. “I know the outer territories better than most. I’ll find who is creating these abominations and put an end to it.”
Mathias studied her for a long moment. Beneath her resolve, he could still sense the undercurrent—the Sun’s Call gnawing at her, the jealousy that had driven her recent actions. A faint hope stirred in his chest. Perhaps this responsibility will pull her focus outwards. Give her purpose again. Help her move past this crisis of the flesh before the sun claims her too.
“Do it carefully,” he said at last, nodding. “Report back before you act. We cannot afford more fractures.”
Gina inclined her head, then turned and slipped out into the hallway. Zeke lingered a moment longer, offering Mathias a steady look of quiet support before following her.
Mathias exhaled slowly and returned to Carson, gathering the warm, pliant body back into his arms. The danger was dealt with for now, but the shadows around them were deepening.
***
Carson
After the daytime attack and the desperate blood exchange that healed Mathias’ blisters, Carson’s blackouts grew longer.
He lost an entire Tuesday. One moment he was locking his apartment door; the next he was standing in the office kitchen at 3:17 p.m. with a cold cup of coffee in his hand and no memory of the intervening hours. Drew found him staring at the microwave and steered him into the small conference room.
“Something is wrong, Carson,” Drew said quietly, not unkindly. “I don’t know how to help you, but you’re destroying everything you’ve worked so hard for. Figure your shit out, man.”
Carson nodded, throat too tight to speak. He spent the rest of the afternoon researching on his laptop: vivid erotic dreams with bite marks, neck punctures that heal overnight, addictive pleasure stranger, vampire lore real cases. The search history felt like a confession. Nothing explained the golden thread he could feel tugging in his chest, or the way his body now responded to the mere memory of cool skin and a quiet voice.
That night the craving peaked. He came untouched in the shower just from replaying the last feeding, then curled up on the bathroom floor, shaking with aftershocks and self-loathing.
***
Mathias
The air had changed.
Mathias stood at the edge of the warehouse roof after he’d returned to camp from the most recent tour of their territory. The night should have felt cleaner. Instead, a thin, metallic edge lingered at the farthest reach of his senses—something that did not belong to vampire or feral. It was distant, disciplined, and patient.
Hunters.
He had not felt that particular weight in a long time. It made him very glad he’d already brought Carson to the camp for the night.
Zeke appeared at his shoulder without being called, already reading the tension in his posture. Mathias did not waste words.
“Find us options,” he ordered. “Quiet places. Far enough that a trail goes cold. Somewhere with thick walls and no history. I want three possibilities by tomorrow night.”
Zeke’s expression tightened, but he only nodded. “I’ll begin tonight.”
When Mathias returned to the lower rooms, Carson was awake and watching him. The human’s newly sharpened senses had clearly picked up the shift in mood even if he couldn’t name its source.
“Something’s wrong,” Carson said. It wasn’t a question.
Mathias sat on the edge of the cot and ran a hand through his hair. “Hunters. Human ones. They use silver and light that burns like the sun. I can feel the edge of their attention. It’s still far, but it’s focused.”
Carson pushed himself up on one elbow, eyes serious. “How do you know?”
“The same way I knew you were mine before I ever touched you. Scent. Pressure in the air. A wrongness that settles against the skin. Hunters who have killed enough of us leave a mark on a place. I haven’t felt this particular mark in years.”
Carson studied him. “What did it mean the last time?”
Mathias was quiet for a moment. “The last time, we lost two of the younger ones before we could move the camp. We ran for weeks. Changed names. Burned everything that could track us. It worked—but it cost us.” He met Carson’s eyes. “If they’re circling again, it means someone has been careless, or someone has been talking. Or they simply followed the wrong scent at the right time.”
