Page 58 of Vampire Runner

EPILOGUE

Malachi

Ineed a damn drink. A proper one. And yet, I’m here at Noir because I promised Ambrose I would keep an eye on the place while he and Eloise are off on some romantic vacation.

Hell, now that Cassandra is back, I’m the last single male of the inner circle. Shame twists my guts. The last one if I don’t take Rhys and Ezra into account. Which seeing as Rhys fucked off with a wild Ezra without so much of a heads-up, I don’t.

The fast music, heavy with base, from the dance floor spills into the quieter front bar of the place. Even as I walk through the bar, packed with a surprisingly large crowd on a weekday evening, it’s like everywhere I look are couples. Everyone seems to have someone else to be with and it just pisses me off even more after the day I had.

This restaurant has become such a headache, I’m beginning to wonder if it was a bad idea. I’ve grown bored, though. With the modern world, Ambrose doesn’t need me and my skills as his general as much. Helping Cassandra and Ashe take on Aeternaphiel was the closest thing to a real battle we’ve had in decades. Ever since Ambrose brokered a peace deal with the demons, the Barrows have been settled. Sure, there’ve been some scuffles between various packs or a few upstarts need to be reminded of the proper hierarchy.

After years of strife, of leading men and women into battles, countless injuries and losing friends, I’d never expect to feel this way. I remember longing for a peace like this, longing to just be able to rest and not think about when the next attack might be.

I’m such a fucking asshole for being bored when everyone around me is settling down and getting to enjoy some peace.

Two males yank me out of my brooding as they face off at the bar, squaring up on one another. Finally. Something to actually do, other than walk around and look intimidating. One of the males, a tall, lanky pretty boy facing off with one just as pretty, goes to throw a punch. Except then one of the vampire security guards I’ve assigned to Noir is already there, getting between them.

The fight stops before it even begins. I’m left with an all too familiar restlessness. I won’t do anyone any favors sticking around. The guard who’s broken up the fight starts herding them to the entrance, his golden eyes meeting mine. I nod in approval, and the man returns it. It’s not fair for me to be pissed at a man doing the job I gave him.

My men have Noir well in hand. There’s really no reason for me to be here.

I head towards the door that leads up to Ambrose’s office, ignoring the interested smiles women throw my way. It used to be I’d happily take a woman up on the silent offer and spend a night of mutually beneficial debauchery. Except along with peace, sex isn’t... it just isn’t doing it for me. Not that I’d dare let any of my brothers know. If they knew I haven’t actually fucked a woman in the last three months, they’d make Cassandra search me for curses.

I push open the heavy door, slipping into the stairwell and leaving the club behind. I bypass Ambrose’s empty office and the hall that’ll take me out of the building. Instead, I head up the rarely used roof access.

As I walk onto the roof, the cool air is heavy with the promise of rain. The sun set hours ago and clouds have blocked out the moon. Tension slips from my shoulders and spine as I tilt my head back, letting the city around me wrap me in its embrace. Discordant sounds blend together in a nightmare symphony. Cars driving and honking at one another. People hurrying along Blood Street, humans and paranormal alike. Street vendors and performers are slowly returning to the sidewalks as winter turns to summer in the city. It’ll only be a matter of weeks until the sounds are twice as overwhelming, twice as demanding.

It doesn’t matter that the sky is dark, the Barrows glows with its own lights. An aurora of reds, greens, yellows, all shifting and waving as the city thrums with the life that only comes out at night.

In the distance, across the river, is Topside—Newgate. Top of the river. The city where humans tried to establish their own settlement without us lesser beings. A city where they can ignore our existence, until they can’t fight the temptations of the pleasure we offer. We make sure they pay handsomely for the experience.

Topside. Where I’m opening my restaurant and burlesque theater at the top of one of the tallest buildings. We’ve always had our people Topside, sending their secrets and plans to Ambrose through the shadows. With this restaurant though, the Nightshades will have an official foothold in the city that once refused to grant us access.

I argued for this opportunity. I did my research, found potential locations, vendors, and anything else I could imagine might sway Ambrose to my side. When he agreed, he only had one condition. To not fuck this up and tarnish the Nightshades’ reputation.

And here I am, seeking refuge on the roof of Noir, because it’s only been one problem after another, with no fighting or fucking to take the edge off.

I haven’t even come up with a goddamn name for the place yet, and we’re supposed to have the soft opening in three months.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter to myself. Then I shake the wallowing thoughts from my head. I’ve been alive for five hundred years. I’m too damn old to be pulling this bullshit.

I stride to the side of the building, stepping up onto the ledge. The wind is stronger here, catching my unbuttoned suit jacket and making it whip and jerk out behind me. It’s the warning of a worse storm, one promising to deluge the city within the hour. Below me, people walk closer together but don’t yet seek out shelter.

One figure, a woman, walks alone though. I watch her, like one would watch an insect as it makes its way along a tree branch. She’s not dressed for the weather, in a dress meant more for sunny days with its fluttering skirt and cheerful yellow flowers.

Intrigued, and with frankly nothing better to do, I walk parallel to her, easily leaping across the narrow allies. She’s holding her purse tight to her stomach, staring at something on her phone, occasionally looking up as if searching for someone.

It seems I’m not the only one who’s found interest in the human woman, as I realize the three males twenty feet or so behind her are following her. Stalking her, more like, considering I can scent their wolf forms from her. Looking ahead of the woman, the busy part of Blood Street ends at a crossroad, the rest of the street growing dark with closed businesses.

She pauses at the end of the sidewalk, not venturing across the crosswalk just yet. The road is clear, so maybe she does have some sense of self-preservation.

I move to the corner edge of the building’s roof I’m on, propping one foot up on the ledge. I consider intervening as the wolf trio finally catches up to her. I tilt my head and listen. My enhanced hearing makes it easy to follow their exchange despite the growing storm.

“Are you lost, pup?” the tallest one asks, a smile on his face. He must be the leader. The other two males smirk and rib each other, maneuvering around to her other side without her noticing at first. It’s clear the moment she does, as her shoulders tighten.

“No,” she answers, glaring at the leader. “I’m waiting for someone, actually. They should be here soon.”

“Oh, yeah?” One of the others asks and makes a show of looking around. This close to the end of Blood Street doesn’t get much foot traffic; most clients of the surrounding establishments don’t want to be caught lingering in front of them. “Pretty shitty to leave a pretty girl like you alone.”