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Maxwell cleared his throat. “If I could continue—”

“By all means, Detective.” Seb’s voice dripped with politeness.

“The cause of death appears to be extreme blood loss.” Maxwell gestured to the screen. “Multiple lacerations across the torso and neck—”

“Some inflicted by conventional weapons,” Seb interrupted again, clicking to zoom in on particular wounds.

The images showed clean, precise cuts—surgical almost—alongside savage, jagged tears where flesh had been ripped away.

Dark bruising bloomed around the edges of the deeper gashes. “But others—”

“Show clear evidence of vampire feeding,” Maxwell finished, shooting Seb a look. “Including significant trauma to the neck area where tissue was… forcefully removed.”

My eyes fixed on the grotesque images. The torn flesh, the ragged edges where teeth had… I swallowed hard, Seb’s words echoing in my head: Would you want to risk that? Risk dying in my bed while I feast on your blood like some rabid animal?

My hand drifted unconsciously to my own neck. The pain must have been excruciating—being torn into like that, feeling fangs rip through muscle and sinew while still conscious.

A wave of nausea rolled through me. The worst part wasn’t even the violence itself, but the terror he must have felt in those final moments.

I felt Seb’s gaze on me, watching, assessing my reaction to this display of vampire violence. Did he expect this image to scare me off? I kept my expression carefully neutral, though I couldn’t stop my heart hammering against my ribs.

“We’ve moved the body to a secure location for further examination, off-record,” Maxwell continued, clicking to the next slide. “Our DIY search found a strand of hair at the scene—it’s being rushed through the lab now. We also lifted several partial fingerprints from the car.”

“The blood supply he was meant to deliver to me was missing from his car,” Seb added, his voice tight with anger. “Ten bags or so, gone.”

Priya leaned forward, her braid sliding over her shoulder. “Could the primary motive have been obtaining the blood bags?”

“More likely it’s a vampire who doesn’t believe in drinking bagged blood.” Seb’s words carried a weight that made my skin prickle. “Someone who considers it… beneath them.”

“We’re done being controlled by you, Black!”

Eliza’s words crashed over me like a deadly wave. I could almost feel her nails digging into my throat again, the weight of her pinning me against the concrete. The images of Greaves’s mutilated body seemed to blur with my memories of that night, of watching Seb tear the vampire apart to save me.

Maxwell’s gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a prickle down my spine. His eyes seemed to widen in surprise before he quickly turned away, clearing his throat. “The violence suggests multiple attackers. The varying types of wounds—”

“Attackers who wanted to send a message,” Seb cut in, his dark eyes fixed on the projection.

“Indeed.”

Seb remained quite still, and my gaze snagged on his black skinny tie tucked into his waistcoat.

I couldn’t help but remember how he felt in my bed last night, his body pressed against mine, cool but inviting.

My fingers had traced patterns through the light dusting of hair across his chest, marvelling at how soft his skin felt despite its temperature.

“You’re perfection,” he’d said. “Tell me—would you rather feel me deep inside you, or bury yourself within me?”

Fuck, the things those words had done to me.

A hollow ache, so deep I could taste it, threatened to swallow me whole. Last night, Seb’s voice alone had led to the most intense orgasm of my life, followed by hours of gentle touches.

Now I wondered if that’s all we’d ever be—a collection of moments that would never quite become real.

Here he stood, discussing murder, when just hours ago we’d been a tangled mess of limbs. No wonder he was hesitant to let me close. Every happy moment must feel like borrowed time when you’re immortal—each touch a reminder of what you can’t keep.

The ghost of his kiss still lingered in my hair, and I softly touched it. How many other kisses had he given that had faded into time like this one would?

The projector cast harsh shadows across his face. In the fluorescent light, he looked otherworldly—beautiful and untouchable. A creature caught between life and death, past and present, loneliness and connection .

Something stirred in my chest, wanting to ease his darkness. Last night, I’d glimpsed a vulnerable Seb, almost human. I wanted to be the one who helped him forget about blood and violence. To show him immortality didn’t have to mean solitude.

Our eyes met across the basement. Something soft flickered in his expression before vanishing.

Seb cleared this throat, turning back to the screen. “This morning, we reviewed CCTV of the streets surrounding the hospital.” He paused, and the air in the room grew thick with anticipation. “And we saw… this.”

His finger tapped the laptop touchpad. Grainy footage filled the screen—three figures walking down a dimly lit street, their backs to the camera.

Seb stared at the footage like it held all the answers to the universe. I glanced between the others, but they seemed clueless. “This is them on their way to attack Greaves.”

Another tap. “And this is them on their way back.”

The new footage froze, and Seb zoomed in on their faces. My stomach plummeted.

A woman, her chin stained dark with what could only be blood. Next to her, a muscular man with close-cropped hair.

But the third face—I knew those features. That smile I’d thought charming, but now seemed cruel. The same face that had leered at me across the bar at Wilde Card, that had pinned me against the alley wall.

Damien.

My coffee cup slipped from my fingers, hitting the carpet with a dull thud.

Freddy leapt from Rory’s shoulders, his bony form diving for the spilled coffee. The zombie ferret’s yellow eyes glowed as he lapped at the puddle.

“Ahh fuck, he’s not allowed caffeine!” Rory exclaimed. “He goes mental on it!”

“Sorry,” I offered meekly, heat rising to my cheeks .

Seb’s expression shifted from stern to concerned in an instant. “Are you alright?” His dark eyes searched my face. “I should have warned you about—” He gestured at the frozen image of Damien on screen, frustration evident in the set of his jaw.

“No, really, it’s fine.” I forced a smile, though my hands still trembled slightly. “Just… surprised. To see his face.”

“This was completely inconsiderate of me.” Seb took half a step toward me, then seemed to catch himself, aware of our audience. I couldn’t help but notice the others exchanging looks— Priya’s eyebrows raised significantly, then Rory smirked into his coffee cup.

I attempted to pull my face into a neutral, impassive, I’m-not-having-a-breakdown-and-Seb-didn’t-spend-the-night-in-my-bed look.

“As I was saying, our two cases appear to be connected,” Seb said. “These two are from Marcus Vale’s clan. This cambion is evidently working with them.”

Kit shifted forward, frowning. “That’s unusual. They don’t typically submit to vampire control.”

“Precisely.” Seb’s fingers drummed against the laptop. “I’m not convinced we have the full picture here.”

“Ooh, is your bat sense tingling again?” Rory shot him a beaming grin.

DI Maxwell made a small, exasperated sound, which made Rory’s face fall as fast as a thunderclap.

Seb didn’t look at either of them, continuing, “This doesn’t add up. Vampires wouldn’t send a lesser demon to incubate dark magic within humans—they can’t harvest that kind of power themselves. It would be pointless. There must be someone or some thing else at play here.”

Though it was all beyond my understanding, this revelation seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications. Even Freddy paused his coffee lapping to stare up at us, whiskers twitching.

Seb’s expression hardened as he clicked off the projector. “Given these developments, gathering intelligence becomes our absolute priority. All other cases will be temporarily suspended.”

My stomach churned, the air disappearing from the room.

“They knew Greaves’s schedule,” Seb continued. “They’ve been watching our movements, our patterns. They knew exactly when to strike.” His eyes flickered to me briefly before returning to address the room. “We need to implement additional security measures immediately.”

Kit nodded stiffly. “We should rotate patrol schedules, change our routes. Maybe set up false patterns to throw them off. Plant some misinformation.”

“We need to act as if they’re always watching,” Seb said hollowly. “Every move. Every contact.” His dark eyes swept the room. “They’re waiting for one mistake. One error, one moment of weakness—that’s all they need to destroy everything we’ve built.”

The tension was suffocating. Priya shifted uncomfortably, her usual brightness flickering like a struggling candle. “Well,” she said, attempting a light tone that didn’t quite land. “We could always circle back to using Flynn as demon bait—”

“This is not the time, Priya!” Seb’s voice cracked like a whip, making me flinch. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Flynn’s life is quite literally hanging in the balance. I won’t have you making light of—”

“I’m sorry,” Priya cut in quietly, her playful demeanour vanishing. She turned to me, genuine remorse in her eyes. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“But the mood shouldn’t be light!” Seb snapped, and even DI Maxwell, who’d shrunk back slightly, nodded. “This is a serious matter, and will be taken as such.”

“Of course. Flynn, I apologise.”

I wanted to say I wasn’t fragile, but couldn’t speak. Because I was terrified. These vampires had torn someone apart, days after Eliza’s attack. They were watching Seb, watching all of us, waiting to strike.

And they were working with the demon who’d marked me?

Kit cleared his throat. “You said Eliza meant to kill Flynn. But that suggests she didn’t know about Damien’s mark? ”