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I wiped the spittle away with my sleeve, then drove my fist into his stomach. The impact rattled the ancient chain. “That was just a warm-up. I can do this all night.”

Adrian’s laugh was hoarse. “You’re pathetic, Black. Trying to play sheriff with your fabricated authority. Trying to force us to repress who we are. We know what you did to Eliza. How you slaughtered her, just because she dared to touch your human pet—”

I seized his right hand, snapping his index finger backward until it cracked. His scream echoed off the wooden beams. But then Adrian’s pained expression morphed into a smirk as the bones began knitting themselves back together.

Fucking vampire healing. Always so inconvenient when trying to make a point.

“I can see you need something a bit more…” I reached for the blade at my hip. “Permanent.” The dagger glinted in the dim light as I brought it down, severing the finger at the knuckle.

This time, his scream held no trace of smugness.

Adrian’s blood poured onto the floorboards as the severed finger twitched, a macabre reminder of vampire biology’s persistence.

“Boss.” Rory pulled a lighter from his jeans, the flame dancing to life with a metallic click. “Allow me?”

I nodded, maintaining my grip on Adrian as Rory pressed the flame against the bleeding stump—the cauterisation would prevent any chance of the finger being reattached later, or regenerating. The sizzle of burning flesh mixed with Adrian’s renewed screams soon filled the tiny space.

“Well then. Shall we continue talking? Or am I moving on to the other nine fingers? Tell me why your clan is working with the cambion who calls himself Damien.”

Adrian’s laughter turned to whimpers as I bent back another finger. But he still managed to seethe, “You think pain will make me betray Marcus?”

“Everyone breaks eventually.” I studied his face, noting the fierce loyalty in his eyes despite the agony. “Though you seem particularly devoted to him.”

“He saved me.” The words carried a zealot’s conviction. “When everyone else abandoned me, Marcus gave me purpose. If you harm me further…” His lips curled into a bloody smile. “The consequences would be severe. I’m special to him.”

I stepped back, considering this new information. Marcus Vale was not known for forming attachments to his subordinates. But if Adrian really held such significance…

“You have no idea what Marcus would do if—”

“Actually,” I cut him off, turning to Rory. “You could be right. This might be a 410 situation.”

Rory’s face lit up with savage delight. “Oh, brilliant!”

Kit’s low growl suggested approval .

I faced Adrian again, whose bravado had faltered. “If you’re so precious to Marcus, then surely he’d be willing to trade for your life.”

Adrian’s eyes widened with understanding.

“A simple exchange.” I gripped his jaw. “Your continued existence for delivery of the cambion who calls himself Damien.”

The calculation was clear—with Flynn having mere days on the clock, I needed leverage. Marcus Vale might despise me, might rally against my methods… but perhaps he was loyal to his devoted flock. Time would tell.

Adrian thrashed against his chains. “You’re making a mistake—”

“The only mistake,” I said. “Was allowing Vale to operate unchecked for so long. That ends tonight.”

“This is suicide,” Adrian spat. “Marcus will tear you apart. He’s stronger than you know!”

“Your concern is touching.” I straightened my coat. “But I’ve dealt with far worse than Vale.”

I pulled out my phone, and jammed Priya’s contact before barking, “Peacock? Bring a van as close to my location as you can.” Next was Felix. “Magpie, prepare room 410,” I instructed, before sliding my phone away.

“God, I love it when you get all authoritative like this.” Rory bounced on his heels. “Makes me feel all tingly inside. Like watching a stern headmaster during assembly.”

Kit’s wolf form made a choking sound that might have been laughter.

“Rory.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Your schoolboy fantasies are not appropriate right now.”

“Whatever you say, Daddy .”

“I swear, I will throw you off this windmill—”

“Careful now. Flynn might not like you manhandling other men.”

A grey blur catapulted through the air as Kit knocked Rory flat on his back with a thud that echoed through the windmill’s beams. Rory squirmed beneath him, laughing breathlessly.

I leaned against the wall, watching them wrestle while our prisoner stared, bewildered. Sometimes I questioned my life choices. Five centuries, and here I was, supervising what essentially amounted to supernatural children.

White had promised me a professional operation when she’d offered me Killigrew Street. Instead, I had a hyperactive wolf with inappropriate jokes, his grumpy brother, a tech genius getting sassier by the minute, and a Gifted witch operating on tea and sarcasm.

And yet… they were mine. My ridiculous, dysfunctional family.

Rory finally managed to wiggle free, his hair full of dust and wolf fur. “Ha! Victory is mine!”

Kit’s tail wagged once.

I sighed heavily. “If you two are quite finished, we have a vampire to knock out.”