Page 97 of Bonds of Starfall

She couldn’t help the insane thought that rose.Edenville had a population of ninety-three now.

It was so unlike her that a laugh bubbled up in her chest.

Cyrus looked over at her fondly. "Your laugh is so pretty. Like bells." He rested his cheek on his knees, where they were tugged up to his chest. "What are you thinking about, doll?"

"Nothing. Just how you might be rubbing off on me." Rin smiled softly, and a pang of longing filled her as the lonely streets passed by. "I wish I remembered," she said suddenly, voice thick, "our past life."

"What do you want to know?" he mumbled around the straw.

"Everything," Rin breathed. "But tell me something good."

And so, he did.

As they drove to Lunar City, the incubus—her Soulbond, if he was to be believed, who had killed for her—spoke in a low, sultry tone, like silk over her skin.

He told her how she had padded barefoot to the balcony, in a robe spun of satin, drinking tea made from sugar rocks as she watched the sun rise over the waves. And he shared with her that he would sit at the wooden kitchen table, content to watch her instead of the sunrise.

Because you’re far more beautiful than the sky could ever wish to be.

When a gleaming metal welcome sign flashed by, buildings grew denser, streets teeming—no Rogue in sight, light cutting through the hazy city—Rin felt her throat tighten.

They were here.

Rhyden Valkar was rippedfrom sleep as a loud beeping sound filled the control room.

The vampire ran a ring-clad hand through his messy white hair, squinting at the screens before him.

Low light glowed from nearly a hundred grainy monitors scattered before him—lonely streets, bustling clubs, and basement rooms.

Hiscity.

Lunar City.

Rhyden leaned forward, nearly knocking the mug of blood over in his haste to shut off the goddamned beeping sound. He eyed the cup, grabbing it and taking a long drink. Cold and slightly congealed. How long had he been asleep?

Dammit.

Grimacing, he set the mug down and flicked through the blue-scale images at an inhuman pace.

There. Rhyden paused over an image, brows furrowing.

"The Aether detector," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

He’d been run ragged, hunting the fuckers who had been abducting Aetherborns, trying to find them before they were taken, using illegal Stella-sensers to detect unique Aetherborn energy signatures—allowing them to be found whenever they came into Lunar City.

Rhyden was a fucking crime lord, boss of this cesspool of sin, but goddamn it, he wouldn’t let innocents be taken for whatever twisted purpose.

The small red warning lights flashed on the screen, and he clicked over it, the blocky letters popping up:

Aetherborn detected. 1107 Scourge St. Block 4.

Scourge Street. That was in the fucking slums. Dangerous. The underground flesh markets there traded in all types of species, dead… or alive.

Rhyden enlarged the image, finding the flickering sign of Scourge Motel, hazy from the graphics. He zoomed in further, seeing two figures shrouded in darkness hurry underneath the sign, until they disappeared inside.

He leaned in… a little more.

Rewound it in bursts, finding the perfect moment, and there?—