Page 5 of Finn (Vampire Vows #1)

CHAPTER FIVE

GAbrIEL

The door creaked open to reveal an ostentatious, over-the-top room. The walls were draped in velvet and a chandelier casting a dim, ghostly light.

Beric was seated in an armchair that looked more like a throne.

He gestured for me to approach, his eyes gleaming with the quiet malice of a predator who’d already decided on his prey.

“Gabriel,” he greeted, his voice a smooth purr that belied the razor-sharp glint in his eyes. “It seems you’ve had a… lively start of the evening with Gael.”

I inclined my head, choosing my words carefully.

“He was eager for some exercise,” I answered.

Beric’s mouth quirked in amusement, though his gaze remained cold.

“Eager, yes, and perhaps just a touch resentful. Though, I can’t fault him for that. You’ve taken quite the shine to our queen’s court, haven’t you?”

He said it with a practiced casualness, but I knew better.

“I serve at your pleasure,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

I could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he were peeling back layers of my skin to see the motives beneath.

Beric leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin.

“Tell me, Gabriel… do you miss it?” His voice was a silken trap, pulling at something I’d tried to bury.

“Miss what?” I asked, but my voice had betrayed me, wavering ever so slightly.

He could sense it, my weakness. My hunger for a life I’d once known, a life with a heartbeat.

“The world of the living,” he answered, almost tenderly, his gaze probing. “You were so… emotional when you first arrived here. How are you finding it now?”

“Emotional” was not a word I’d have chosen.

To ensure his fledglings’ unwavering loyalty, Beric would break us down until we were nothing, and only when he deemed us fully shattered would he rebuild us.

I didn’t miss our time in his dungeons one bit.

I kept my face blank, but the memories were clawing their way to the surface, memories of warmth and sunlight, of a boy who had trusted me despite the darkness within me.

Memories of Finn.

“It’s fading,” I lied, hoping he’d let it drop. “That life feels… distant now.”

Beric’s gaze lingered, searching for cracks. After a moment, he leaned back, satisfied. For now.

“Good,” he said. “Sentimentality is a disease among our kind. Remember that.”

"Can I do something for you, Master?" I asked.

The way Beric’s eyes gleamed at the title said everything. He loved it when I called him that, loved the power it represented.

The old me would have cringed at the thought, might have been consumed with shame, but pride was a luxury I’d discarded long ago.

To survive in this new world, I would use any weapon, any tactic, to keep Beric’s favor. Even if it meant swallowing every last piece of myself.

For what? a dark voice within me murmured. What reason do you keep living? But I silenced it, as I always did.

“There’s trouble brewing tonight at Gage’s club. I want you and Bram to keep the peace,” Beric said, his tone dismissive, but I was aware he was watching me intently.

I met his stare, keeping my expression neutral.

“Understood. I’ll inform Bram, and we’ll head to the club immediately,” I replied.

"Don't fail me, angel ," he said, lingering on the nickname with a smug satisfaction.

I hated the pet name.

He knew that. I kept my face blank, pretending the name was no more than a word, but Beric could sense even the faintest shift in me.

He always did. I forced my body to stay relaxed, but inside, tension coiled like a spring.

The last thing I needed was a reminder of just how much Beric enjoyed twisting me up inside, just how closely he watched for every little crack.

Beric would snap me in two if he ever sensed that I might break free, but he'd do it so slowly, so carefully, that it would feel like I was crumbling by my own hand.

I offered him one more nod and turned to leave, hiding the resentment and hatred boiling just beneath my skin.

As I left his quarters, I pulled my shoulders back, readying myself for the task ahead.

Gage King, the local werelion alpha, was powerful and ruthless, ruling over the city’s most dominant shifter group.

His pard was allied with the Craven Hill nest, but that alliance was often as turbulent as it was beneficial.

Tensions simmered under the surface, and Beric sent me to keep the peace with Gage almost as if he relished the idea of throwing me to the lions.

I headed down the hall to find Bram, who would be my partner tonight.

The vampiric enforcer was as cold and silent as a shadow, as deadly as he was unyielding.

In this place, he was as close to an ally as I could get, though “ally” was a stretch.

Bram had been at Beric’s side far longer than I had, had seen his fair share of ambitious fledglings come and go. He’d probably disposed of most of the failures himself.

When I entered his quarters, he glanced up, his ice-gray eyes flicking over me.

“Beric’s orders,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Potential trouble at Gage’s club tonight. He wants us there to manage it.”

Bram studied me for a beat, his face expressionless.

“More babysitting,” he said dryly, though there was a glint of approval. “Let’s hope the cats play nice.”

"Let’s hope," I echoed, though we both knew that was unlikely.

The city streets were quiet as we set off, darkness clinging to every corner. I kept my senses sharp, my eyes scanning every shadow.

Even as I focused on the path ahead, that question gnawed at me, the one I’d pushed away earlier.

What was I holding onto? What was left of the old Gabriel that still kept me tethered to this existence?

Every once in a while, in moments like these, I let my guard slip just enough to remember.

I saw a flash of Finn's face, that boyish grin that had once been so full of trust.

I hadn’t seen him in years, hadn’t been that version of myself in years.

I wondered if Finn would even recognize me now. If he knew the things I had done in Beric’s name, the blood I’d spilled.

Beric had turned me into something Finn would never understand, and that thought haunted me more than the monsters around me ever could.

I forced myself to focus as we arrived at Gage's club, an upscale, glass-walled monstrosity on the edge of downtown.

Shifters crowded inside, the scent of their raw energy and barely suppressed aggression thick in the air.

A part of me bristled at the scent of blood and sweat, but I pushed it down, scanning the crowd for any sign of unrest.

Bram was silent beside me, a chilling presence that somehow settled my nerves. At least he was predictable.

Then I saw Gage himself, a towering figure with piercing amber eyes that fixed on us the moment we entered.

He moved through the crowd like a predator, his gaze zeroing in on us.

Despite the human guise, there was an unmistakable animal edge to him.

As he approached, his smirk was enough to tell me he was expecting us.

“Gabriel, Bram,” he said smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement. “I heard Beric was sending some of his favorites.”

“Just here to keep the peace,” I said coolly, meeting his gaze without a hint of the unease that had coiled in my stomach.

Gage’s eyes flicked between Bram and me, lingering just long enough to remind us we were in his territory.

“Is that so?” Gage’s voice was all feigned innocence, but his gaze was calculating, sharp as a blade. “Well, my boys are always peaceful.”

Gage chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

His words sounded friendly, but the tension in the room spiked, the energy tightening around us like a noose.

When neither Bram nor I responded, Gage shrugged with a sly grin, hands slipping into the pockets of his tailored jacket.

“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” he drawled, his tone mocking and almost lazy. “I have business to attend to.”

He looked between us one last time, a silent reminder of whose territory we stood in, before melting back into the crowd.

Bram and I exchanged a glance, silent communication passing between us.

He tilted his head toward the left side of the room, indicating he’d start there.

We both knew these crowds were notorious for stirring up trouble, and it was easier to control the situation if we split up and swept each side of the floor.

I gave him a curt nod, and he moved off, cutting a straight, efficient line through the masses, his presence as cold as a knife’s edge.

I, on the other hand, worked my way through more slowly, scanning faces, noting anyone who seemed particularly volatile.

My path drew occasional glances, too many of which lingered with something suggestive.

Offers came my way. Whispered propositions that hung in the air, fingers trailing across my arm or grazing against my shoulder.

But I turned them all down with polite nods or carefully worded rejections.

I’d learned long ago that the best way to navigate situations like this was to keep a soft touch, keep them entertained without giving in to anything.

After all, here I was still Beric’s creature. If I wanted to survive, that would have to be enough.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Or at least, I thought I did.

Time stilled as my gaze zeroed in on a figure standing across the room.

He was half-hidden in shadow, but I’d know that posture, that face.

Finn. It couldn’t be, and yet…

My mind flashed back to another time, years ago now, when I’d last seen him.

The Finn I knew had been raw and open, that unguarded smile that he wore so easily. A smile that had once been just for me.

The memory stirred a painful longing in me, a hunger that wouldn’t ever really go away.

I’d buried it as best I could, buried it beneath the layers of who Beric had forced me to become.

But here, in this moment, the memories surged back, and I found myself moving through the crowd as if in a trance, ignoring everything else around me.

I pushed past shifters and vampires alike, barely noticing their looks or complaints.

The crowd shifted around me, lights flashing, shadows deepening, and that’s when I lost sight of him.

I stopped dead, scanning the sea of faces, but Finn was gone.

Or maybe he’d never been there at all.

It could have been a trick of the mind, a stray memory twisted into something solid by an undead heart that wanted to believe.

But I couldn’t shake it. Even as I stood there, scanning the room, a hollow ache spread through me. Finn would never be here.

I took a deep, unnecessary breath, steadying myself.

Whatever piece of me still longed for Finn, for that life, was just that, a piece.

It didn’t rule me, not anymore. Beric had made sure of that.