Page 6 of Finn (Vampire Vows #1)

CHAPTER SIX

FINN

The moment I stepped into The Claw and Fang, a pulse of wariness surged through me, settling low in my gut.

I kept my face neutral, tried to look like I belonged, but tension coiled within me.

The club was packed, crowded with supernaturals of every variety, with a few scattered humans dotting the shadows.

Neon lights flickered overhead, casting strange colors across the walls, and the relentless beat of the bass seemed to vibrate in my bones.

I did my best to avoid the flow of patrons moving around me, keeping my head down.

Even then, I felt like I stood out. Like a spark in a room full of shadows. Too bright, too… vulnerable.

I’d already sent a message to Scar, my contact, to let him know I’d arrived.

When no response came, I pulled out my phone and typed again: I’m here .

A second of hesitation, then I added, Gray jacket, black jeans, in case he needed help finding me in the crowd.

I tucked my phone away and took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Then, I caught the scent. Earthy, animalistic, wild.

I barely had time to process it before a hulking, red-haired man broke away from the crowd, making a direct line for me.

His gaze was sharp, and a jagged scar cut across his face, marking him unmistakably.

My hand inched toward the knife at my belt, a reflex I didn’t even think about.

The weapon was slim comfort in a place like this, but instinct had me reaching for it all the same.

Was this a trap?

For a fleeting second, I wondered if the Elders had set me up, arranging my death in the most inconspicuous way possible.

My heart raced, and I could feel a cold sweat breaking out along my brow.

The Guild had a way of removing hunters who crossed lines, a merciless efficiency that left no room for error or escape.

The man leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear. “You the hunter from the Guild?”

The words sent a chill down my spine, but I forced myself to answer calmly. “I am. You’re Scar?” I asked.

“That’s me.” Scar gave a grin, flashing sharp, gleaming teeth under the club’s flashing lights. “I need you to come with me.”

My stomach dropped, but I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “For what?”

“Relax, little hunter,” he said, his grin widening, every bit the predator sizing up prey. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The way he moved was almost unnervingly smooth, each step catlike, and suddenly I understood. Werelion.

The Claw and Fang was owned by Gage King, leader of the local lion pard and one of the vampires’ biggest allies.

I’d read about him in my research on Craven Hill, but it didn’t help the unease that clung to me like a second skin.

We were supposed to protect humans. That was the core tenet that had been drilled into us since our training days.

Yet here I was, caught in a contract that seemed to betray everything we stood for.

Why had the Guild accepted a contract with the werelions?

Gage King and his pard had blood on their hands, just like the vampires they claimed to be at odds with.

Accepting a job from them felt like a betrayal of our mission.

Had we really crossed that line?

Had the Guild sunk so low that they would align themselves with the very monsters we killed for a living?

I kept my hand on the knife hilt, even though I knew that using it would probably turn the whole pard against me.

One wrong move, and I’d be fighting my way out of here.

“Lead the way,” I said, keeping my voice cool.

“Good.” Scar gave me a nod, then turned, motioning for me to follow. “Keep close.”

He led me through the crowd with ease, parting the sea of people effortlessly.

We reached a door marked Private , and I followed him up a narrow, darkened staircase.

With each step, the sounds of the club below faded, replaced by the low hum of quiet conversations and the creak of floorboards.

At the top, plush VIP rooms lined the hallway. Scar stopped in front of one and ushered me inside, closing the door behind us.

The room felt insulated from the chaos below. It had plush couches, a sleek bar, and a large glass window overlooking the crowded dance floor.

I could see everything from here, yet no one could see me.

Scar poured himself a shot of whiskey, glancing my way.

“Want anything?” Sear asked.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on him. “No, I’m good.”

“Let’s get down to it,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

“Direct. I like that.” He gestured to the couch. “Sit.”

I sat, but my body stayed tense, muscles coiled and ready.

Scar took a seat across from me, swirling his drink as if this were a friendly meeting, but his eyes never lost their predatory glint.

“My boss wants a particular bloodsucker dead,” he said, his voice low. “One who goes by the name ‘Angel.’”

I gave a curt nod. “Why? What’s he done?”

Scar’s eyes gleamed, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

“That’s the question, isn’t it? Our relationship with the Nest isn’t what it used to be. Angel is Beric’s new favorite toy. You know who Beric is, right?”

I felt my pulse spike. Of course I knew.

Beric was Queen Arabella’s second-in-command. He was a powerful vampire in the Craven Hill Nest, the most dominant supernatural group in the city.

The lions were their biggest allies, so what had happened to put them at odds?

This job didn’t feel right. The Guild didn’t typically involve itself in supernatural politics.

“Why Angel?” I pressed. “If your problem is with Beric, wouldn’t it make more sense to go after him?”

Scar chuckled. “You think it’s that easy? Beric’s untouchable. Always has been. But Angel?”

Scar leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Take him out of the picture, and we weaken Beric’s power structure. Angel’s dangerous and ambitious.”

His words twisted something inside me, like a blade digging deeper.

I just needed to finish the job and get out. But something wasn’t adding up.

“So that’s it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “I kill this… Angel, and we’re all good?”

“That’s all you need to know.” Scar downed his drink, his eyes gleaming over the rim of his glass. “His real name’s Gabriel. That’s what he went by before he got turned.”

The name hit me like a fist to the gut. My heart stumbled, then started racing, each beat harder than the last.

“What… did you just say?” I asked.

Scar gave me an impatient look. “Gabriel. This fledgling you’re supposed to take out? His name was Gabriel.”

My mind blanked, my chest tightening with a pain so sharp it stole my breath. Gabriel. The one person I’d never fully let go.

The one I’d mourned, blamed myself for losing, tortured myself over. And now, the Guild had sent me here to kill him?

“Are you sure?” My voice was a whisper, barely audible over the thudding in my ears.

Scar rolled his eyes, irritation flickering across his face.

“Are you slow or something? Do we need to ask the Guild for a replacement?” Scar demanded.

I forced myself to breathe, to shove down the panic clawing its way up my throat. Gabriel wasn’t an uncommon name, I told myself.

There could be dozens of vampires named Gabriel in this city alone. But I couldn’t silence the doubt gnawing at me.

If this really was my Gabriel… the Guild would want him dead.

They’d erase every trace of his past life, silence any rumors that one of their former hunters had been turned and was now mingling with vampires.

Scar watched me, his eyes narrowing.

“If you’re hesitating, you can walk away now. I’m sure your Guild will send someone else,” Scar said.

The challenge in his gaze burned, but I forced myself to meet it.

“I’m not walking away,” I blurted.

“Good.” Scar gave a nod of approval, but I could barely register it through the storm inside me.

I tried to steady myself, clinging to the image of the job as just another target.

But the thought of hunting Gabriel, of coming face-to-face with him only to end it…

“Stay focused, little hunter. That’s the only advice I’ve got.” Scar’s voice was almost amused.

But I could hardly hear him anymore, my mind spinning.

He poured himself another drink as if it were any other night, any other mission, while my world felt like it was unraveling.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the questioning look Scar shot me.

“If that’s all, I’ll get going. I have preparations to make,” I said.

He gave me a casual wave. “Watch yourself. Beric doesn’t take kindly to anyone threatening his favorite,” Scar said.

I nodded, not trusting myself to respond, and turned to leave. I wove back through the club, each step feeling heavier than the last.

By the time I stepped out into the night air, I could barely breathe.

The city lights blurred as memories clawed their way to the surface, each one sharper, more painful than the last.

I had to know. Had to see him.

Because if Gabriel was truly alive, how could I bring myself to kill the only person I’d ever truly loved?

My mind was still a jumble of confusion, when I heard a soft, breathy moan drifting from a nearby alley.

The sound jolted me, cutting through the storm of emotions. Was someone hurt?

I pulled my knife from its sheath, gripping it tight as I moved toward the source of the noise, every nerve on edge.

As I turned the corner, I spotted two figures entwined in the shadows.

One man was holding the other, cradling him close, the movement gentle but oddly… possessive.

My cheeks burned when I realized I might’ve just interrupted something I had no business seeing.

But then, with a faint shudder, the man in the embrace slumped to the ground, his head tilting back, revealing two tiny red marks on his neck.

My stomach dropped. Vampire.

The other figure shifted, turning slightly, and that’s when I caught sight of his face.

Familiar features, sharper than before but unmistakable. Blue-green eyes met mine, their confusion flashing quickly to shock.

His gaze pinned me where I stood, and in that moment, I felt like the ground was yanked out from under me.

“Gabriel,” I whispered, barely aware that the word had escaped my lips.

It was him. The same Gabriel I’d once held, loved, mourned. The one I’d thought was lost to me forever.

And here he was, standing right in front of me, every bit as real as he’d been in my memories. But he was changed in ways I could hardly comprehend.

I stumbled back, gripping my knife tighter, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

The Elders had really sent me here to kill this vampire. To kill him.

The weight of it crashed over me like a tidal wave, nearly stealing the breath from my lungs.

Gabriel's expression shifted, morphing from shock to something darker, a wary recognition mingling with a spark of something else, something dangerous.

His lips parted, and I watched as he took a cautious step forward, his eyes flickering over me, scanning my face as if searching for answers.

“Finn?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the night like a knife.

Hearing him say my name sent a shiver down my spine, stirring memories that were at once comforting and painful.

My whole body tensed, the blade in my hand feeling like dead weight.

I’d come here to finish a job, but now… now I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know if I wanted to.

“Gabriel,” I repeated, as if saying it aloud would make it all make sense. “They… they told me you were dead.”

His face softened, if only for a second, and I caught a glimpse of the Gabriel I’d once known.

“I was,” he murmured, a hollow note threading his voice. “In a way, I suppose I still am.”

The silence hung between us, thick and heavy, as if we were standing on either side of a chasm.

Gabriel glanced down, his jaw tightening as he seemed to wrestle with whatever emotions were clawing at him.

“This can’t be real,” I whispered, shaking my head, anger and disbelief warring within me. “They sent me here to kill someone they called Angel. They didn’t tell me it was… you.”

Gabriel’s expression twisted with something unreadable, a flicker of bitterness maybe, or regret.

“That’s what Beric likes to call me.” Gabriel tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smile that held no warmth. “Guess I must have really pissed the Elders off if they’re sending you after me.”

“Don’t joke about this.” My voice cracked, the edge of desperation bleeding through. “You don’t understand what this means. The Elders… they’ll kill us both if they know I’m hesitating. If they knew you were even still…”

Alive. The word felt wrong, even though he was standing there, looking every bit like the man I’d loved, the man I still?—

He took another step forward, eyes softening as he met my gaze.

“Finn… I didn’t choose this. I was as good as dead when Beric found me. I’m not a monster by choice,” Gabriel said.

I felt myself wavering, the knife trembling in my grip as I fought against the instinct to reach out to him, to take his hand, to hold onto some part of him.

But the job was screaming in the back of my mind, drowning out everything else with a single, merciless truth.

I was supposed to kill him .

“I can’t…” My voice broke, and I looked away, trying to gather myself. “I can’t do this, Gabriel. I mourned you, for crying out loud. Now they want me to finish the job?”

He closed the distance between us, close enough now that I could feel the chill of his presence, even as his gaze softened.

“Then don’t.” His voice was quiet, almost pleading. “Walk away, Finn. Pretend you didn’t see me.”

“Walk away?” I shook my head, incredulous. “If I go back empty-handed, they’ll know something went wrong. They’ll keep sending hunters until you’re dead for good.”

Gabriel’s eyes held mine, a battle of emotions raging behind that blue-green intensity.

He reached out slowly, his hand ghosting near mine as if asking for permission to bridge the gap.

I didn’t pull away when his cold fingers brushed mine.

"Then let them come," he said, his voice fierce, something feral and wild flickering in his eyes. "I'll get rid of all of them."

I closed my eyes, fighting against the flood of emotions breaking through the walls I'd tried so hard to keep up.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from his touch and ran, leaving him behind like the coward I was.