Page 39 of Grim’s Delight (The New Protectorate Syndicate #1)

A sense of overwhelming loneliness crushed her — an unmooring that left her aching for home, for the scent of caramel and smoke and soft fingers in her hair. Shoulders rounding, she clutched her ticket in one clammy fist and wrapped her arms around her middle like it could help keep her together.

What am I even doing?

She didn’t know how to survive as a vampire. There hadn’t even been a thought about whether she’d be out after sunrise. She didn’t know what synth to buy or how to sunproof windows or anything.

And worst of all was the fact that everything in her screamed to go back to Felix. He wouldn’t just know what to do. He’d teach her how to fend for herself. He’d tell her she could handle it, and then he’d hold her close anyway, not because she was fragile, but because he liked having her near.

All she had to do was trade her freedom for comfort.

What kind of thinking is that? I can’t willingly go back to a cage just because I’m scared. I’m tougher than that.

Dahlia didn’t feel tough, though. Her body ached. She was cold. Her stomach was beginning to rumble again, despite the full meal Felix had given her, and a future full of unknowns yawned before her.

New York was as foreign to her as United Washington.

There was nothing for her there except distance.

Gods knew how long that would last, though.

It occurred to her that Felix and Alastair might not be the only threats on the horizon.

New York could’ve been full of vampires like Devon.

She had no idea how far the syndicate’s tentacles really spread.

Hopelessness threatened to squeeze the life out of her. It was a lucky thing that someone chose that moment to settle down beside her on the bench, not quite touching but close enough to draw her attention.

A smooth bass voice said, “Next time you decide to run, you should take a cab out of the city, then a train. And pay with cash.”

Dahlia’s head snapped up. Sitting beside her was a beautiful man with deep gold skin.

He was dressed in a half untucked black button down and dark pants.

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms — one of which was splashed with a distinctive tattoo of a bloody wave.

His hair and matching beard were dark except for a streak of white that passed through both.

Amauri.

The man’s eyes creased with a knowing smile as she recoiled. At any other time she would’ve found him disarmingly attractive, but now the twinkle in his eyes seemed more menacing than friendly.

He held out one great, callused mitt. “I’m Luis. You must be the famous Dahlia. My brother had a lot to say about you.”

Her first instinct was to run, but even as her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for an escape route, she knew it was pointless. He’d catch her in a second.

That didn’t mean she had to shake his hand, though. Staring straight ahead, she bit out, “I don’t know who your brother is.”

He dropped his hand, but nothing in his tone suggested he’d taken offense to her snub. “That’d be Milo. He was in Felix’s office earlier when you came in like a demon on the warpath. We don’t look too much alike, so it makes sense you wouldn’t see the resemblance. I’m way more handsome.”

Dahlia grunted. The truth was that she’d barely noticed there was another person in the room when she barged into Felix’s office.

The world had a way of narrowing to a pinpoint when he was around.

Sometimes it was because he made her so mad she couldn’t focus on anything else, but mostly it was because he was just… him.

“So…” Luis leaned his elbows onto his knees and looked around the terminal. “What was the plan here, sugar?”

“Does it matter? You’re just gonna drag me back to Felix anyway.” She wanted to be angrier about that. Some part of her was, but an even louder part was shamefully relieved.

I get to go home, that pitiful part of her sighed. Thank the gods.

“It matters. I’ve got to know why you ran so we can make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“You going to put bars on the windows?”

Luis snorted. “I knew it was a window. There was no way you could’ve gotten out of a door unseen.

” He didn’t sound annoyed. Instead, he appeared more amused than anything.

“Ballsy. But if you hurt yourself, don’t come crying to me when Felix is a terror.

Speaking of — you realize how dangerous it is for you to be out at this time, right?

You’re freshly turned, sugar. Sun sickness could actually kill you. ”

She wasn’t sure what compelled her to admit the truth to him. Maybe it was because they weren’t looking at each other. Maybe it was because they were strangers. Or maybe it was because he reminded her of Felix.

Whatever the reason, she found herself whispering, “I didn’t think about it. I didn’t even remember. I… I don’t know how to be a vampire. I don’t want to be. I can’t take all of this at once.”

Luis was quiet for a beat. She watched his hands move between his splayed knees, one clawed thumb brushing over a scarred knuckle as he considered his answer.

“And you thought that hoofing it to New York on your own would help you figure things out?”

Dahlia stiffened. “How’d you know I was?—”

“You paid digitally,” he answered, not unkindly. “Next time, use cash.”

She bent at the waist to press her forehead to her knees and groan. “I hate all of you. I shouldn’t have to think about shit like that.”

A heavy hand patted her between the shoulder blades.

“Running away to someplace where you’ll have no help, no allies, and no resources isn’t going to make the adjustment any easier on you.

I bet it’s scary as fuck, so I don’t blame you for acting out, but you’ve got to be smart.

We could help you. We want to help you.”

“And all I need to exchange for that is my future, my freedom, and all my goals,” she replied, bitterness bubbling up like acid.

“Who the fuck said that? I know for a fact Felix wouldn’t.”

Dahlia reared back up and gestured sharply to the room at large.

“Everyone! Felix wants me to be his blood bride and lock me away in his house, and Alastair wants some weird fatherly version of the same thing, with the possibility that he might sell me off to the highest bidder for some fucked up syndicate alliance very high.

“And even if neither of those things were true,” she continued, really on a roll now, “I’m a vampire! My entire future has been rearranged because of one awful night. I won’t ever be the normal me again. I— I never wanted to be more than I was. I just wanted to be happy.”

Luis was quiet for a beat. Leaning his broad shoulder closer to hers, he lowered his voice and murmured, “How about you take a look around?”

Dahlia sniffled. “Why?

“Because you might see something that interests you.” He nudged her shoulder, urging her to look at the people rushing around the terminal. “We aren’t the only vampires cutting it close to dawn. Look, sugar.”

She didn’t want to, but she did. “What am I looking at?”

“Did you know that the New Zone has the highest population of vampires in the UTA?” He nodded toward a cluster of people hustling toward a doorway.

They all looked normal enough. A little pale, maybe, but normal.

“Vampires. And over there, that mom pushing her stroller as quick as she can to get on the train — vampire. There’s dozens of them in here. Did you even notice?”

Dahlia looked more closely. It took her a second, but eventually she spotted a flash of fang, a bottle of synth peeking out from a bag, the telltale flash of green in the backs of eyes as someone glanced quickly in their direction.

They were vampires. Not all of them. But a lot of them.

In a slightly gentler voice, Luis continued, “They look normal enough to me. They probably have goals. They have lives. I don’t see any reason you can’t be the same.”

He was right, to some degree, but that didn’t change several key facts.

Dahlia shook her head. “That’s the difference, though. They’re normal. They’re not whatever freak shit I am.”

“I’ll grant you that your circumstances aren’t exactly typical.

” He gave her a sympathetic look, but she wasn’t naive enough to trust it.

Luis had the kind of charm that oozed out of his pores.

She was pretty sure he could get whatever he wanted from anyone without having to lift a finger. Especially not with those lashes.

“I’m not gonna say that what you’re going through is fair or something you should suck up and deal with. It’s not and you should be mad. But what I am saying is that there’s a flipside to everything.”

He lifted his left hand. “On this scale, you’ve got all the bullshit that comes with being a Bowan and also my cousin’s bride — so sorry about that, by the way.

” He lifted his right, putting them about equal in the air for a moment before he began edging it a little higher.

“On the other side, you’ve become an heir to one of the most powerful syndicate families on the continent and an Amauri overnight.

So yeah, your goals might look different.

But have you considered that they might be better? ”

“How is that possible?”

“Listen, Felix is a vampire. It’s hardwired in all of us to provide for our anchor’s needs — blood bride or not.

Their happiness, their safety, their health…

it’s all wrapped up in our DNA. So what I’m saying is that if you told Felix what you need to be happy, there’s a good chance he’d skin himself alive to make it happen. ”

Dahlia stared at him for what felt like a long time. The tinny announcement of the final boarding call for her train eventually snapped her out of her surprise.

Shaking her head, she muttered, “You can’t be this well adjusted and reasonable. You’re secretly the biggest freak of all, aren’t you?”

A toe-curling laugh rumbled out of him. Standing up from the bench, he said, “Look at that! You’re catching on already.

You’re going to fit in great, sugar.” Shoving his hand under her nose, he wiggled his fingers.

“Now come on. We’ve got to get you home before sunrise — and before your man blows another gasket. ”

Dahlia eyed his hand with growing resignation. “I’m surprised he didn’t come down here himself.”

“I was closer.” His fingers wiggled again, more insistently this time.

Letting out a breath, she asked, “Do you really think Felix would listen to me?”

When she put her hand in his, his grip was firm but gentle as he levered her up from the bench. He made no comment on her torn pants or what she suspected were several leaves in her hair.

All he said was, “I think he’d give anything in this world to make you happy, sugar. If it were me, I’d do the same.”