Page 64 of Inked & Bloodbound

CASSINI

The Hollow never felt like home. Not even after months of working and sleeping here. But it used to feel like a reliable foothold. I won’t miss it when I’m gone, but as I’m sorting through my meager things, I register a tiny amount of affection for the place I never intended to settle in.

There’s barely any furniture in my room. No windows, no frames or artwork mounted to the exposed brick walls. Just a single bed in the center of the room with a flimsy pillow and a threadbare white sheet. Redundant human comforts displayed for show.

Italy had been different. I’d lived in sprawling palaces filled with ancient treasures—centuries of accumulated material beauty. Lush hand-embroidered fabrics draped around bricked-up windows, the endless hallways boasting exquisite Renaissance artwork in gilded frames.

But here, I needed only the basics to survive. My one non-negotiable was a place to hang the clothes that mattered. Soon after I’d moved in, I’d installed a single metal rail near the shower room and filled it with my most prized possessions: a single suit, my custom silk-lined leather jacket, and a few elegant shirts in case of emergencies.

I pull a charcoal Prada shirt from its hanger and run my fingers over the starched cotton. It’s one of my favorite pieces, a fine example of exquisite Italian tailoring that fits me like a glove. I slide it over my thick shoulders, past the growing mark on my forearm, and slowly button it closed in front of the floor-length mirror, leaving a few open at the top.

Damn, I look good.

It clings in all the right places, and when I flex, my biceps and forearms strain against it so much you can almost see the cords of lean muscle in my arms.

But if Lily wanted to tear it off me later and shred it into a million pieces with her bare hands, I wouldn’t stop her.

The memory of last night crashes into me like a tsunami. Lily’s perfect mouth, Lily’s divine body, Lily’s heavenly moans. In all my centuries of being a hollow shell, she filled every empty space inside me. To feel her thoughts while I was buried deep inside her, to explore her mind and her body at once—it was like being reborn. Raw, desperate, perfect. I’ve existed for so long without truly living, and when she opened herself to me completely, mind and body, I remembered what it felt like to be human.

I could experience that for all eternity, and I’d still crave more.

The leather of my belt feels supple between my fingers as I pull it tightly around my waist and fasten it behind the gold buckle. I push the mess of wavy curls back from my face and take a deep breath, trying to quiet the tingling in my spine that radiates to my belly, waking a million dust-covered moths somewhere deep inside me. They flutter and bang against the darkness inside me, searching for light.

I’ve had hundreds of women, but this feels different. For the first time, I’m unsettled and trying to navigate uneven ground. Maybe it’s because until tonight I haven’t had to try with Lily. There’s been no ceremony or seduction. Just connection. Our relationship has progressed so naturally—the trust and affection between us is an organic thing that has grown in the space between us.

But twenty-four hours can change everything.

Until I tasted her, I could convince myself obsession was weakness.

Until I fucked her, I thought I could still walk away.

But now her blood courses through my blackened veins, and nothing will ever be the same again. Now that I’m falling for her, the threats are coming from every direction. If I don’t get this done and get us both out of here, we’re fucked.

“Going somewhere?”

I’m pinning my solid gold cufflinks when the voice behind me makes me stiffen.

Julian.

How long has he been standing there? My hand instinctively curls into a fist, and I do my best to relax my stiff jaw as I turn to face him, plastering on the most neutral expression that I can muster.

“I am, actually,” I say with forced geniality.

He leans against the edge of the heavy oak doorway with his arms crossed and regards me like some lowly cockroach he wants to crush under his boot. His wiry frame almost reaches the top of the arch, and as usual he’s dressed in all black, with a leather holster of horrors slung around his waist. My eyes flick to the miniature crossbow dangling off the leather loop of his belt, and the image of pinning him against the wood and shooting him through the ribs with it warms me for a fleeting moment.

He fixes me with a steely look, like he’s trying to see below my layers of skin and into the darkest parts of me. His tone is ice-cold. “Your name keeps coming up. Again and again. The residents here tell me stories about you. About how they wonder where you go when you disappear. They tell me you leave at all hours and only come back to feed on our generous blood stockpile.”

“Have I got a curfew now?” I smirk. “Sorry, Julian. I didn’t know you cared so much. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll text you next time I’m out late so you don’t get worried.”

He sneers. “Perhaps I should let the twins have their way with you. Actually, no—nothing would give me more pleasure than being the one to end you, but for some reason the Primus has a strangeaffection for you.” He shakes his head. “I don’t pretend to understand it, and I definitely don’t share it, but know this: even his patience is beginning to wear thin.”

Is that true? Lazaro cares for me? Why would he? We’ve barely interacted in the time I’ve been here. Sure, I give him a large cut of my income, but compared to the blood money he collects, it’s a drop in the ocean.

“Either way,” he continues with a humorless smile, “it won’t be a problem soon enough. In a few short days you will take the Sangretà, and be bound to the Sixth and under our control, or I will have the great pleasure of turning you to ashes. I hope for my sake you refuse. My fingers have been itching to stake you.”

I step toward him, and he stands up straighter, like he’s preparing to square up. I smile and bare my teeth. “I’d hate to deny you such a pleasure, Julian, but you’ll be disappointed to know that I fully intend to pledge my allegiance to the Sixth.”

He deflates, almost imperceptibly, and it pleases me so much that it raises a smile.