Page 62 of Map of Pain

“I know,”Nick said, but his eyes remained fixed on Luka.“I can see that. But I need to understand how it works. The power structure. Whether...”He gestured helplessly.

“Working for an old one isn’t like being owned by one. Wehadour own lives, our own relationships. We just maintained order in his territory. Like police, but for vampires.”

“And when you left?”

“He let us go,”Marcus said, speaking for himself now rather than translating.“When we told him we wanted to establish ourselves downstate, he gave us his blessing.”

“Why did you leave?”Nick asked.

“Because we wanted something different. A community based on choice rather than obligation. A place where humans and vampires could coexist.”

“Like what you have with Caleb.”

“Like what I have with Caleb,”Marcus confirmed.

Nick looked down, but Luka could see him working through implications, connecting dots. “How long ago?”

“About fifteen years,”Marcus answered.“We’dbeen planning it for a while, but we wanted to make sure wehadenough resources to establish ourselves properly.”

Nickwasquiet for a moment, staring into his coffee. When he looked up, his expressionwascarefully neutral. “Okay. I think I get it.”

«Tell him I’m not going to let that bastard ever touch him again, that if he comes looking—»Luka began, but Marcus held up a hand.

“Luka,” Marcus said. “He’s dead.”

Luka’s hands froze mid-sign. The energy thathadbeen gathering itself for threats and protection and possible violence went still.What?

“Gianmarco Nicoletti died three years ago,”Marcus said, his voice gentle but firm.“I heard about it through the Chicago network—apparently the Society hit his main facility during daylight hours.”

Luka stared at Marcus, then at Nick, trying to process this information. Three years. Gianmarcohadbeen dead for three years, and Lukahadbeen unconsciously worried about a ghost.

Nick ran his fingers along his scarred throat.“They found me while I was bleeding out in the box. Itwaspart of their recruitment pitch—they killed the monster who hurt me, so I owed them.”

Relief flooded through Luka so suddenly he felt dizzy.No threat. No danger. He can’t hurt Nick anymore.

But as the relief faded, other questions rose. Luka signed quickly, and Marcus translated:“How did the Society manage it? Last we heard, theywerea small group. Maybe a dozen hunters, and theylost half their numbers when they attacked us eight years ago.”

Nick’s expression darkened.“They’re not small anymore. They’ve been recruiting, expanding, establishing cells in multiple cities. What happened at the community center could happen again anywhere.”

“How big?”Marcus asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t know. But Dominic Shaw commands at least fifty active hunters, probably more. And they’re well-funded, well-equipped.”Nick’s voice grew quiet.“They’re not the amateurs. They’re organized.”

“We need to get home,”Marcus said firmly.“Regroup. Figure out how to handle this.”

Luka nodded, then looked across the table at Nick. The distance between them felt enormous. He held Nick’s gaze and looked down at the empty seat beside him, hoping the invitation would be clear.

Nick understood without translation. He stood and moved around the table, settling in the chair beside Luka. The familiar scent of concrete and vanilla and flowers wrapped around Luka like a gentle weight.

“Better?” Nick asked quietly.

Luka nodded and reached for his notebook, writing:‘Hate talking through Marcus. Prefer our way.’

Nick read the note and smiled—the first genuine smile Lukahadseen in hours.“Me too.”

Chapter twenty-five

A man starved, finally being fed...