Page 39

T he kitchen is silent except for the crinkling sound of the blood bag as I squeeze the last of it into my mouth. It's still so damn weird how natural this feels. The metallic tang, the surge of heat and energy that follows.

I lean against the counter, eyes scanning the open space of the penthouse.

Everything here is sleek and curated. Someone spent a lot of time and thought to make this place this beautiful.

The furniture is expensive, probably costing more than I made in all of the previous three years.

But none of it means anything to us. It was all here when Ares bought the place.

We didn’t pick it together. We didn’t argue over color palettes, or how many people we wanted to be able to seat at that dining table. It was all just here.

Now, we’re leaving it behind.

Our suitcases sit by the door. Just two each. I shipped five boxes yesterday. That’s it. A life condensed. Our memories and meaning don’t live in these things, anyway.

Ares is currently with Sysco, who is helping him load Ares’ motorcycle up for freight transportation.

He was smiling when he left this morning, like he was starting to believe this might be real.

A new life.

We’re starting over.

But it still doesn’t quite feel real to me. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve literally never lived anywhere but this island, and that I’ve barely even traveled off it. It’s really hard to imagine a life anywhere else.

But I’m ready. I’m genuinely excited. I’ve been researching the city all night, looking up its different districts, its sports teams, what the seasons are like.

I think I’ll enjoy Chicago.

I look over my shoulder when the front door opens, and Ares walks in.

Something’s wrong. I feel it before I see the tension in his shoulders.

I straighten. “What happened?”

He closes the door gently, too gently, and drags a hand through his hair. “I saw her.”

My chest tightens. “Who?” But I have a terrible feeling that I know exactly who.

“The therapist. It was… it was just like you said. I couldn’t… I couldn’t make sense of anything. Even while I was standing there. Her face slipped from my fucking mind even as I looked at it. I felt like I was half-asleep or like I was walking through a memory I never made.”

My skin crawls.

“I might have cussed her out for what she helped make me do.” And that sentence alone ignites a wildfire of fear inside me. But Ares presses on. “She didn’t care,” he says with disbelief as he shakes his head. “She said it was the whole point, that I was just assisting with crowd control.”

“She seriously said that?” I ask, my lip curling in disgust.

Ares nods, the horror and disbelief of it all bright in his eyes. “She also said there are probably fewer than fifty vampires in New York City now. But she’d like to see that number drop.”

Fifty. There are fewer than fifty vampires in New York City. The population of the city is over eight fucking million.

“She’s been doing this more than we realize,” I say as I shake my head. “The Steele family was the big purge, and you took out five vampires for her. But she’s not keeping that number so low without purging a lot more frequently than we realized.”

Ares nods in agreement. “I called Harry right after, and he still won’t leave.”

“What?” I gape. My stomach turns. We’ve been trying to talk Harry into leaving New York since we decided to leave. Sysco has been on him nonstop since he decided to move as well.

But Harry is determined to stay in New York. He says he won’t bow to this woman.

“He’s even more determined that he’s going to find her and take her out,” Ares continues.

“I hate that,” I say, folding my arms over my chest so my hands don’t shake. “Why? Why would he risk his life like this?”

Ares shakes his head. “I think he has things going on here that we don’t know about,” Ares says. “A person. An arrangement. I don’t know. But he’s made it clear—he’s not afraid.”

I can’t stand the thought of leaving someone we care about behind. Harry is my friend. He is a good person. But he is also an adult. He’s very capable. He’s also very powerful. So, I’m going to have to trust that he can keep himself safe.

“I told that bitch we’re leaving,” he loops back to the therapist. “I told her we’ve warned the others. She said… nothing, really. She looked at me, and I felt like she was reading every thought in my head.”

“Did she say she’d stop?” I ask, heart pounding.

“No,” Ares says, his voice hardening. “She didn’t say one way or the other, just pointed out the number of vampires left in New York.

And then she wished us fucking luck in the move.

” He shakes his head, visibly disturbed.

“But being in her presence? That was enough, Vengeance. We’re doing the right thing. ”

I nod, my relief immediate and visceral. “Then let’s go.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”

Billings meets us downstairs, already outside with the car. Our luggage is loaded into the trunk, and then we’re ready to leave. The morning is gray, the sky stretched taut with clouds. It’s like New York knows we’re leaving, and it’s holding its breath.

“You sure you’re good on your end?” Ares asks Billings, clapping him on the shoulder.

Billings nods. “I’ll finish what needs doing here, then I’ll be right behind you. Got a place lined up near the lake already.”

My chest swells a little. Billings has been with Ares for years. Knowing he’s coming with us—it means something. And it’s one more vampire that will be safe from that woman.

At the airport, Sysco greets us at the security entrance, sunglasses on, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

“You two look like you’re about to start a new empire,” he says with a grin.

“Maybe we are,” Ares answers, and they fist bump.

Sysco raises a brow at me. “How we feeling, boss lady?”

“Nervous,” I admit. “But in a good way.”

We check our bags. Security is fast. We board early, and I breathe a little sigh of relief as I settle into my first-class seat, Ares a comforting presence beside me. Everything feels seamless, fluid—as if the universe is trying to make our exit as smooth as possible.

The plane hums softly beneath us as we lift into the air. I grip the armrest. Ares takes my other hand and intertwines our fingers. I focus on the rhythm of our breathing.

I’ve only flown a few times in my life, so I’m not experienced. But this feels different. Like I’m not just flying across states—I’m flying into a new version of myself.

A new city.

A new life.

A new beginning.

Ares leans close. “You okay?”

I nod as I look back at him. “More than okay. I feel relieved. We’re making the right move. I feel it down to my bones.”

He kisses my knuckles and rests our hands on his thigh. “I feel it, too.”

Outside the window, New York recedes. The skyline fades into mist, then disappears entirely.

As we make the three-hour flight, I think about what life in Chicago might look like. We still have to find a place to buy. But what will our day-to-day look like? What new friends might I make? What secrets about Chicago will we get the answers to once we’re residents?

I don’t have all the answers, but I’m okay with it. I feel delusionally confident that everything is just going to work out.

Chicago rises to meet us like a story unfolding. The lake is vast, stretching endlessly, reflecting the sky like glass. The buildings are bold, angular. There’s a rhythm to the streets, a kind of heartbeat I can feel even from above.

My pulse picks up.

This is it.

The plane touches down smoother than I expect. The moment the wheels hit the tarmac, I feel it in my soul—this is real. We’ve really done it.

Holy shit.

We taxi, shuffle off the plane, and make our way through the terminal.

I’m surprised that it doesn’t feel too foreign.

Chicago is still the third largest city in the country, behind New York and Los Angeles.

It’s not like I’m moving to some small, rural town.

We collect our luggage, and finally, we step out the doors to the pick-up area.

Juliet stands there in black combat boots and ripped jeans. She flashes a warm grin the second she sees the three of us, and steps forward. Roman stands beside her, stoic as ever, but there’s warmth in his expression.

I grin as I close the distance between us. “Homecoming committee?”

Juliet throws her arms around me. “You’re here. It was kind of hard to imagine you’d actually make it.”

“We’re here,” I breathe into her shoulder as I hug her tightly.

She smells like night air and sandalwood. Like Chicago.

Ares and Roman greet each other with a handshake and a shoulder clap. Men of few words, but the camaraderie is solid.

Sysco loops an arm around Juliet’s shoulders. “So, where’s the welcome party?”

Juliet smirks. “First stop: food. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a deep dish from our spot.”

I take a deep breath as we step outside. The air is colder here, sharper.

But it tastes like a beginning.

Like possibility.

Like freedom.

I grip Ares’ hand as we drive into the city, and he glances over at me, his thumb brushing mine.

And I know.

We’re exactly where we’re meant to be.