He’d worried about the consequences of breaking a contract, butnothing,absolutely nothing in a contract besides imprisonment and death could’ve been worse than this.
His vision blurred as he looked back down at the beautiful, fake-looking headshot in his hands.
She’ll never be free.
Not in the “once you’re in the syndicate, there’s no leaving” kind of way, and not even in the wayheoriginally meant. A golden anchor was far more valuable than their namesake. It wasn’t just because they tasted good. It was because they were a status symbol.
The more she was seen as being desired, the more she’d be worth. And the more she was worth, the more precarious her position became.
All due to a harmless genetic quirk that made her blood a little too sweet for her own good.
She’d never be able to walk the streets unguarded again. Whatever life she’d thought awaited her after this didn’t exist. She’d be in danger every moment of every day if she didn’t have protection.
It’d never been an option to lose before. Now he knew he’d die before he let that happen.
She didn’t belong to any of these fucks. She was his. End of fucking story.
The only problem was that he hadn’t bitten her yet. He’d been waiting, biding his time, trying to find a way to hold onto the illusion their conversations had woven. He was too attached to how comfortable she was with him. He thought he hadtime.
Now his hesitation bit him in the ass. No one, certainly not anyone in the room, would respect his claim without a bite. Not now.
Jaw firming, Luis tucked the envelope into his tuxedo jacket’s inner pocket and stood up from his seat. Eyes immediately swung to him, but he ignored them all as he stalked out of the parlor. Finding a decently private spot a ways down the hall, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
His brother picked up on the second ring.
“What’s wrong?” The question came with a long-suffering sigh, which Luis didn’t think he’dcompletelyearned.
Usually he’d ham it up a little, maybe give Milo something to really be annoyed about, but he was too agitated for his normal levity. Watching more groups of vampires pass his hiding spot on their way to the parlor, where they were supposed to pay their entry fees, he growled, “I need your help.”
“Are you in jail again?”
“No,” he answered, rolling his eyes.
“Have you been shot?”
“Also no. I need you to?—”
Clearly in one of his surlier moods, Milo pressed, “Has it ever occurred to you that I might be too busy to pull your ass out of the fire?”
Offended, Luis protested, “I haven’t evendoneanything to?—”
“You’re on a whiny baby assignment. How could you possibly need my help?”
“If you’d let meexplain,”Luis dragged out. When his little brother didn’t immediately jump in with more of his incredibly enlightening commentary, he let out a breath. “Listen, man. I need your help. Ireallyneed it.”
Milo paused. In a much sharper voice, he asked, “What kind of trouble are you in?”
“Not me,” he answered, slinking back into the shadows of the alcove he’d occupied. Resting the back of his head on the wall, he peered out a curtained window to see the moonlit landscaping of the rental property.
I should’ve run with her,he thought bitterly.We’d be halfway home by now, and she’d be safe.
Trying to focus, he told his brother, “I need you with me. I can’t tell you why, but it’s to help a woman.”
“One of yourplaymates?”Milo had never approved of his casual relationships, and it came through loud and clear.
It was his staunch belief that a vampire ought to only have one true mate — or two, in the case of their parents — not for any high moral reason but because their lives were so dangerous that casual liaisons put innocent people at risk.
Luis had never agreed with him on that point until now.