The scent hit him before he reached the tree line.
Burned vampire. Mixed blood. Not fire, but acid, laced with silver and something worse. Something wrong.
Lucan moved through the woods like he wasn't touching the ground. His eyes were dull grey, scanning without blinking. The night didn't hide anything from him. Not anymore.
He found the body nailed to a fallen tree, arms out, head bent forward like it had been posed. Not ritualistic. Theatrical. This was meant to be seen. The mark on the chest wasn't a clean carving. It had been melted in.
His sigil.
Corrupted.
Again.
Lucan knelt beside the corpse, hand resting on the earth, not the body. He didn't close the vampire's eyes. He wasn't here for reverence.
He was here to understand.
The vampire's mouth twitched. It was still alive.
Lucan moved fast. Two fingers under the chin, one over the forehead. He snapped the neck clean, not to kill, but to silence the reflex. The body convulsed once and stilled. Then Lucan pressed his palm to the burned sigil and closed his eyes.
To read.
The tether within him pulled tight. This vampire had seen something. A shadow without shape. A voice without lungs.
And in the moment before death, it had whispered only one thing.
Brother.
Lucan stood, hand shaking once before going still.
Behind him, a twig snapped. Before the figure could react, Lucan reached out with his left hand and caught the spy mid-air.
The vampire hit the dirt face-first. Lucan had him by the throat before the echo of the impact faded.
"You followed me," Lucan said.
The vampire tried to speak. Lucan didn't let him. He dragged him across the forest floor like a sack of meat and pinned him to the same tree as the corpse.
"Who sent you?"
The vampire gasped. "I- n-no one. I just- I recognized the scent. They said-"
Lucan's grip tightened.
"What. Did. They. Say."
The vampire panicking now.
"They said if I saw a man with grey eyes... I should run."
Lucan stepped back. Calm again.
"Good advice."
Then he moved. One strike, open palm to the chest. The vampire flew back ten feet, spine snapping mid-air.
Lucan didn't bother watching him hit the ground. He turned back to the corpse. His voice low, barely audible.
"I warned you, Caelis. This path ends with you in pieces."
He looked up at the trees.
"And I don't leave pieces."
-----
The Fangtasia office was cold, even for a vampire.
Eric sat behind the desk, one hand on a glass of blood, the other tapping absently against the wood. The drink wasn't for thirst. It was to keep from pacing.
Pam stood near the door, arms crossed. Her heels clicked when she shifted weight, the only sound in the room.
"He visited Sophie-Anne," Eric said.
Pam didn't blink. "And?"
"She didn't kill him."
Pam raised an eyebrow. "Is that surprising?"
"She kills anything she can't control."
Pam leaned back against the wall. "Then maybe she thinks she can control him."
Eric looked up at her. "She can't."
"Then maybe she just wants to fuck him."
He didn't smile.
Pam walked to the desk and sat on the edge of it, facing him.
"You're not worried about her, Eric. You're worried about him."
Eric didn't answer.
"You've known who he is your whole undead life. And now that he's actually here, you're acting like the walls are closing in."
"I'm checking the balance."
Pam reached for his glass, took a slow sip.
"You're not afraid of him."
Eric's voice dropped. "No. But I don't think I understand him. And that's worse."
Pam set the glass down.
"Do you think he's with her? Sophie-Anne?"
"No. Not yet."
"But he will be."
Eric nodded once. "If he chooses to."
Pam glanced toward the club entrance. Someone was knocking, slow and persistent.
"Do you think he'll choose a side?"
Eric leaned forward.
"I think if he does, every vampire on the continent is going to feel it."
Pam smirked. "Good. It's been too quiet."
Eric looked at the door.
"Not for long."
-----
Amanda's sleep hadn't been real in days. When it came, it hit like a fall, abrupt, disorienting, the kind of collapse that left her body cold before her eyes even shut.
Lucan watched from across the room. He didn't hover. He waited. Like a sentry at a locked gate, reading the wind.
Her breathing changed. Slowed. Then she spoke. Not in whispers. Clearly.
"Two steps to the left."
Lucan frowned.
"There's a crack in the ground. He doesn't see it. That's why he dies."
Amanda's head rolled to one side.
"Nora is watching. She doesn't say anything."
Lucan stood, crossed the space in a blink.
He knelt beside her, one hand near but not touching.
"Sophie stands with blood on her hands. It's not hers. It's not mine."
Amanda exhaled hard, chest rising like she'd surfaced from underwater.
Lucan caught the shiver before it broke into a tremor.
"It wasn't a dream."
Her eyes opened wide and focused.
"I saw something that hasn't happened yet," she whispered.
Lucan didn't speak. Not immediately. Then he asked, quiet. "What else did you see?"
Amanda blinked.
"I saw you."
Lucan leaned closer.
"What was I doing?"
Amanda swallowed hard.
"You were walking away."
Lucan didn't react.
But his silence was louder than anything he could have said.