Unfinished Business

ALEXANDER

^PRESENT DAY^

Aya crumpled to her knees before me, clutching her wounded neck and glaring at me with her wide, doe-like eyes. I found myself captivated by the golden specks in her eyes, and her full lips pulled back to expose her fangs.

“I am not yours,” she spat out.

I lowered myself to her level, feeling the waves of her anger and hatred. But beneath that, I sensed something else—longing, regret, sadness. I took in her face, unchanged since our last encounter. Her dark lashes framed her mesmerizing eyes, her light-brown skin stretched tight over high cheekbones.

She was still the girl I had turned over a hundred years ago. So innocent, despite her profession. Her earrings jingled, and I couldn’t help but smile. I had always loved her earrings.

“Aya,” I warned. “Don’t start something you don’t want to finish. I wouldn’t want to hurt your little friend.”

I raised an eyebrow. Behind me, I heard the vampire I had thrown against the wall earlier, cursing as he dislodged himself.

Her gaze remained steady. “I could tell everyone who you are,” she threatened.

I smirked. “I’d kill them all without batting an eye. Do you want that, little bird?”

I reached out to caress her cheek. She recoiled.

She seemed to ponder it, likely assessing my combat abilities. Her lips pursed.

“You’ll be gone by evening?” she asked, her gaze dropping.

I gently cupped her cheek, lifting her face. She didn’t resist. In fact, I felt her lean into my touch. She took a deep breath, inhaling my scent. For a moment, her eyes flashed crimson. Then she met my gaze again.

“I will. I need to find Caroline.”

She smirked. “So, what did you fuck up?”

I couldn’t help but glare. She knew me too well.

***

I claimed the bed while Aya and her companion settled on the floor. Although I didn’t enjoy watching him wrap his arms around her, holding her close, I knew she wasn’t ready to share my bed again. Even though I dreamed of it constantly.

Memories flooded my dreams. Her scent enveloped me, her soft skin, her doe eyes, the jingle of her jewelry, her lips against mine. I remembered her soft moans, the way she gasped as she moved against me, the way she bit her lip to draw blood—just to get my attention.

I groaned uncomfortably as my body reacted. I had avoided thinking about Aya for years—decades even. I had forced myself to forget her, to ignore her whenever I saw her working at the manor. But since the revolution and the fall of my family, memories of our time together often bubbled to the surface.

My eyes snapped open. I could tell dusk was approaching—the air was already cooler. I ran my fingers through my hair, sitting up and staring at her.

She was curled up on the rug, a thin blanket draped over her lower half. She wore a white tank top, barely concealing her enticing dark skin. Her hair was spread over the cushion, her lips formed into a pout. I easily remembered the first time I saw her face after removing her veil. It had been an act of violation, but she was even more beautiful than I had imagined.

She mumbled in her sleep, her emotions washing over me—frustration, pain. She was having a nightmare. I slid off the bed and moved toward her. Gently, I stroked her cheek. She shifted slightly, her neck arching, one long leg pushing out from beneath the sheet.

“Aya,” I whispered.

“Alexander,” she murmured, still asleep, her face scrunching into a frown.

I traced my fingers down her throat, lightly brushing the spot where I had bitten her earlier. She moaned, catching me off guard. My gaze snapped to her face.

“Alex,” she sighed.

I grinned. She was aroused. And I was loving it. My fingers traced across her collarbone, and she took a sharp breath.

“Stop it, Alexander,” she murmured.

My gaze shot up. She was awake, her wide brown eyes locked onto mine.

“Good evening,” I smirked.

She propped herself up on her elbows, pursing her lips. “Are you leaving?”

“Not yet. I’m hungry. Want to go hunting with me?”

“How about I give you a five-minute head start while I call every vampire in the region? Sounds fun to me,” she snickered.

“Ever wondered what I consider fun?” I asked, a smirk playing on my lips.

She responded with an eye roll.

“Alex, you need to leave,” she said, her tone shifting to a more serious one. “Tom and I don’t want you around. You’re a threat to us. And your sister—whatever crazy scheme she’s cooking up—probably needs you.”

“I’ve lost her trail,” I confessed. “So, I’m off to Blake Castle in France. I suspect she’s after the queen. I think she’s planning to assassinate her.”

Aya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Damn. She really does need your help,” she murmured. “She’s lost it.”

“Fifty years of confinement with my family can do that,” I retorted.

“And what about fifty years of servitude to your ex’s family? What does that do to a person?” she fired back.

I couldn’t help but grin. “So, I’m your ex now? Not just the one who turned you?”

“Shut up, Alex.”

“Join me for a hunt. Then I’ll leave. Promise,” I said, winking at her.

She glanced at her sleeping partner, then let out a heavy sigh. “Fine,” she grumbled. I could tell she was famished. She usually was around this time of the evening.

“Good girl,” I growled, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. I pulled her close, my hands pressing her body against mine. I took a deep breath, her scent filling my nostrils, and my body shivered in response. “You still smell heavenly,” I whispered into her ear.

She trembled in my arms, her hands slowly moving up my chest. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she pushed me away, her eyes glaring.

“No hugging,” she growled.

“What about a kiss?” I asked, smirking.

She continued to glare.

“What about a kiss?” I repeated, still smirking.

Her glare remained unchanged.

While she took a quick shower, I helped myself to some of her companion’s clothes: a pair of dark blue jeans and a black chemise. There was also a bright red jacket that suspiciously resembled the Canadian Red Serge. I glanced at the sleeping turned vampire, his mouth agape as he snored. He must have stolen it, I concluded.

I also took the opportunity to rummage through Aya’s bag. It was smaller than I had expected, but she was never one to overpack. She had a collection of dresses and long skirts, a small pouch filled with jingling earrings and necklaces, and three well-worn books.

I was flipping through the first book when I heard the bathroom door open. Aya stepped out in a long cream-colored dress, cinching a belt around her waist. Her dark hair was wet, cascading down her back and dampening the fabric.

She had already put on a pair of jingling earrings. She picked up the hairdryer and shot me a glance.

“Snooping around, are we?” she scoffed before retreating back into the bathroom.

I cursed under my breath. I had been so captivated by her sudden appearance that I hadn’t even attempted to hide my actions. Quickly, I put all her things back and sat on the bed, waiting for her.

A few minutes later, she reappeared, her dark curls tumbling past her shoulders. She eyed me suspiciously.

“Finally,” I said, grinning at her. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“I saw you drain a girl just last night,” she retorted.

“I haven’t had a proper meal in fifty years,” I reminded her, my tone ominous.

She snorted but looked away as I led her outside, leaving their rented basement behind and stepping onto the bustling streets.

The cafés and bars were packed, and the lights from the shops bathed the streets in a warm glow. Humans hurried past us, their eyes meeting ours, their heartbeats quickening as they scurried away.

Aya peered into a small antique shop, seemingly oblivious to the admiring glances she was receiving from the human men across the street. I eyed them, wondering if they would make a satisfying meal.

“Alex, look,” Aya called out.

I turned to look at her, and suddenly, she was all I could see. Her eyes were alight with excitement. She was pointing at a chessboard through the glass, adorned with little ivory figurines. It was identical to the one we’d first played on.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, I felt her resentment melt away as she was lost in a pleasant memory.

“My father,” she murmured. “He would have adored this board. Can you see the intricate carvings on the pieces?”

“It’s beautiful,” I agreed. “We should play another game, Aya.”

But when she turned to face me again, the moment had passed. Her resentment was back, her pain. She shook her head.

“No. Let’s find you someone to feed on, and then you can go your own way, and we never have to see each other again.”

“In public, call me André,” I muttered.

“All right then.”

She was already striding down the street, a couple of paces ahead of me. I watched her, navigating through the crowd, oblivious to their stares and their quickened heartbeats.

She guided me through the labyrinth of streets, away from the city, and into the vineyards bathed in moonlight. She remained silent, always maintaining a few steps’ lead.

Eventually, she halted. I could sense it too—the scent of blood, the faint rhythm of a heartbeat, the gruff voice of a man humming to himself. Our eyes met, and I could feel her anticipation building.

Without a second thought, she lunged. Quicker than I anticipated, she vaulted over the vineyard rows, vanishing behind a stone cottage. I trailed behind, landing next to her as she pinned a man down. He wasn’t resisting, just staring up at her with wide eyes, his heart pounding in his chest.

Aya and I had hunted together more times than I could count. I could read the subtle changes in her posture, the way she adjusted her hold just enough to keep him still without breaking his bones. It was seamless, as if we had never been separated. The familiarity was intoxicating.

She shot me a playful smirk. “I caught him; I get the first sip.”

I felt a jolt of annoyance. I was always the first to drink. But before I could voice my objection, her fangs were already sinking into his neck. He let out a surprised gasp, a choked blend of pain and pleasure, his body squirming beneath her as she drank. Her crimson gaze never left mine.

There was something about her movements, the way she fed—it was reminiscent of the past. The excitement of the hunt, the shared anticipation, the silent understanding that passed between us. It felt like we were two halves of the same primal force, perfectly in sync. For a moment, I allowed myself to believe we still were.

She pulled back, wiping the blood off on the back of her hand. I stepped forward, my hunger gnawing at me. Before he could regain his senses, I seized him, holding him steady before snapping his neck. He collapsed to the ground.

Aya barely reacted. I reached for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her close.

“What’s next?” she groaned.

I cradled her face, my thumb brushing against her skin. The man’s blood was still dripping from her chin. Without thinking, I lowered my head, licking the blood off, tracing a path up her throat to her lips. The rich, metallic taste combined with the warmth of her skin sent a wild thrill through me. She was intoxicating. She tasted like my deepest cravings.

She gasped, attempting to pull away, but I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her tight.

“Stop resisting me, Aya,” I murmured, my face nestled in the crook of her neck. “I’ve missed you.”

I felt her shiver in my arms, her body stiff. Then, she growled. “I despise you.”

I pulled back just enough to see her crimson gaze glaring up at me. She was resisting, fighting against everything in her that wanted to give in.

“If I could, I would kill you,” she hissed fiercely.

Her words felt like a dagger through the heart. I stepped back, and she quickly distanced herself from me. We stared at each other over the lifeless body, the burden of years and bloodlust between us.

“You can leave now,” she spat.

There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to do. Our time had ended long ago.

“All right,” I muttered, pressing my lips together. “Take care, Aya. I genuinely wish you the best.”

I could feel her eyes on me as I turned and walked away, heading north. Caroline had probably left the city by now. It was time for me to leave as well.