Unwanted Company

CAROLINE

Anthony was a pain in the neck, to put it mildly. He was adamant about escorting me to the boundary of his self-proclaimed “domain.” Then, as if by some divine intervention, he announced that the sun was about to rise, making it impossible for him to return.

This, of course, meant he had no choice but to find a place to spend the day—preferably in my company. I gritted my teeth. He was like a leech, sticking to me at every turn, completely unaware—or maybe just uncaring—that I wanted nothing to do with him.

Every effort I made to create distance was met with a smug grin and some unbearable comment. He behaved as if we were old pals, as if he had the right to meddle in my business. The worst part was, I couldn’t shake him off.

His green eyes observing me during our conversation made me uncomfortable. He was concealing his true intentions, and that was clear as day. I was acutely aware of my vulnerable position—purebloods were always more powerful than turned vampires, but Anthony was ancient.

I could feel it. He was at least twice my age, which meant he was incredibly strong. And likely knew how to fight. Unlike me. We strolled along the beach, the waves gently caressing the sand, while I scanned the area for a suitable place to take shelter from the sun.

“So, Alice, what’s the game plan?” Anthony inquired, with an unnerving casualness.

“No game plan. I’m just passing through,” I responded, barely giving him a second look.

He laughed, the sound deep and grating. “As I’ve mentioned before, I make it a point to meet every vampire that passes through my territory. I make it a point to know them.”

“That sounds like a remarkably risky endeavor,” I muttered under my breath.

He scratched his chestnut beard, still wearing that grin. “I didn’t choose my mission. If it were up to me, I’d probably be guarding something else,” he said, chuckling.

I kept my face expressionless. So, he was a guard. A royal guard, perhaps? He raised an eyebrow, as if expecting a reaction.

“But,” he continued, “I’m kept informed when things go wrong. That’s what makes my job interesting.”

I stiffened. “I see,” I murmured, my eyes darting around for potential escape routes.

He was observing me too closely now.

“And things have gone wrong, haven’t they, Alice?” he probed.

I held my head high. “I have no idea what you’re talking ab—”

I didn’t get to finish my sentence. A wet, hurtling body crashed into me, knocking the wind out of me. I gasped, narrowly avoiding a pair of gleaming fangs.

The vampire who had just attacked me regrouped, already gearing up for a second assault. And he wasn’t alone. From the water, their scents concealed by the salt and sea, five turned vampires emerged.

Their eyes glowed a wild crimson, their dark clothes clinging to their soaked bodies. They moved with an eerie synchrony, their faces eerily alike—dark skin, jet-black hair, and the unmistakable red insignias of the House of Shahalia. Shahalia’s minions. Trained by purebloods to eliminate purebloods.

I barely had time to comprehend the implications before the first vampire lunged again, his hand reaching for my throat, his fangs bared. A loud thud echoed as Anthony’s arm shot out in front of me, sending the wet vampire flying back with brutal efficiency.

Before the attacker could react, Anthony was on him, ripping his head clean off his shoulders with a seemingly effortless flick of his wrist. The head landed on the sand with a nauseating thud, rolling toward the waves.

I turned just in time to see another minion lunging at me. His fist connected with my face, pain radiating through my skull as I stumbled and fell onto the damp sand. A metallic taste filled my mouth, my vision blurring as I gasped for air. My nose was broken.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Anthony tearing through another vampire, his movements quick, accurate—ruthless. He flung one attacker against another, their bodies tumbling like rag dolls as he dispatched them with terrifying ease.

The vampire who had knocked me down towered over me, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking me upright. His fangs gleamed as he pulled me toward him, aiming straight for my throat. I hissed, my own fangs extending as the hunger surged through me. My vision turned red.

I twisted, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. His bones crumbled under my grip, but he held on. I twisted harder—until I tore his arm off entirely. His eyes, a deep shade of red, widened in pain. Tears of blood welled up as he stumbled backward, clutching the place where his arm used to be.

I threw the severed limb at him, hitting him square in the face and knocking him off balance. Before he could recover, I was on him, sinking my teeth into his throat. His scream was muffled as I drank, the raw power in his blood making my head spin.

I drained him quickly, then ripped his head from his body and let him fall. Another one was already on the move, charging at me. He tackled me, driving me into the sand. His weight was crushing, his massive hand slamming over my face and forcing it into the grainy surface.

I struggled, but he was stronger. Sand filled my mouth, my nostrils, my eyes—I was choking, suffocating. I bit him. Hard. He hissed, his fingers digging into my skull.

“You will die, filthy tyrannical slut,” he growled, his breath hot against my skin. His fangs found my throat, piercing deep, tearing through flesh. Pain shot through me as my blood spilled, hot and fast.

For a brief moment, I thought of my father, throwing himself into the flames. Then, in a blur of motion, my attacker was gone. He was airborne, headless, his body tumbling lifelessly into the sea.

Anthony stood over me, his beard dripping with blood, his emerald eyes burning with residual fury. He wasted no time, hauling me up from my sandy grave and pulling me into his arms. My blood soaked my shirt, my throat throbbed, and my heart still pounded from the near-death encounter.

Anthony’s fingers prodded at my wound, his gaze darkening—until he saw I was already healing. Only then did his crimson eyes fade back to green. He held me for a second too long, his gaze locking onto mine with something unreadable.

Then, finally, he cracked a smile and set me back down. “I believe,” he drawled, “I was talking about this situation exactly.”

I could only blink at him, my throat burning as I swallowed down blood.

“What are you talking about?” I rasped.

“Plans going awry.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The pureblood families of Europe have heard rumors that Caroline Night and Alexander Night have both gone missing. William Night’s body was found in the ruins of the fire that burned the royal manor down.

Now, bounty hunters and assassins are on your scent. You won’t get far.”

The mention of Alexander made my stomach twist. “Alexander?”

Anthony nodded. “He’s been spotted in Florence. They’re closing in.”

I scowled, pushing blood-matted hair from my face. “How did you know who I was? And why aren’t you trying to kill me or cash in the bounty?”

Anthony smirked. “Because I work for you, Princess.”

I froze.

“Your grandfather turned and hired me six hundred years ago. My mission? To protect his grandchildren.

I failed to protect your crown during the revolution, but you are still alive. And I intend to keep it that way.”

He grinned, flashing his fangs. “So, Caroline…what’s the plan?”