Page 154 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Entire worlds were on the brink of war, and still, the underworld kept on fucking churning.

Truth be told, I didn’t mind it here so much. Humans were so locked into day-to-day survival they didn’t notice their world teetering on the edge. Mortal wars. Attacks on American soil. The clock was ticking, and they were too busy to care. Arms deals, drug drops, corner hustles—business as usual. Like ants oblivious to the magnifying glass overhead, they scurried through their routines, unaware of what was coming.

But we felt it. The shadows hissed and stirred. The balance shuddered. My heart pounded like a war drum. The snow moon would rise tomorrow—Valentine’s Day, tail end of Aquarius, mercury crawling out of retrograde. The short version? On a scale of one to ten, we were so fucking fucked. I pictured a clown juggling chainsaws in a category four hurricane. Minus the laughter.

Ma had called a war room to sort out the chaos and where to focus while we still had time. But for now, I was waiting for Carr at The Rougarou, thumb tracing condensation down the side of my glass.

“Cyrus,” Melody purred, sliding into my booth. “Where’ve you been, Prince?”

“We’ve missed you at La Lune.” Carissa’s perfume hit me before her voice did. I should’ve checked on them after Uptown, but they hadn’t crossed my mind. I wasn’t one for relationships. A few family members, fewer friends—that was enough. The hierarchy kept my plate full.

“Been busy,” I murmured, still drawing through the droplets.

“Busy chasing ghosts.” Nix’s voice was like getting socks for Christmas. Wet ones. That smelled like mildew and shame. Nothing good ever came of it.

“Ladies,” I sighed, nodding. “You remember my cousin.”

“Nix, you look good,” Carissa said, already scooting toward him. Four words and she’d banned herself from my bed. Shame. I hated finding replacements.

“Ca-riss-aah,” he drawled, sleazy as ever, rolling up his sleeves to flash those damn wings. “What’s a girl like you doing in a rat’s nest like this?” His eyes cut to me, then to Melody’s cleavage where it spilled from her tank. “Better question: what are you two doing without me?”

“Avoiding STDs, I’d think,” I muttered, draining my beer. The girls giggled and Carissa leaned into his side.

“What was that, little cousin?” Nix smirked, arm sliding around Carissa’s waist, hand landing on her thigh. Making a show of it, like a kid grabbing someone else’s toy.

“You’re like a dirty fucking penny,” I grumbled. “Instead of luck, you just make everyone wanna leave.”

“Big man scared of a little competition?” He squeezed her thigh, watching me like it would get a rise.

“Just what my night needed—secondhand embarrassment,” I said, brushing a kiss to Melody’s temple before motioning for her to slide out. “Nothing says desperate like drooling over your cousin’s leftovers.”

Nix laughed, but his ears turned red. “What do you say, ladies—wanna set your stakes?” he asked.

“I’ve never had to persuade a woman into bed, Nix. Not about to start now.”

I stood, tucked Melody’s hair behind her ear, and offered her my seat. “You know where to find me.”

“Cyrus, don’t go,” she whined. “We came for you.”

But I was already turning, the noise of the bar falling away as every nerve lit up. Combat focus. A hum in my bones. Something—someone—had stepped into the room.

Where are you?

I couldn’t see her. But I could fucking feel her.

Every inch of me could feel her. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Carr dropped a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, man, sorry I’m late. You okay? You look…peaky.”

“Pesky ghosts again?” Nix laughed.

“Somethin’ like that,” I muttered, stepping around Carr and praying the universe was listening.

The place was almost entirely Nephilim. That mortal frame shouldn’t have been hard to spot. I moved through the crowd, every sound too loud, pulse thundering in my ears. I turned in a circle, scanning for new faces, just as a flash of red vanished through the front door.

Without thinking, I bolted out into the parking lot, lungs heaving, adrenaline flooding my system. Three bikers rumbled onto the road. The redhead—gone.

“Cy, what the fuck?”