Page 93 of Wolf of Ashes
Gad presses his tongue to the edge of one of his eye teeth as if he’s dying to let his fangs extend.
“She’s my walking blood bag,” he replies. “I’ve been trying to convince Jonah to give me one.”
Beside me, Diavolo wears a chilling expression that says he isn’t amused. If we didn’t have to make nice with these supernaturals, I’d encourage him to express his feelings.
I lay a hand on his forearm, grateful when he lets me speak first.
“Sipping on my blood can only hurt your bones,” I reply, calmly allowing my teeth to sharpen, knowing that my canines have turned black and as sharp as blades. I retract them quickly because I can’t risk humans seeing them. “I like to gnaw right down to the marrow.”
Gad’s smirk slips and Valki withdraws a little.
They appear to have the same thought at the same time, steering clear of me and surging ahead.
“Remind me to kill them once I’m in charge,” I mutter to Diavolo, who simply inclines his head at Anarchy.
“If you get to them first,” he says.
I can only smile down at my beautiful panther, whose teeth are bared at the backs of the berserker and the vampire. I imagine her ripping out their spines. They’d be dead before their bodies touched the ground.
“Soon, Anarchy,” I promise her. “Soon.”
We’re now only ten paces away from Vanguard and Orlan. Jonah has joined them already and he’s standing between them while Valki and Gad are boarding the train.
As we approach, Jonah steps to the side and so does the Orlan.
Another figure comes into view. A much smaller figure.
Vanguard is already speaking, but his voice washes over me. “Veda, Diavolo.” He gestures to the little boy standing beside him. “Meet Elijah.”
The kid can’t be more than four years old. Five, at most. Unless he’s little for his age.
He’s wearing sunglasses on his face and some sort of leather-looking contraption over his head and ears, but he’s turned in our direction and, even though I can’t see his eyes, I’m struck by the sense that he’s looking right through me.
All the way into my hollow heart.
“This is the package?” I whisper, struggling to find my voice. “A child?”
Vanguard’s jaw clenches. “My son.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Oh, fuck me.
When Vanguard first spoke of ‘the package,’ he described it as extremely valuable. He said that many supernaturals would want to use it while others would be determined to destroy it.
I now see why.
This sort of leverage against Vanguard would be priceless.
He also said that ‘the package’ was being sent to a powerful supernatural who would secure it where it couldn’t be found again, but that supernatural would try to kill Vanguard should he attend in person. The emotion in Vanguard’s voice when he spoke about never associating with the package again makes a whole lot of sense to me now.
He’s sending his son away to be raised by an enemy.
Must be some fucking honorable enemy for Vanguard to believe his child will be safe with them.
But, fuck…To trust strangers like me and the keeper with the safe passage of his child…
It speaks of a level of desperation that unsettles me.
