The entire time the Politia did nothing. Their reasons weren’t lost on me. Back at Castle Rushen they’d seen what happened when I was wounded. For all their weapons, they weren’t willing to spill my blood.
“You really thought you could coerce me?” I asked conversationally, sauntering down the steps. The entire time I was acutely aware of Andre. He clenched his swords in his hands, but he made no move to attack or divert attention away from me.
The Politia had forced their way onto Andre’s property, disregarding their treaty with vampires—a treaty I’d risked my life and soul for only a few months ago. They had already bombed Bishopcourt, firing the first proverbial shot. But most of all, they’d threatened Andre.
Fury boiled beneath my skin, building by the second.
Threatening my mate, bond or no bond, was a line you just didn’t cross. And they crossed it.
Ho, was I pissed.
My kinsmen hovered along the periphery, nothing more than shadows. Waiting, waiting. They wouldn’t have to wait much longer.
Yes.
I smiled, lifting a hand to the sky.
The ground trembled, my hair swishing.
Mete out your revenge! my power screamed.
A gun went off from one of the officers positioned behind his car. The bullet tore through the flesh of my side. I gasped as I clutched the wound, and Andre roared.
The maelstrom only grew from my pain. Another gun went off, slicing into my thigh. I let out a defiant shriek, and the wind kicked up.
My gut wound closed, but not before blood covered my hand. It seeped between my fingers, trickling down them and beading along the edge of my hand.
And then it dripped.
The blood hissed as it came into contact with the earth. Shouts rose from officers as the devil’s minions took shape.
Andre’s blurred form moved from person to person. I could hear the wet slice of his swords as he cut down anyone in his path.
Lightning cracked overhead, illuminating the night. Men and women scrambled to their cars. They looked like spooked horses, the whites of their eyes large and visible.
The demons finished forming around me, and they charged the officers.
I threw my power out, lashing it across the tank. The metal armor of it groaned as it dented inwards. I needed to work this anger out of my system, but the more power I released, the angrier I became. I feared that the next time I used it, it would be to hurt someone. As much as a part of me craved that, a smaller part—the part I admired—wanted to retain what little humanity I had left.
Luckily, before I had a chance to test the limits of my self-restraint, the Politia retreated.
“I don’t want you risking yourself like that again,” Andre said, stalking back to me. He bent to wipe his swords off on the grass. Behind him, several men and women lay unmoving on the ground.
I lifted my chin. “This goes two ways, you know. You don’t just get to protect me.”
The storm raging in his eyes calmed at my response. When he reached me, he brought my forehead to his. “Soulmate, you can’t know the effect your words have on me.” He squeezed the back of my neck. “That still doesn’t change my mind.”
Andre stepped away at the sound of footsteps. I swiveled to see his guards and several vampires heading towards us. Beyond them, I caught a glimpse of a wide-eyed Oliver and Leanne.
“I need five good men to deal with the bodies,” Andre said. “And someone needs to start lighting candles for those who don’t have night vision. Jon,” he called to one of his men, “get what spare bulbs you can from the basement.”
It took some time for Andre to organize his people. As he did so, I stared off at the horizon, where the Politia members had fled.
They’d be back, possibly during the day, when Andre would be sleeping. My being here endangered him—endangered everyone. Andre, our coven, my friends, even those that wished to do me harm. Blood would spill in the coming days, and it would be my fault.
Andre came over to me and wrapped me in his arms. He pressed his nose against the thin column of my neck. “I can smell your guilt,” he said.
I found his hands and gripped them tightly. “Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
He pulled away enough to meet my eyes and pushed the hair away from my face. “I have not survived seven centuries on luck alone, nor do I intend to die when my mate needs me most.”
“Promise?”
“On my life.”
No other attacks came in the hours that followed, not that this made us any less tense. People wanted me dead. If they weren’t actively attacking me, then they were planning on it.
As the evening came to an end, Andre kept me by his side. It became a thing, keeping me close. Neither of us knew when, where, or how I would disappear. And as the hours tick by, and I remained on earth, I became almost … optimistic.
Maybe I wasn’t going back.
We stood on the steps of Andre’s home to see off the cars carrying the bodies of the fallen. Andre was delivering them back to the Politia.
“Even in war there are ethics. One gives honor to the dead,” he said now, by way of explanation.
This was one of Andre’s medieval beliefs.