Chapter 3
Noah shifted gears hard. The only way this wasn't ending in blood was if he could outrun the hunters now on their tail.
His bike began to sputter a few minutes down the road, the engine coughing like a dying animal. Noah frowned, eyes flicking down to the gauge. The fuel needle dipped dangerously low.
"That's impossible."
He didn't want to believe it. But moments later, the bike shuddered to a halt. The engine gave one last groan before dying completely. They both climbed off, and Noah dropped to one knee beside it, checking the undercarriage.
A second later, his voice tore through the silence. "They cut my fucking pipes!"
"Language, Noah." Seraphine scolded, folding her arms, her tone more offended than concerned.
He shot her a sharp glare. For someone who fed on blood, she was surprisingly uptight about cursing. But Noah didn't mess around when it came to his bike. It was the one thing in the world he could truly call his own—paid for with sweat, bruises, and the blood of more than a few monsters.
The hunters crossed a line. And for a brief moment, he considered just stepping aside and letting Seraphine off her leash. They didn't deserve his restraint.
He stood and took in their surroundings. A long stretch of nothing. Empty lots, shadows too deep for comfort, and that awful stillness that screamed trouble.
"Find somewhere to hide."
"Hide? Why?" Her nose wrinkled, lips jutted into a pout as annoyance radiated off her. "Just let me kill them."
"And then what?" he snapped. "They'll keep coming. You know that. So shut your mouth and hide."
"Don't tell your master to shut up. Fine!" she snapped back, tossing her hair and stomping a few steps away.
"Don't let them find you," he said, quieter now, his tone laced with something darker. The night pressed in around him, bringing back too many memories—dreams twisted by trauma, flickering images from fourteen years ago. This all felt too familiar.
"Okay. Call my name when it's over. No—no, call me Sera," she said, almost teasing.
"Not a chance," Noah muttered under his breath, already shifting his mind to strategy—cover, movement, escape routes. He didn't look at her again, but he knew the moment she left. Her light, that strange ever-present bubble of warmth, vanished from his side like a candle snuffed out.
He darted across the road, his boots thudding softly against the pavement, and slipped into what looked like an abandoned warehouse. The metal door hung crooked on its hinges, already half-destroyed by time or something worse. Noah pushed it open wider—wider than necessary, deliberately careless. A breadcrumb trail. An obvious sign: I'm in here. Come get me.
Inside, the place smelled of dust and rusted metal. He crouched behind a stack of crates, the wood brittle and splintered, and waited.
They came exactly when he expected—three shadows slipping into the warehouse, boots silent, breath low. They fanned out, circling his bike outside first, then stepping into the trap he'd laid. No chatter, no hesitation. Professionals. He respected that. Hated it, but respected it.
He knew their type—hunter-trained to the teeth. Some learned to mask their heartbeats, their presence practically undetectable to vampires. Not many could pull it off, but these ones were disciplined. Dangerous.
He'd have to drop them fast, quiet, and if he was lucky, get one to talk before letting them go. Maybe even score some new gear in the process. Robbing fellow hunters might be frowned upon, but he'd consider it payment. Hazard compensation. Thank you for not dying tonight, here's your sword in return.
One of them came close, moving with the careful grace of someone who'd done this a hundred times. A pro. But Noah was faster.
He lunged, grabbing the hunter by the collar, yanking him into a hammerlock before the man could breathe a sound. Noah's hand came down sharp and clean—chop to the neck. The hunter sagged instantly, and Noah lowered him gently behind the crates.
"Anything?" a voice whispered from the shadows.
They'd notice the absence soon. Noah shifted, slipping around the stack and vaulting over a crate of old cables. He landed silent. The second and third hunters moved cautiously, whispering now.
"Hey," Noah called lightly, and as one turned, he met a hard punch to the jaw. The man staggered. Noah grabbed his sword before it could hit the ground and spun, blade raised at the last hunter.
"Hi," Noah said, grinning. "I'm not your enemy. I'm actually saving your life."
"Bullshit," the man growled.
Noah heard it—felt it—before he saw it. The subtle whistle of something cutting the air.
He dodged low.
An arrow zipped past his shoulder, embedding itself in the crate behind him with a heavy thunk. He cursed, pulled back, freeing the hunter to run away.
He'd miscalculated.
There were more than three.
"Shit," Noah hissed, the word punching out of him with the weight of realization. Second time tonight.
He slipped around the crates on his hands and knees, moving low and silent. The shadows were thick here, perfect for someone like him.
"Who is it?" came a gruff voice, older, from deeper in the warehouse.
"It's the human pet," replied the other hunter, scorn heavy in his voice. "He got Ryan and Victor good."
"Where's the vampire?"
Noah grinned to himself, the edges of his mouth twitching up. So it was just him, and they were already relaxing. Rookie mistake.
He scaled one of the support beams quietly, fingers gripping rusted metal, and pulled himself onto it with a soft grunt. From above, their positions were clear—too close together. Perfect.
"Didn't see her. Where's Destiny and Christian?"
"Destiny thought they went the other way."
Destiny? Noah froze. His body tensed, the name slicing through his mind like a cold wind. No. Can't be that Destiny. He shoved the thought aside.
"Where did he go?"
"Up here," Noah answered casually, dropping down between them in one smooth motion. Before the older man could react, Noah drove a kick into his chest, sending him skidding across the floor.
He turned, caught the throat of the remaining hunter, and dragged him back against his chest—shielded. His eyes flicked to the older one, who had rolled to his knees, bow up and aimed.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Noah said calmly.
"Well, he's not," the hunter in his grip snapped, elbowing backward.
Noah's knee shot out, slamming into the man's legs, and he shoved him forward—directly into the line of fire. The man's head jerked toward the drawn arrow.
"I'm really fast," Noah said coolly. "Me, you'll miss. Him? You won't. What do you bet?"
"Why the fuck is a guy like you with that vampire?" the hunter choked, squirming in his grip.
"What's your name?" Noah asked, tightening his hold.
"Greg," the man croaked.
"Well, Greg," Noah said, loosening his grip just enough to let him breathe, "listen up. You tell your party this: that vampire? She can't be killed. She's one of those so-called Bloodthorn vampires."
Greg's eyes widened.
"Yeah. That kind," Noah confirmed. "So stop sending dumbasses like you after her. You're not just wasting your time—you're pissing me off."
He turned to the older hunter, lifting an eyebrow.
"This is the part where you throw that bow away."
He pulled out his dagger and pressed it to Greg's throat, not deep enough to cut, but enough to make him feel the threat. The older hunter understood instantly. With a scowl and a muttered curse, he tossed his bow far off to the side. The clatter echoed across the warehouse.
Noah smiled. "Thanks. I'll be collecting money for the repairs on my bike, by the way. But hey—nice meeting you lot."
Without hesitation, he smacked the hilt of his dagger against the side of Greg's neck. The hunter went limp in his arms. He dropped him gently, and when he looked up, the older man had drawn his sword.
"I've been a hunter for seventeen years," the man said with calm defiance. "I haven't seen a vampire I couldn't kill."
"Doesn't matter," Noah replied, stepping closer, "this time it's not about what you've seen. It's the truth. I'd let you test your luck, but I've got bigger idiots to worry about—so save me the hassle."
Before the man could blink, Noah closed the distance. A sharp jab to the gut knocked the air from his lungs, and a clean leg sweep took him off his feet. In the same motion, Noah caught him midair by the throat and slammed him flat against the concrete.
The man groaned, dazed. "What the hell… you're fast."
"Thanks." Noah's fist came down hard, and everything went still.
He stood, shaking out the tension in his knuckles, and crouched to search the man's coat. A few gadgets, a small comms device, a throwing knife hidden in his boot. Useful. He pocketed what he liked and finally turned to the man's sword, clean and straight—pristine, unlike his bloodstained one.
"Upgrade," he muttered, taking it and slinging the bow over his shoulder.
Then, without another glance, he headed for the side entrance. Time to find the others. Or Seraphine. Whichever came first.
Noah ran out of the warehouse. He knew Seraphine's tendencies—she would choose the brightest place.
He spotted a house with its lights on. Vampires couldn't enter a home unless invited, unless the owner was dead. This house appeared lived-in, but it was better to check.
He ran up and knocked, expecting a confused human to answer, reluctant to let a stranger in at this hour. Instead, Seraphine opened the door. She smiled and pulled it wide open. That was immediately concerning.
"What happened? How are you inside?"
"I was invited in, but this house doesn't belong to anyone."
"I told you to hide. Does this look like hiding? I hope you didn't hurt them."
She was close to starving. Noah knew how dangerous she became in that state—someone would likely die soon. Earlier, he had given her a few drops of his blood while she slept, but that wouldn't keep her sated for long.
"I didn't kill them. Just come in already—they have food. Let's eat here, Noah." She rolled her eyes and started pulling him inside.
Then Noah heard the arrow. He reacted instantly, pushing her aside. The arrow sailed past them, straight into the house—straight into the young woman Noah hadn't realized was standing there.
The young woman's panic arrived in slow motion, her face twisting as if she were trying to bargain withing to it. Then, she slid to the ground.
"Damn it, Seraphine, help her!"
Seraphine didn't so much as glance at the bleeding human. Instead, she was snarling at the hunter lurking in the shadows—the one who had fired the arrow.
"I've got it. Just help her," Noah snapped.
Seraphine looked him over, clearly ready to argue.
"Noah—"
"I know," he cut in, already moving. "It's okay."
Was it? He was leaving a bleeding human with a starving vampire. That sounded like a bad idea but he couldn't focus on that right now
"Destiny?!" Noah called out, uninterested in stealth. "Do you even realize what you've done?"
Sure, there were probably other hunters named Destiny, but Noah knew better. No one else was this obsessed with chasing them down.
"Come out! I'm not in the mood for games!"
He scanned the area and caught movement. He didn't flinch, didn't bother defending himself. He waited. Let her step into the open.
Short brown hair. Gray eyes. Hoodie and skinny jeans.
It was her.
"You shot that human. You realize that, right?"
"For a just cause."
Noah sighed. "You can't kill her. You, of all people, should know that."
Destiny's expression darkened, her chin lifting in stubborn defiance. "But I can put her down."
"Not for long."
"I can lock her away. Like before." Her voice was tight with frustration. "Do you know my family barely trusts me now? Ever since she escaped under my watch—"
"That wasn't on you. I released her."
Her glare could've burned through steel. "So many of us died just to capture her, Noah."
"And there's no need for more to die." He met her gaze, steady. "Let it go."
She recoiled as if he'd suggested adopting a pet vampire instead. "Let it go? You're telling me to let it go?"
"Yes."
"She murdered your entire family, and my whole clan was nearly wiped out because of her!"
"She had help," Noah admitted, voice level. "But yes, I know. I hate her just as much as you do, Destiny."
Her scoff was sharp enough to cut. "Do you? You let her follow you around like some tragic shadow, clinging to you at every turn. You hate her?"
"Yes." His tone didn't waver. "I want to kill her just as badly—maybe even more than you do. I want to kill every last one of them." A pause. "But I don't know how to do it permanently. And fighting something you can't kill? That's suicide, Destiny."
"Maybe," she said, gaze flickering. "But I'd rather have her locked down in a box than roaming free." Her voice softened just a fraction. "Noah. Help me. She trusts you. Let's keep her down."
Noah shook his head, his voice steady despite the chaos. "I know what I'm doing, Destiny. Let this go."
Her laugh was bitter, sharp enough to cut. "I knew you'd say that."
Before he could respond, an arrow shot out from the bush, grazing his thigh. He leaped aside, but not fast enough to avoid the sting. Blood hit the air, and Noah's stomach sank.
This was about to go very, very wrong.
Seraphine burst out of the house like a predator unleashed, her focus locked on the hunter in the shadows. She moved with terrifying speed, catching him like a rat in a trap. Her mouth found his jugular, and with a sickening pull, his throat was free.
When she turned back, her glowing blue eyes were feral.
"Seraphine!" Noah's voice was sharp, desperate. But she was already on Destiny, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
Destiny swung her sword, but Seraphine caught it mid-strike and tossed it aside like it was nothing more than a toy.
Destiny turned to run, but Seraphine was faster. She grabbed her, teeth sinking blindly into her throat.
"Sera!" Noah shouted, the name tearing from his throat. It was the only thing he could think to do.
Miraculously, she stopped. Her blood-covered mouth turned toward him, her glowing eyes narrowing.
Noah didn't hesitate. He brought his dagger to his own throat, cutting a line deep enough to bleed.
"Come here," he said, his voice low but commanding.
Noah couldn't let Destiny die. He owed her too much to let Seraphine tear her apart. If he let her blood spill—there would be no coming back from it.
Seraphine stalked toward him, a strange smile curling her lips, eyes locked on his throat like it held all the answers. Noah didn't blink. One hand pulled a syringe from his pocket, hidden in his grip.
She reached him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing close. She inhaled deeply—savoring—and then she bit down.
Pain seared through him, clearing his thoughts with brutal efficiency. He met Destiny's eyes through the haze and gave her a silent command: Go.
For once, she listened. Clutching her bleeding neck, she crept away.
Noah swayed. Seraphine was drinking greedily, without restraint. If he hesitated even a second more, he'd be nothing but a corpse in her hands.
He drove the syringe into her neck.
She stiffened, then pulled away, her gaze glassy, unfocused. For a long, quiet beat, she stared at him—then slowly collapsed into his chest.
Noah staggered, barely keeping them both upright. He scanned the area, breath shallow. If the hunters attacked now, he wouldn't be able to stop them. And Seraphine? She wouldn't be fighting tonight—or tomorrow night, for that matter.
She needed to be stashed somewhere safe.
He hoisted her over his shoulder and headed up the hills, toward that house with the lights still burning.