Page 25 of Luna

I pass the expansive lawn. A fountain, big box hedges, landscaped flower beds. Jogging up the stone steps to the front door, I shiver. There is something different in the air today.

The mansion’s energy is usually thick and black and toxic – the remnants of centuries of dark, shady shit that has gone down here. Evil. If ‘evil’ is a real thing.

Today, something else shimmers beneath it. I close my eyes and try to latch onto the sensation. It is not demonic energy. Not vampire either.

It has no color.

It just feels like… power.

It hits me in the chest and knocks the breath from my lungs. I stumble backward, and I’m steadying myself on a nearby concrete pillar when the door swings open. Trent greets me with his arms folded in front of his skinny chest. He’s wearing a jet-black suit, as if he is auditioning for the role of ‘mafia henchman’ in a movie, and he stinks of dog.

He curls his lip at me in a wolfish grin.

Clearly, he’s not long returned from a shift. I almost wish he’d stayed that way; he’s more palatable when he looks cute.

“He’s in his office.” Trent deliberately blocks the doorway for a moment longer than necessary. I don’t push past him, just wait casually for him to move. All the while, still feeling the throb of whatever new energy has settled in this place.

“What’s been happening?” I ask as Trent follows me down the corridor.

He frowns.

“Sounded urgent.”

Trent shrugs. Clearly, he has no idea what’s been going on, but wants to pretend he does. “I’m sure he’ll explain when he sees you,” is the best response he can manage.

Poor, stupid bastard.

When I knock on the door to Thornfield’s study, he answers immediately, and I find him with his hands braced on the windowsill. Shutters closed. Fire blaring. His shoulders are hunched and he’s breathing heavily. He doesn’t turn around to face me but growls, “Trent, this doesn’t concern you.”

“But—”

“Leave,” he commands.

I try not to smirk. Instead, I offer Trent an exaggerated look of sorry, mate, and watch him stalk off down the hallway.

When he’s out of sight, I close the door and walk over to the window. Lucien remains stock still, staring down at his knuckles, which are white with pressure. There is blood on his chin. I glance at the desk and notice the flask of blood. Good news because it means he hasn’t fed on an actual human.

“Well?” I ask, folding my arms. “You got me out of bed at the crack of dawn. What’s happening? Has the Covenant surfaced?”

There is a quivering pause and then Thornfield turns around. His eyes are almost pitch black and small crimson flecks dance on their surface.

“Not the Covenant, no. Something much bigger than that…”

“All right, do you want to stop talking like a cryptic crime lord in a superhero movie and just tell me what’s happening? Or are we going to do ominous soundbites all morning? Because, honestly, Thornfield, I’m knackered. I was out tracking a Marling demon until two a.m. and…”

“Do you remember me telling you about Luna?”

I stifle a laugh. Of course, I remember. He doesn’t fucking shut up about her. And when he decided to off her boyfriend, who got called for cleanup duty?

That one pissed me off; I’ve never cleaned up after a human kill before. When Thornfield explained what the guy had done, what kind of man he was, I saw why he’d done it. But I still wasn’t happy he’d gotten me involved in something that could have resulted in actual jail time.

“She’s here.” Thornfield folds his arms and leans back on the windowsill, facing the room but looking at me.

“Here?” I glance around his study, half expecting her to jump out from under the desk.

Thornfield nods. “There was an incident at the bookshop last night.” He paces over to the desk and turns the computer screen toward me, then presses play on a video. For a moment, my breath hitches. My skin starts to tingle.

I look away, but Thornfield growls at me to watch, so I force my gaze back to the screen.