Copyright © 2022 H.M.

Darling

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of
brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Emily Wittig Designs

Formatting by Nicole Scarano Formatting & Design
 Contents

Content Warning:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46

Acknowledgments
About the Author
 Content Warning:

Heir of Ashes is a New Adult novel and contains materials that may be triggering for some readers,
including mild instances of torture, repeated mentions of blood and consumption of blood, and
explicit sex scenes (all consensual).
Please do not read if any of this content is triggering to you.
This one’s for little me. I’m so proud of you.
 Chapter 1

T he first time I saw a vampire kill someone, I was five years old.
It was a Wednesday night after dance practice. I was waiting outside with Mom; Dad was
bringing the car around. The parking lot to the left of the dance studio was bustling with
children, their parents... and one vampire. He blended in surprisingly well, dressed in a blue
Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants; he was nothing like I imagined vampires would look. I was still too
young to know monsters lurked in plain sight.
Vampires lived in the same world we did, in every city and every shadow. If one only looked
hard enough, they could find them in parties and politics. A hundred years ago, they were nothing but
a myth, but advancing technologies had brought their monstrous nature into society. Now, they lived in
the same neighborhoods as families and lingered in coffee shops after dark. They came out only at
night and lived forever - unless they found themselves at the sharp end of a wooden stake. They
looked like everyone else until they opened their mouths and revealed the ever-present fangs that
made them an apex predator.
This vampire walked along the side of the building, his hands crossed behind his back as he eyed
each of the children that frolicked out of the dance class. I looked up from where Mom was tying my
shoes in time to see the vampire smile and display razor-sharp fangs. The next second, he was tearing
a child from his mother’s arms and ripping into his small throat like a wild animal.
Sixteen years later, I could still hear the boy’s scream like an echo of my worst nightmare.
I never went back to dance class, though perhaps it was for the best. My parents pretended it
never happened. Each time I opened my mouth to ask for an explanation or seek consolation for my
nightmares, they shushed me and told me not to think about it. They thought hiding the truth from me
and my little sister, Abigail, would protect us. We had a sundown curfew. We weren’t allowed to
hang out with our friends on school days. When vampires were on the news, my parents changed the
channel in the blink of an eye, shooting me or Abigail a cautious look to see if we’d paid attention. At
first, I never did. Years later, I learned to open my eyes and see the world for what it was - full of
monsters.
Dad died when I was eight.
At first, Mom didn’t tell me or Abigail the truth about what happened to our father. She only said
there had been an accident. She didn’t tell us he was walking back to work at night, alone, or his
body had been found drained of blood. Abigail was only six at the time; she didn’t understand what
death meant quite yet. When she asked more questions, Mom cried and left the room. I had to tell my
little sister that our father wouldn’t be home for dinner - ever again.
The funeral was a sad and small affair. Dad worked a lot; a few of his coworkers came to pay
their respects along with extended family members I’d never met and would never see again. It was
an open casket ceremony. I thought he looked so small, pale and helpless - the opposite of everything
I’d ever known about my father. Death made people wilt, like flowers. When it was my turn to say
goodbye, I thought I should have been crying because everyone else was. Instead, I looped a
friendship bracelet around his wrist and stood straight - and that’s when I saw them. There were two
perfect holes in the side of his neck, small enough to go undetected. The mortuary had tried to cover
them up and stitch them closed, but there they were. I knew then what had taken my father from me.
That was the first time I felt rage.
From then on, I paid attention to every news article; every mother, daughter, son, and husband
killed by a vampire. I saw pictures of vampires on the internet, sitting in bars, laughing with people
they’d kill later. I stole newspapers from the library and read them in the bathroom before and after
school. I learned that they were the perfect predator - utterly beautiful and deadly. They were faster
and stronger than even the best humans and their fangs were sharper than a blade. Their blood was
something of an inexplicable miracle that could heal any wound or turn someone into a vampire. They
survived off the blood of innocents and bathed in the glory of death. I also learned they were held
captive by the night and would burn in the sun. A wooden stake to the heart would kill them instantly.
When I was eleven, my school hosted a career fair. The whole day was a pathetic excuse to shove
corporate futures down the throats of unsuspecting children. Mom forced me to go and think about
what I wanted to be when I grew up. She led me through rows of tables, picking up every pamphlet
along the way. She chattered about how I could be a lawyer or a doctor, except not once did she look
at me to see what I wanted.
It was the smallest booth in the back corner that caught my eye, the one all the parents were trying
to steer their children away from. While Mom talked to someone about me becoming a teacher
someday, I told her I had to go to the bathroom. When she wasn’t looking, I ran up to the table with
wide eyes and fire in my veins and blurted something like: “you guys are the ones who kill vampires,
right?”
The Runners.
The Runners were an international organization of vampire hunters. Every major city in the world
had a team of Runners whose jobs were to hunt and kill the pests that plagued their city and murdered
innocents. Runners went through years of intensive physical and mental training and only the best of
the best made it to the streets. I’d read about them before, with only an inkling of a thought that
becoming a Runner sounded interesting. But when I talked to the dark-eyed girl with scars on her
face, I knew without a doubt: I was going to be a Runner.
Mom lost her mind when I asked over dinner that night. I pushed away her piles of pamphlets and
set down one of my own. She screamed nonsense, forbidding me from ever bringing up something so
absurd ever again. I was grounded for weeks, but I’d already made up my mind.
So, after Mom went to bed each night, I stole her computer and worked on my application to the
Runner school in Los Angeles, the closest Institution to home. It was an intense application, much
more than I anticipated, and full of psychological tests and strategic puzzles. Still, I pushed on. It took
me nine days to complete the whole thing. When I was done, I forged my mother’s signature and sent
it off.
I was accepted six weeks later.
 The day the letter came in the mail, I snuck it up to my room and opened it in my closet. When I
saw I’d been accepted, I hurtled downstairs in triumph. During dinner, I slammed the letter down in
the middle of the table and declared that I was going to be a Runner.
I’d never seen my mother so angry.
But I’d learned how to be angry too.
While Mom was angry with me, I was angry with the world. I was angry innocents were dying
and there weren’t enough people out there willing to protect them. I was angry because I’d lost my
father to a vampire and been lied to about it. I still heard the screams of the boy after dance class, his
life easily stolen away in front of so many clueless civilians. That same year, a vampire ran for
political office in New York- they won with an overwhelming majority of the votes. Across the
world, in Australia, there were videos of a vampire teaching French to children in school. They were
growing too comfortable in our society. They stole lives; they didn’t deserve praise or dedication. I
was angry.
I wanted them all gone. I wanted them all dead. I wanted to be a part of the movement to keep
humans safe from the monsters haunting my nightmares.
For four days, I sat at the dinner table with my acceptance letter in front of me. I ignored
everything my mother said to me and simply stared. I did not sleep. I did not eat. I did not drink. I only
sat with my hands on my letter and I waited. On the fifth day, Mom relented.
I was hospitalized for dehydration, but I didn’t care. I was going to be a Runner. I moved to the
Los Angeles Runner Institution six months later and never returned home.
I stayed in Los Angeles until I was fifteen, when I transferred to the Chicago Runner Institution
after testing into their advanced program. I studied and trained harder than any other Runner in my
class. I was filled with fire and determined to be the best. I learned five languages, specialized in
psychology for my studies and perfected four kinds of martial arts. I trained with knives, swords,
bows, and whips; my weapons became an extension of myself. Each wooden stake I was given had
my initials carved into the hilt.
When I was seventeen, I graduated at the top of the class.
I transferred to the New York City Runner Institution after graduation to continue my training until
a Runner Team had a position for me. Most Runners let themselves relax after graduation, but I
worked harder. I learned more fighting techniques, another language, chemistry, and studied vampires
in literature. I was eighteen when I joined the Long Island Runner team. I lasted two days before I
was fired for disagreeing with the Lead Runner. Three weeks later, I joined the Brooklyn Runners.
I’d found where I belonged.
Milo, the Lead Runner, challenged me to be the best Runner I could be. During the day, when we
should have been sleeping, he taught me more about myself than I ever expected to know. We trained
hard and, when we were done, we fell into bed together. His second-in-command, a spunky pink-
haired girl named Amelie had almost as much attitude as me and became my partner each night. There
were two others on our team who were both killed within a year. Amelie retired shortly after the loss
of her friends, and then it was just me and Milo.
I was promoted to second-in-command and, together, Milo and I rebuilt our team. First, we found
Beck, who was full of the same fire and rage as me. Then Shina, who was a Runner with a goal of
making the world a safer place for people like her dead sister. Finally, we found Jonah, who never
talked about his past, but fought like a bear.
Milo died on a Monday night.
We were out hunting. It was a slow evening and we were getting ready to go back to the house and
spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms when we heard footsteps behind us.
The next thing I knew, I was kneeling in a puddle of my best friend’s blood, trying desperately to
use my own shirt to stop the bleeding. I’d seen humans die and I’d killed dozens of vampires - but I
had never realized how much blood was in a body until I was covered in it. Milo made a horrible
gurgling noise as he fought to stay alive.
I begged him to hold on.
I prayed he would live.
When he died, I felt something inside me break. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed and
then…it was over.
In order of succession, I went home that night as a Lead Runner.
I became everything I’d ever wanted to be.
That was two years ago.
Wind whipped against my face as I blinked through every step of my life that had gotten me to this
delectable moment. I was Lead Runner of the best team in the world, living in a city crawling with
leeches where every night was a celebration of death. I’d danced this tango a thousand times. Tonight,
the vampire thought he could sneak up behind me, but I’d been ready. I was always ready. He was a
strong one, older and faster than the average street vampire - but a fool nonetheless. All it had taken
was one wrong step and he was on the ground beneath me. Pain rushed through my body; I was sure
my shoulder was dislocated, but I kept my grip on the blade in my hand and the throat I pressed it
against.
“Say my name, baby,” I whispered.
The beautiful man beneath me spat in my face and bared his fangs.
He’d put up a good fight tonight. I was dirty and bloody and there was a rip in my favorite pair of
pants. Blood from a surface wound on my forehead dripped onto the vampire’s face as I leaned over
him. As soon as he was dead, I would fall breathless onto the cold asphalt. For now, I enjoyed the
whines of pain falling from his mouth.
I chuckled lightly, sliding the blade against his skin and watching the dark red blood flow. “I’m
going to kill you anyway, so grant me this last favor.” I leaned closer so my mouth was inches from
his ear. “Say it.”
With my free hand, I pressed my second weapon to his chest. The wooden stake pierced his flesh,
nudging against his ribs before I elicited a cry from him.
He gave in too easily. “Phoenix Ashburn.”
“That’s right, baby.” I shoved the wooden stake forward, feeling it break his ribs and pierce his
heart. Beneath me, the vampire’s skin turned ashy and gray, his eyes sinking into his head. I lifted his
cold hand as his last breath left his lungs and pulled the pretty gold and emerald ring from his pinky. I
thought maybe it looked familiar and looked up at the vampire again. I wasn’t sure - it didn’t matter. I
slipped it onto my index finger.
“I’m Phoenix fucking Ashburn.”
 Chapter 2

T he first moments after the vampire died were a blur. The pain I’d been suppressing during our
fight came rushing through me all at once and I slumped to the ground next to the dead monster.
Almost immediately, there were hands on my shoulders, pulling me into a sitting position and
pressing something to my head - it felt like a rag to stop the bleeding.
“Breathe, Phoenix,” my second-in-command, Beck, demanded.
I sucked in a breath, yelping at the sharp pain in my ribcage. The damn vampire had broken my
ribs, most likely with the sloppy kick he’d landed to my chest. Beck sat me up further, handing me the
rag to hold on my own while they called the rest of the team. We’d broken up into groups tonight - me
and Beck had taken one part of town and we sent Shina, Jonah, and Finley off to another
“I’m okay,” I mumbled, forcing myself to take slow, small breaths while wiping blood and dirt out
of my eyes.
While I worked on cleaning myself up, I looked over at Beck, confirming they weren’t injured.
There was some blood on their arm, stark against their pale skin, and a growing bruise on their
forehead, but they seemed otherwise unharmed. Beck used a whip as their weapon of choice, and it
currently lay discarded at their feet while they tucked their phone back into the strap on their belt.
Beck rolled their eyes, turning to face me. “You’re lucky I was busy with his friend, or I’d have
killed him for you.”
“You’re no fun.” I surveyed the quiet street. There had been a few civilians out here earlier before
the pair of vampires dropped from a rooftop. The street was now deserted, one streetlight flickering
near us. I could see a couple of terrified people inside one of the bars, plastered against the window
watching what happened. “Where’s his friend?”
Beck shrugged. “He ran when you killed yours.”
“You didn’t follow?”
“Too busy making sure you don’t bleed to death, Red,” Beck said.
A moment later, we heard the pounding footsteps of three more Runners. Beck pulled me to my
feet and I groaned, clutching my ribcage with one hand. I rolled my shoulders back, using my own
gauze to wipe the rest of my face and my hands.
Shina turned the corner first, skidding to a stop to take in the dead vampire at my feet. Under the
streetlights, the tattoos on her face looked like intricate shadows as she surveyed me and Beck. Over
the two years I’d been Lead Runner, Shina had made it very clear she didn’t like how Beck and I
played with our prey. While she was a Runner, Shina held onto her Indigenous beliefs that all life was
sacred and worthy of protection. While vampires technically weren’t alive, she still believed they
deserved honorable, painless deaths. I controlled myself around her out of respect, though I preferred
to inflict pain when I hunted. While I knew Shina didn’t support the way I hunted, she was one of the
best Runners in the world and I trusted her.
Jonah jogged up behind her, his eyes roaming over the area for any signs of a remaining threat.
Tattoos spread over his midnight skin, peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirt and decorating
his arms. Jonah was undoubtedly stronger and faster than the rest of us, as big as a bear with the eyes
of a hawk. There was a bow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back, perfect for killing from a
distance. Though he was nearly twice my size, his kind nature meant he was also the first to follow
my authority. When he saw me and Beck standing together, a relieved smile spread over his face.
The pair was followed by a trailing, too-skinny blonde boy. I narrowed my eyes at Finley, who
looked utterly terrified. He’d been on the team for six months and was deadly with the knives he kept
in his belt, but he was still afraid of his own shadow. I’d chosen him hoping I could train the fear out
of him, but it never wavered. He was the same age as me, twenty-one, but he might as well have been
fifteen. He cowered behind Shina and Jonah as he padded up to take in the scene, one hand always on
a knife in his belt.
“I dialed the police, they’re sending a team to deal with the body,” Beck announced, bouncing
back and forth on the balls of their feet and grinning at the others. “Find anything good tonight?”
Shina spoke first. “No, seems like every block except this one was eerily quiet.”
“Let’s get Red back to the apartment and call a doctor to look at her chest,” Beck said.
I rolled my eyes, opening my mouth to argue. A sharp, echoing pain shot through my side and took
my breath away. I nodded finally, grumbling in agreement.
“Jonah and Finley can wait for the disposal team.” Beck pointed to the two Runners decisively.
“Fine, but don’t let Red eat the whole pizza,” Jonah laughed, his deep voice echoing through the
empty street.
I grinned. “I make no promises. Death makes me hungry.”
Jonah rolled his eyes, and I shook hands with him and Finley before the rest of us walked away.

OUR APARTMENT WAS SMALL, barely big enough to fit all five of us. I remembered the first time I’d
walked into it. I made an obnoxious comment to Milo about how the Runner Institution could
definitely afford to put us up somewhere nicer than this dump in Brooklyn. But as the years passed, it
didn’t bother me so much. Other than being small, it was pristinely clean, the doors and windows
locked, and we always had power and running water.
There were only three bedrooms. As Lead Runner, I got my own room, the furthest down the thin
hallway. Jonah and Finley shared a room, and Shina and Beck slept across from them. The living
room had enough space for a couch to fit all of us, with an additional sofa chair and a fireplace. The
kitchen was small, but Shina was the only one who did any cooking anyway. In the corner next to the
window, there was a hospital bed, given to us by the city. Runners tended to spend a lot of time
injured, and the hospital didn’t have the resources or the time to deal with us every night. There were
a few nurses who were specifically trained to treat Runners and they checked on us when we
requested help.
 I lay back on the bed, eyes closed as a nurse stitched up the gash on my forehead. I’d been given a
pretty hefty dose of painkillers that dulled the ache in my chest. I was furious that the vampire had
broken my ribs. Usually, I was careful enough to avoid kicks like that. This injury would take an
average Runner out of the field for a couple of weeks. I’d rest for a few days, then get back to work. I
didn’t have the patience to sit on the sidelines.
I opened my eyes to admire the pretty ring I’d stolen from the dead vampire. It was a thick, gaudy
gold band with a large emerald and a small letter “C” intricately inscribed on the inside of the band.
“Beck,” I called tiredly. They looked up from their laptop, blinking when a strand of bleached
hair fell into their face. Last week, in a fit of rage, Beck had chopped off their beautiful locks of
brown hair and bleached it. Now it was in a short bob, constantly falling into their face. I tossed them
the ring, much to the dismay of my nurse, who grumbled that I should stay still. “Know anything about
the inscription?”
Beck turned the ring over and over in their hand, thinking. Beck was an expert on vampire history
and mythology; they had a master’s degree in it. They were a couple years older than I was and
shared the same hatred for vampires I did. It was why we got along so well and the reason they were
my second-in-command.
“I’ll look into it. Can I keep this?”
“I want it back when you know more. It’s pretty.”
“You and your trophies.”
“Done.” My nurse stood straight, narrowing her eyes as she looked at her work. “Promise me
you’ll take it easy, Miss Ashburn.”
I promised, crossing my fingers behind my back.
As soon as she left, I jumped from the cot, skipping across the apartment to grab a slice of pizza. I
wolfed down an entire piece in a couple of bites and reached for another one. It was probably a good
thing that the city paid for all of our living expenses, including food, because we could eat a lot. All
of us spent several hours a day at the gym, only to spend all night out running and hunting. Shina,
sitting at the counter with her laptop, had pizza next to her but was also munching on some sort of
dried salmon her mother had brought when she visited recently. She tossed me a piece and I gnawed
on it happily.
“Red, you’re on the news!” Beck called.
I turned to look at the TV as Beck turned up the volume. Sure enough, there was a photo of me, all
red hair and dark gray eyes. A caption rolled across the bottom.
Phoenix Ashburn to Receive Award at Runner Convention in London
The newscaster talked through a list of my accomplishments, and I watched with a smirk. In my
first month as a Runner, I killed twenty-three vampires, a world record. There were now twenty-three
X’s tattooed down my spine, a tradition for Runners. They estimated my kill count to be in the high
hundreds. I was more than positive it was actually in the thousands. Because of me, humans could
walk at night safely. They could go to see a late movie and not have to sprint to their car to avoid
being killed by a vampire. I couldn’t protect people from mortal monsters, but I could do this.
“Are we going to London?” Shina piped up.
I held up my hand to quiet her as another headline flashed on the screen.
Phoenix Ashburn Kills Coven Monarch Rhys Montagne
There was footage from tonight, a shaky video of the moment I landed a roundhouse kick to the
vampire’s chest and pounced on him like an angel of death the instant he toppled backwards. The
footage forwarded through the minute or two I toyed with him, but I recognized the glint of my blade
on his throat. The video was blurred the moment I killed him and rolled off into Beck’s waiting arms.
With each passing moment, dread curdled in my stomach.
A picture of the vampire was shown on the screen next; he was dressed in an expensive suit and
standing next to a dark-skinned woman in a silky green dress. My eyes fell to the ring on his pinky,
raising back to the screen when they showed a close up of his face.
“Rhys Montagne was the long-time Heir to the Coven, but it seems he fell into the wrong hands
tonight. Remaining Coven Monarchs Stella Khatri and Dorian Sterling have yet to make a statement.”
The newscaster almost looked worried. “What will this mean for legendary Runner Phoenix
Ashburn? Has she put a target on her own back? Only time will tell.”
The screen blacked out.
Silence.
Beck spoke first, “Phoenix, what have you done?”
 Chapter 3

T he sun had risen hours ago. I sat in the middle of the living room with four tired and frustrated
Runners. I twisted the golden ring on my finger, looking down at Beck’s laptop. Every few
minutes, Shina or Jonah would glance at me in annoyance. Beck demanded to know what I’d
done - but I didn’t have any answers for them. I hadn’t taken a moment to look at who the vampire
was. There was only one thought in my mind - kill him.
The Coven was the strongest congregation of vampires in the world. Right now, there were
several hundred active members of the Coven, mostly rich socialite vampires with something to hide
- the Coven offered them a sort of diplomatic immunity in the vampire world. They were led by a trio
of Monarchs - the Master, the Heir, and the Successor. The Coven Monarchs were supposed to be
untouchable. Most Runners would never come across any of them during their career, and the ones
who did never survived.
My stomach sat like a boulder in my throat as Shina said there were only four other times in
history a Runner had killed a Coven Monarch. Each time, the Coven Monarchs hunted down and
slaughtered the entire Runner team.
I could feel my team panicking as we picked through bits and pieces of information. I was trying
to focus on Beck’s analysis of why it was always the Heir who was killed by Runners. Stella Khatri,
the Successor, had stood in her role so long she predated written Coven records. Pictures and
paintings of her spanned centuries and she never changed. She was short and petite, with dark brown
skin and long silky brown hair. Oftentimes, she was seen in magnificent dresses, always smiling.
There was death behind her smile, always.
The Master, Dorian Sterling, had ruled the Coven for eight centuries after a successful coup of the
previous Master. There was no information online about the coup, or what led to it, but it was the first
and only coup in Coven history. There were a few paintings and drawings from centuries ago -
depicting the Master with pale skin and dark hair, always dressed in black.
Shina passed me her phone. It was a video of Stella Khatri from a few years ago. There was a
disclaimer at the bottom warning about graphic content. I watched Stella stumble out of a bar, Rhys
Montagne on her arm. He was laughing, and she looked incredibly drunk and delirious. She turned to
point at someone inside the door, shaking her head, but the video didn’t show who she was talking to.
A black car pulled up in front of them, and Rhys let go of Stella to open the door.
A group of men staggered out of the bar. I predicted what would happen before it did. One of them
whistled at Stella and made a vulgar gesture - his friends cheered him on as he detached from the
group and made the gesture again.
The Coven Successor’s smile faded.
She stood straight, her demeanor going from sweet and silly to deadly in half a second. With one
fluid movement, she snapped the neck of the human man who had disrespected her. Chaos ensued; the
friends tried to run. Stella stepped over the body of the first victim, grabbing her second, an innocent
trying to leave the bar at the wrong time. I watched her sink her teeth into his throat, tearing and
ripping. Blood sprayed on the floor, and when Stella looked up, she was covered in it.
She looked directly at the camera and smiled.
Then she followed Rhys Montagne into the car and the video cut off.
“Fucking hell,” Jonah murmured behind me.
“You can say that again,” Shina echoed.
“I didn’t know,” I sighed, burying my face in my hands in frustration. I hissed when my fingers
brushed the stitches on my forehead.
“Would it have changed the outcome?” Jonah asked.
I looked up at him. “What do you mean?”
“If you knew who he was, would you have killed him anyway?”
“Yes.”
There was an audible squeak from Finley.
Beck shook their head, rubbing their bottom lip. “What’s done is done, let’s get some rest and
deal with it tonight.”
I sat still while each of my Runners packed up their things and walked with each other down the
hall.
I’d killed a Coven Monarch.
I’d killed one of the most powerful vampires in the world, and it had been… easy.
A smile pulled at my lips once I was alone, and I looked around at the books and papers spread
open with information about the Coven. Granted, Rhys Montagne had been stronger and faster than the
average vampire I found in Brooklyn. Vampires grew more powerful with age- faster, stronger, and
smarter too. Older vampires didn’t linger in the streets where Runners could find them. I wondered if
Rhys had been looking for a fight. He’d gotten one and lost his life to his idiocy. It had only taken a
few minutes to kill him.
I picked up a print of a painting depicting the Coven Monarchy in the fourteenth century. There
was a different Heir, a pale girl in between the legendary figures on the outside, but she didn’t matter
to me. I looked at Stella Khatri, smiling as she lounged on a golden throne, and then at Dorian Sterling
next to her, whose facial features were slightly blurred.
They’d come for me. I was sure of it.
I wondered if they’d be as easy to kill as Rhys was.

I WOKE to my alarm before sunset, sucking in a deep breath before I remembered I had two broken
ribs. I groaned, clutching my chest as I sat up and slithered out of bed. I took in the sight of myself in
the mirror: my flame red hair was a mess on top of my head, a bruise dark on my cheek, and somehow
blood was still caked on my shoulder.
 Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled my shirt over my head. I let it fall to the ground with a sob of
pain, shimmying out of the rest of my clothes and walking into my bathroom. Undressed, I surveyed
the bruises littering my torso and legs. It wasn’t the first night I’d woken up like this, it was a part of
the job, but I could feel worry setting into my bones. What would the repercussions of killing Rhys
Montagne be? I took off the golden ring I’d kept as a trophy, setting it on the counter as I stepped into
the shower.
I showered in hot water, sitting on the ground and letting water run over me. I washed my hair
with one hand, clutching my chest with the other. When I was finished, it took me a long time to get
dressed. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, but I so desperately wanted to go running tonight. I bit
down on my tongue to hide the pain. I strapped on my belt and laced up my boots, grumbling when I
couldn’t lift both arms over my head to pull my hair back.
Instead I rolled my shoulders back and left my room.
Shina and Beck were in the kitchen.
“I need one of you to braid my hair,” I grumbled, placing one hand on my chest as I struggled to
breathe evenly.
Shina volunteered, sitting me down at a barstool and brushing through my hair.
“You shouldn’t go out tonight, Red,” Beck said.
“I can’t leave you all on your own.”
They stared at me, their ice blue eyes sad. “If anything happens, you fall back and leave it to us.
No splitting up tonight.”
I agreed.
“I did some research on Rhys Montagne and Coven Heirs.”
I nodded once, accepting the cup of coffee Beck offered before they settled into the barstool next
to me. They opened their laptop again, pushing it towards me so I could read through the notes they’d
taken. Rhys had been the Coven Heir for over a century. For the most part, he stayed out of the
limelight, unlike his counterpart Stella Khatri. Other Heirs had lasted longer than he had, but barely. It
seemed the Coven Master had very little patience for those who weren’t valuable to him; reports
showed he killed three of them himself.
Rhys was wealthy. I wondered if that was why he was the Heir. Surely, it hadn’t been because he
was dangerous. He was a fool. I scrolled through pages of notes Beck compiled, some on the
Successor and theories on how she’d kept her role for so long. The only reports on Dorian Sterling,
the Master, were dark. His reign was long and merciless.
Beck shared a photo from the mid-1950s of Dorian Sterling standing next to the Queen of England.
She was staring triumphantly at the camera, and he looked devious, his fangs on full display for the
media. There was another photo of them shaking hands.
I looked at a suspected painting of Stella Khatri at Versailles and a sketch of her nursing a soldier
back to health in World War II. There was a photo of Dorian Sterling stepping off a plane in Italy a
few years ago, accompanied by a news article about the Coven announcing their partnership with a
large multinational software company.
I closed the laptop, pushing it away.
“Did you call your mom this week?” Shina changed the subject, nudging me gently.
“No.”
“You should call her. You need to check on your dad too, Beck.”
Beck made a gagging noise.
Shina shook her head in amusement. Beck and I grinned at each other.
 Finley and Jonah joined us a few minutes later and we all ate breakfast together before preparing
to go out for the night. All of them watched me unwaveringly while I gave out orders from my
barstool, relaying the plan for tonight. My Runners were worried, I could see it clear on their faces. I
wasn’t sure what I was feeling yet, but I knew it wasn’t fear. It felt a little more like determination.
I led the way into the night.
 Chapter 4

I wiped blood off of my hands before reaching into my back pocket to pull out my phone and
answer the call. Beneath me, the dead vampire was turning gray and ashy - a mummified shadow
of the beautifully deadly creature they’d been moments ago.
“Ashburn.” I pressed the phone to my ear, standing and stepping away.
“Hi, Phoenix.” I paused when I heard my younger sister Abigail's voice on the other end of the
line.
I cleared my throat, snapping at Beck and Shina to take care of the dead vampire as I backed
away. “Hey, kid. What’s up?”
“Not much, Mom said I should call you.”
“Probably because she doesn’t want to call me herself.” I rolled my eyes, suppressing my
annoyance the best I could. Mom never called me unless she was in the same room as Abigail, the
golden child. Even though Abigail had followed in my footsteps to become a Runner, she wasn’t
filled with anger like I was. She didn’t want revenge. She wanted to do good. Our mother preferred
her kind company to mine.
“Are you working?”
“I’m always working.”
“I saw you on the news. You killed a Coven vampire?” She sounded worried.
“That’s still on the news?” I tried to play it cool, but the continued media attention Rhys
Montagne’s death was getting unnerved me. It had been nearly a week and the fickle news sources
hadn’t found anything else to talk about. The Coven had not released a statement, and neither had I,
despite how many news stations reached out to me for it. I had nothing to say. I was doing my job.
He’d picked the wrong Runner to attack.
“Yeah, Mom’s worried.”
“Tell her not to be. I’m fine.”
“Red, we’re hungry!” Jonah whined behind me.
“Abigail, I have to go. I’m in the middle of a run.”
I hung up before she could say anything else, shoving my phone in my pocket. Every time I talked
to my sister or mother, I was reminded that I wasn’t like them. They were softer than me and they
tended to worry more than they should. I didn’t have time to ease their concern, I was working. I
glanced up at the red and blue lights as a police car approached to deal with the vampire’s body. I
pulled my wooden stake out of it’s chest and nodded to the officer before motioning for my team to
follow me.
“Can we get pizza?” Beck chirped, jumping up and down like a child.
“No.”
“Ramen?”
“No.”
“What can we eat then? I’m starving.” Jonah piped up.
“Tacos!” Shina yelled.
I pointed to Shina excitedly. “I want tacos too.”
Everyone laughed. In the last week or so, the initial paranoia of potentially being a Coven target
had begun to diminish. We’d gone out on runs every night, killed nine vampires this week, and the
Coven hadn’t made a peep. We’d started falling back into our regular routine, and I was confident
Shina and I could attend the Runner Conference in London in two days without incident.
Over four hundred Runners from around the world were expected to be in attendance. It was the
event of the year. Exceptional Runners were gifted awards while we all swapped tricks, secrets, and
success stories. Some Runners even brought their families, though I wasn’t one of them. My family
was not proud of who I’d become, but I was.
I’d chosen Shina to accompany me to London because she seemed the steadiest out of any of them.
I didn’t want to be at this Runner Conference, shaking hands and kissing babies, but they were giving
me an award and a generous sum of money to my team, so we had to be there to make a good
impression. Shina was excellent at socializing; she was softer against my hard exterior.
Beck could handle things at home until we returned.

RELIEF FLOODED through me when the plane touched down in London. Next to me, Shina blinked
herself awake, having snored through the entire plane ride. I’d sat stiffly, staring out the window and
trying to breathe through the pain that pulsed through my chest every time I moved.
Shina and I grabbed our carry-ons from the overhead compartments and walked next to each other
out of the airport. A few news stations had anticipated my arrival and snapped photos and videos
while we walked, but we ignored them. I walked one step in front of her and kept my eyes straight
forward at all times. I noticed Shina tense when one of them asked me what I planned to do about the
Coven placing a target on my back. I ignored them and kept walking.
I slipped into the taxi with Shina and was grateful for the sudden silence, letting out an
exasperated breath.
“Tonight’s going to be so much worse,” Shina huffed, running her fingers through her hair.
I groaned.
Shina nudged my shoulder in reassurance. “You’ve got this, Red. Think of the shiny award with
your name on it.”
I leaned back in my seat. “It’s tough to be a god.”
Shina burst into laughter, and I joined her weakly.
S IX HOURS LATER, I was dressed in a midnight blue gown that weighed heavily on my aching ribs.
Shina had curled my hair and it fell elegantly over my shoulders. I’d done a full face of makeup,
another rare occurrence. I barely looked like the Runner everyone knew so well, except for the
dagger strapped to one thigh and a stake on the other.
Shina had undergone a complete makeover too. She wore a beautiful black gown, and a stunning
shawl her mother had made her out of fox fur. She’d fixed her hair in two long braids and wore
golden earrings and lip gloss. She grinned uncontrollably as our taxi pulled up to the venue.
Outside, there were already hundreds of cameras and vultures waiting for their photo and a
moment to speak to real Runners. They didn’t even know who was in the car yet. While nearly every
city had a Runner team, not many civilians actually interacted with them. Runners worked only at
night and didn’t have time for many of the social games civilians loved to play. Some people were
against the Runner Institution altogether, claiming the practice was archaic and unnecessary. None of
those people were here tonight. This would be a room full of admirers and dreamers.
I smirked as the taxi rolled to a stop. Shina moved first, turning the handle and shooting me a look
asking for permission to go. I gave it and she stood out of the taxi with a dazzling smile. The crowd
erupted. I waited inside, watching the cameras light up the whole world for a moment, the cheers and
calls growing deafening. They knew Shina was a part of my Runner team. They knew I was the next
one out of the car.
I slid along the seat, handing the taxi driver his payment plus a large bonus before standing. A
thick wave of hot air rushed over me, and I blinked against the blinding camera flashes. I reminded
myself to smile. My ribcage ached as I straightened next to Shina and shoved the door shut. We stood
together for photos. A small man with a clipboard detached from the crowd looking quite flustered.
“Shina Ayek and Phoenix Ashburn?” He gasped, breathless.
Shina nodded. He gave us both glittering gold pins and motioned us inside, apologizing profusely
for the media. I stepped in front of Shina, putting on my best danger face and leading the way. The
crowd parted like butter. I hid my smile until we were inside. Shina gave me a high five and I led the
way through the winding hallways into the reception hall, pausing to shake hands with each of the
guards at the door.
“Pleased to have you here, Miss Ashburn,” one of them said dreamily.
I stepped inside, ignoring them, and tried to hide my surprise.
There were hundreds of Runners here, from every corner of the world. The room was filled with
every gender and race, a colorful collection of souls like mine - souls who wanted justice, vengeance,
and glory.
Almost immediately, we found ourselves swept up in a conversation on the politics of using guns
and wooden bullets to kill vampires. They were a new introduction to the Runner armory and were
quite controversial. There was a large margin for error, especially when killing from a distance.
Many thought guns were too American and modern warfare shouldn’t be brought into the precise hunt
between Runners and vampires. Personally, I found them revolting because they made the job too
easy. It was impersonal. With a gun, I couldn’t feel the vampire’s pulse fade as I killed them.
The evening passed in a flurry of conversations like this. Strangers asked my opinion on trivial
matters I couldn’t care less about but seemed grateful when I offered my insight. Kind faces offered
me glasses of champagne and callused hands shook mine. I laughed with other Runners about the
wounds we all suffered from in some form or another. Others compared how many tally marks they
had tattooed on their backs, though that conversation fell eerily silent when I sauntered in.
No one had as many tally marks as I did. No one in this room was as accomplished of a Runner as
I was, and I basked in that glory for the entire evening.
I put on a charade of humble appreciation when I accepted my award, thanking my team and the
instructors I never thought about. I told a brief story of how I ended up where I was, and subtly
remarked that I never backed down from a challenge. I didn’t mention the Coven directly, but I
watched the room tense when I glossed over them. I wanted them to know I wasn’t afraid.
After my speech, I returned to sit with Shina, who offered me a knuckle bump under the table. I
beamed beneath the adoration of the room, reaching for another glass of champagne and grinning
through the rest of the ceremony. A few other Runners received awards; a couple gave speeches.
At the afterparty at a bar nearby, I danced with strangers and laughed with them. Several glasses
of champagne and tequila shots made it easy to forget about the pain from my broken ribs. Shina got
lost in the crowd, though sometimes I caught her dancing with a boy or standing in the shadows with a
girl. Every once and a while, we’d find each other to ensure we were both safe.
Tonight was a night to celebrate Runners. There weren’t many like this.
Other people, normal people, got time off - evenings and weekends and vacations. They had lives
outside of their work and holidays to spend with their families. Most Runners gave up their families
to become what they were today. We didn’t get breaks because vampires never took nights off from
killing people. We deserved to live tonight.
Until someone screamed.
 Chapter 5

I n a room full of trained hunters, our reaction was instantaneous. The second scream split through
the air and we were all on high alert despite the incredible amount of alcohol in most of our
systems. Half of us reached for our weapons, the other half looked for the exits. I pulled my
dagger from its sheath and spun it in my hand, looking around the room until I located Shina. She
stood a dozen feet from me, next to a handsome Runner boy who had his hand on her waist.
An obscene amount of blood was splattered across the front window of the bar. A couple Runners
backed away, one of them gagging, but I pushed forward to inspect what they’d found. My stomach
churned as I took in the sight of the Runner in what was once a glittering white dress. Her tongue had
been torn out and her throat pulverized. I walked forward until my heels dipped into the puddle of her
blood, sucking in a breath. Anger pulsed through me as I looked at the girl. She was probably only
seventeen or eighteen. I’d met her earlier, she’d told me how much she admired me. She was nice and
now she was dead.
I realized everyone in the room was watching me. Silence had descended upon the room; I turned
to face dozens of pairs of eyes - all of them waiting for me. My horror transformed into anger. A
vampire had done this in a room full of Runners and no one had seen a thing; this was no ordinary
vampire. They were fast and ruthless. I swallowed, suddenly having an inkling of who it could be.
“Find the vampires who did this,” I commanded. “Everyone in groups - no one goes alone. If you
can’t walk straight, you stay here. Someone call the police.”
Like a perfectly oiled machine, the room leapt to action, flowing out into the cold night air. I
kicked off my own heels, looking up as Shina jogged up to me.
“You’re in no state to go on a run,” she panted.
I motioned to the dead body behind me. “We have to.”
“There are at least a hundred Runners here, Phoenix. You’re drunk and injured.”
“Phoenix, will you join our group?” I turned to see a trio of Runners waiting behind me, eyes
hopeful.
“Phoenix isn’t running tonight,” Shina said before I could stop her.
I growled, glaring at her until I saw her chin tilt down in submission. Then, I turned to look at the
others with a grim smile. “I’d love to.”
I left Shina behind as I walked out with the group of Runners. Immediately, they fell into step
behind me, waiting for my instruction. I tried to swallow the satisfaction I felt, looking around and
watching dozens of drunken Runners argue on which way to go. The vampires would have gone the
path of least resistance. They would have travelled through the dark. Silently, I raised my hand and
beckoned my group to slip down the back alley and out onto another parallel street.
While we walked, I spun my blade in my hand over and over again. Apparently, no one else
thought to come this way, at least not yet, and soon we were walking quietly down cobblestone
streets. London was quite busy, even for it being the middle of the night. People were laughing,
stumbling out of bars, couples in love whispered sweet nothings to each other, dogs barked, and
music played in the distance - it was exhilarating
“Help! Someone help me please!”
I’d heard enough screams to recognize the fake one even before I turned towards the sound. The
other Runners didn’t notice. They all spun towards the noise in unison, their desire to serve and
protect roaring within them. My eyes found the girl in a bright red dress, clutching her stomach. She
was barefoot, and there was blood coating her neck and arms, soaked into the front of her dress. I
couldn’t see her face from here, but could hear her false sobs - an octave too high to be real. The
dress gave her away, though. It was in pristine condition - no scuffs or rips. Her hair was perfect.
She was laying out a trap.
A couple civilians stopped to stare, a few pulled out their phones to call someone or record - but
as soon as they saw the Runner team, they stopped. People trusted Runners and continued on with
their lives as usual.
“Wait-” I blurted, reaching for the Runners.
This wasn’t my team; they weren’t trained to wait for my command. They’d already begun to
move forward, desperate to help the damsel that wasn’t in distress. Panic coursed through me as I
watched the scene unfold. Civilians were backing away, going inside because they were reassured by
Runners. Meanwhile, three of them were walking into a trap. I raised my dagger, spinning it once in
my hand and praying I could aim well enough once I had the opportunity.
The vampire moved with lightning speed. I watched one, then two Runners fall dead at her feet.
People were screaming now. It was only a matter of time before the police arrived and the
vampire would run.
I let my blade fly. It sank into her shoulder before she could kill the third Runner. She let out a
roar of pain, spinning towards me with a wide, bloody grin. As she did, she grabbed the last Runner
by their hair, forcing them to kneel at her feet. “Hello, Phoenix.”
I ripped my stake from its strap, preparing for a fight that never came. Instead, I looked up to meet
the eyes of a vampire I recognized instantly.
Stella Khatri.
The Coven Successor smiled as she tilted the Runner’s head back, kneeling down next to them. I
gulped, eyeing her red-stained fangs. The blood coating her face and dress belonged to the Runner in
white. The Runner at her feet was calling my name, begging me to save them, but I was frozen in
place. The Coven had found me. An ocean away from my home, in a city where I had nowhere to run,
it seemed they’d laid a trap for me. I’d suspected as much back at the bar, but now I realized I’d
walked right into their game. Stella mouthed along with them, teasing. Her eyes were wide with
excitement. Slowly, she pulled my blade out of her shoulder, tossing it back to me. It clattered on the
cobblestone.
I didn’t move to take it.
Again, the Runner whose name I didn’t know screamed for me to save them.
“Come on, Red, I’ll even make it a fair fight.”
 She snapped the Runner’s neck.
I didn’t watch them fall. Instead, I skidded across the ground for my knife as Stella Khatri lunged
forward. I slid beneath her, narrowly avoiding her nails, which were sharpened into claws. She
moved like a cat, quick and graceful, almost too fast for me to keep track of.
Almost.
After all, I was Phoenix Ashburn.
I landed two swipes of the blade across her arm before she managed to get her claws across my
front. Lucky for me, I was wearing bandages beneath this thick dress, and she didn’t touch my skin.
Still, Stella was hundreds, if not thousands of years old, and I was only a human girl with so much
energy and a lot of tequila in her system. I barely dodged her claws on my face, but I slipped on water
and fell to the cold, hard ground. Stella pounced, and I used my knife to keep her from coming too
close.
Her claws raked down my arms, and my own blood splattered on my face from the impact. I
snarled, kicking up with one knee to force her off of me. I dug the blade into her shoulder and forced
her back onto the ground, reaching back for my stake.
I was going to kill her, and I was going to enjoy it.
Stella was faster.
The second my hand closed around my stake, she shoved me backwards. I stumbled weakly, my
chest heaving in pain as I rolled and moved to fend off her attack. Then she stopped. I paused,
watching her incline her chin in what seemed like obedience and step back from me. Just as I raised
both of my weapons again, I heard the footsteps behind me- firm, slow, deliberate.
Stella cackled like a madwoman.
Confident she was no longer a threat, I turned slowly.
The Master.
Dorian Sterling was younger than I expected him to look. He was dressed in an expensive black
suit and his dark brown hair was perfectly combed back, his face clean shaven and entirely
emotionless. I fought the urge to cower beneath the weight of his gaze. When his hands fell from
where he held them behind his back, I noticed almost every finger had a ring on it. Most of them were
silver, but the golden ring on his pinky matched the one I still wore triumphantly on my index. One
look and I realized he didn’t have a single weapon on him; he didn’t need one. He was like a Greek
god reincarnated, not a stitch or a hair out of place, death and darkness rolling off him in waves. The
air around him seemed colder and thinner; I struggled to take a breath. He walked until he was
directly in front of me.
I stood slowly from where I’d been crouched, inclining my chin as I faced death. “Nice night for a
stroll, Mr. Sterling?”
A muscle in his forehead twitched and he licked his lips, but it was another moment before he
said anything. “You’ve taken something of mine, Miss Ashburn.”
“Oh?” My hand tightened on my blade, and I itched to use it. “And what was that?”
I had begun playing with darkness and it felt oh, so good.
Dorian ignored my coy question, his eyes burning into mine. “Usually, I cut off the hands of
thieves. I tear out the hearts of murderers.”
Chills ran down my spine. He could undoubtedly hear my heart galloping in my chest, but I kept
my expression even. “Why their hearts?”
“Aren’t all murders crimes of passion?”
I hummed. “Fair enough.”
 Then I drove my blade forward into his stomach. He jerked in surprise, and when he opened his
mouth, blood leaked out. Frantically, I shoved my stake forward to join my knife, watching him fall to
his knees with a soft gurgle.
Then, for the first time in my life, I ran from a fight.
 Chapter 6

I n my years as a Runner, I’d killed well over a thousand vampires. Their populations were
overwhelming in places like New York City, so I’d gotten used to seeing them every night. I
knew how to tell them apart from a crowd; I knew what made them tick and I knew what made
them die. There weren’t a lot of vampires as old as the remaining Coven monarchs, and those that
were had a tendency to stay away from the streets where the Runners lurked. I’d found one, once, a
few months ago. I recognized her from the news; she was a New York socialite I found in the back of
a speakeasy. I killed her in minutes. Because of her, I thought older vampires were nothing special. I
was wrong.
I’d never encountered a vampire as terrifyingly magnificent as the Coven Master.
He emanated death and extravagance, and I longed to rinse myself after being in the same vicinity
of him. His eyes were forest green, but they’d seemed as endless as the night. He was terrible and
beautiful. I’d never been as afraid of a vampire as I was of him.
I’d put on a bravado in front of him because I was sure he was going to try to kill me, and I
refused to die on my knees. Now I was running and the fear was creeping in.
I was only alive because he let me go.
My heart beat in my throat as I ran. I did not stop until I stumbled into the hotel. Blood smeared on
the elevator as I fell into it, clutching the railing as it rose to my floor. My bloodied dress dragged
behind me as I bolted down the hallway and banged on the door to my hotel room. I didn’t know
where my key had gone. I didn’t think to look.
The door flew open, and I came face to face with Shina. She grabbed onto my arm as I stumbled
into the room and slammed the door shut, my bloody hands fumbling with the lock. Shina tried to ask
me what was wrong, but I ignored her, spinning around and grabbing the nightstand from one side of
the bed and pulling it in front of the door. Only then did I sink to the ground with a sob of terror.
Shina pulled me into her arms, rocking me back and forth, alternating between soothing noises and
asking me what had happened. She reached to check my wounds and I flinched back away from her
like she’d burned me. I tried to tell her what happened a few times, but my heart was beating so fast. I
couldn’t speak, I could barely breathe. The world was spinning in circles around me, faster and faster
until the whole world was a kaleidoscope of black and white and red.
Shina had to cut me out of my dress and forced me into a hot bath, cleaning out my wounds while I
trembled. I watched my blood seep into the water and realized the claw marks Stella Khatri left in my
arms were gaping and would need stitches.
Eventually, I managed a small whisper. “He was horrible.”
The Master was the worst vampire I’d ever encountered. He should have caught and killed me
two seconds after I drove my blade into his stomach. If not him, then Stella. It was a risk I took when I
stabbed him, but the damage was supposed to be just enough to grant me some distance between us. I
didn’t know what my plan was supposed to be, only that I needed to get away from him.
I’d made it all the way back to the hotel alive because they let me live.
I’d been prepared to put up the fight of my life. I’d been waiting for the Coven to announce that
they wanted me dead- revenge for the death of their Heir. I expected vampires to come after me,
maybe out of loyalty or because there was a bounty placed on my head. I boosted up my team and
promised I’d protect them no matter what happened. I never expected to come face to face with the
Successor and Master themselves. I didn’t know if I could protect my team from them.
Why did they let me go?
I looked down at the open wounds along my arms, unsure whether they hurt more or less than my
broken ribs. My wrists would need stitches, but I couldn’t bear to think about that yet. Shina returned
to help me out of the bath and into a warm, dry pair of clothes. She wrapped my chest and my arms in
bandages and gave me pain medicine as I sat down on the edge of the bed and turned the TV on.
I sucked in a breath.
Four Runners Killed During Surprise Attack on Runner Convention
The headline was bright and bold across the screen, and they flashed through the names of the
Runners found dead. I flinched at the sight of the three of them that had died right in front of me, and
the girl in white whose death started it all. The newscaster talked on and on about the enormous
tragedy that occurred tonight, and how they’d received word I was safe. I thought Shina might have
called them and confirmed our presence. Shina watched solemnly next to me, and I pulled the blankets
to my chest.
The news said nothing about the Coven.
I slumped against the pillows.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Shina turned to look at me. She looked calm, but I
knew there was anger behind the perfect facade on her face. She knew I was hiding something.
I looked at her, opening my mouth a few times with the intention of telling her everything. She was
a member of my team, she deserved to know what was going on. She could keep me safe. But the
words didn’t come. Instead, I said, “No.”
I turned out the lights.

S HINA ASKED IN THE MORNING .

She asked again on the ride to the airport.
She asked on the plane.
Then she stopped talking altogether.
I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes straight forward until we were home. I wanted to tell her who
found me and what I saw. I longed to express my confusion and my terror at being left alive by the
most powerful vampires in the world.
She deserved to know.
 My team deserved to know.
Still, I said nothing.
When I shook hands weakly with each team member upon arriving home, I repeated exactly what
the news had already said. I lied, created a scenario where a couple of vampires ambushed me and
my team - killing them all and leaving me to bleed. I created a beautiful tale: they left me alive to
make an example of me. Who better to send a message than Phoenix Ashburn? Besides, my wounds
were deep enough- I could barely hold onto a knife, let alone do enough damage to a vampire. The
story was believable. I kept the memory of the Master buried deep within me.
Days passed, and I edged closer to daring myself to take on a challenge. My team banned me from
running and practically locked me in the apartment. While my mind spun in circles, thinking up games
to play and wars to win against the Coven, my body healed.
When I was alone, I replayed the moment I turned to see the Master walking up behind me. I
sorted through my shock, and my terror, and transformed it into fascination. The man was eight
hundred years old, yet he barely looked a day over twenty-five, except for his eyes. His eyes betrayed
centuries of darkness.
He’d fallen for my trick. The easiest trick in my book and he’d stepped right into it. I knew he’d
be back for me.
The game had begun.
 Chapter 7

I t was two more weeks before I went out on another run with my team. When the time came, I was
a wild animal who had been caged for too long. I jogged out of the apartment with a hoot and a
holler, jumping in a circle and throwing my arms wide. There was still pain in my chest and my
arms were bandaged, but I wouldn’t let it stop me tonight. I frolicked next to Beck and Jonah,
listening to them chatter about their favorite superheroes.
God, I wanted to kill a vampire tonight.
Adrenaline coursed through me as I led the way through dimly lit streets, dancing to a symphony
only I could hear. I spun my blade in my hand, delighted by the click of my boots on the asphalt. We
passed a couple groups of civilians who watched us in wonder. Beck waved with a kind smile,
easing their curiosity and concern.
The Runner Conference was still all over the news - several teams across the world called for
justice for their lost team members. Their anger was justified, but futile. The media had no leads on
the vampires who did this, and I wasn’t about to damn myself. I was ready for a fight with the Coven,
but I wasn’t going to start it.
An hour or two passed without incident. I walked with my team through the streets and raced them
through parks. Beck practiced a new move with their whip, standing on high ground and doing a front
flip as the whip cracked through the air. Once, they did it to cut a soda can in half, ending with me and
Jonah cheering in delight.
We found our first vampire as they dug their teeth into a drunken man’s throat. Beck moved first,
cracking their whip and wrapping the tip of it around the vampire’s wrist. I stood back, watching
Jonah loose an arrow as the vampire turned on us. She roared in fury, pulling the arrow from her arm.
The drunk man fled.
Beck and Jonah both held back as I sauntered forward, tossing my knife in the air and catching it
again.
“Do you know who I am?” I smiled slowly.
The vampire scoffed. “You’re that Runner bitch, aren’t you?”
Amused, I pursed my lips. I didn’t care what she called me, as long as she knew my name. It
would be the last words out of her mouth. “I prefer the term legend, but bitch works too.”
In the same moment, Beck cracked their whip and Jonah released an arrow. The whip wrapped
around the vampire’s ankle, pulling her feet out from under her, and the arrow lodged itself in her
shoulder. I leapt forward, tackling her while her attention was divided. We tumbled to the ground
together, and then it was life or death. I avoided her fangs and she tried to avoid my blade.
She was a new vampire. The realization was a disappointment. She wasn’t much stronger or
faster than the average human. She struggled against my years of combat training, and when she finally
fell back onto the asphalt, tears welled in her eyes. I huffed in disappointment. I’d been hoping for
more of a challenge tonight.
“Please don’t kill me,” she stuttered.
I pinned her easily, watching her sob as I pressed the tip of my stake to her chest. “What’s my
name, sweetheart?”
She blubbered something incoherently.
“Say my name, and I’ll let you live.”
“Phoenix Ashburn.”
My stake sank into her chest, and she was dead a moment later.
I sat back, placing one hand on my aching chest. Glancing at my team, I nodded to see Jonah
already dialing for a clean-up team. Beck watched me with a triumphant smile. Pulling the stake from
the dead vampire’s chest, I wiped the blood off on her clothes, looking her over slowly. I searched
her pockets to find a phone and a wallet, nothing interesting. Then my eyes found the pretty pearl
necklace she was wearing, and my eyes lit up. I pulled it from her neck, wrapping it around mine
instead.
“I like that,” Beck gasped, looking at my new necklace. “Does she have another one by chance?”
“You can have the next one.”
We left the clean-up team to deal with the dead vampire, strolling through the streets with a
newfound vigor. I loved the feeling of vampire blood on my hands. As promised, I let Beck kill the
next one, though I wished I’d done it myself. This one was bigger, stronger, older. He put up quite the
fight with an incredible amount of rage. When Beck was done with him, his blood was splattered
across the windows of a shopping center and Beck wore his bandana.
We met up with Shina and Finley for dinner at our favorite late-night burger joint, stuffing our
faces until we were satisfied. Apparently, the others hadn’t had much luck at all, so we continued the
run as a group of five.
“I want Finley to take the next one,” I murmured to Beck. “You’ll back him up if things get dicey.”
They nodded.
It was an hour before dawn before we found our next vampire.
I held up my hand to stop my team from advancing, silently motioning Finley to continue on his
own. He gave me a terrified glance, but didn’t dare disobey orders. I stepped into the shadows at a
distance, itching to kill the vampire myself but knowing I should use this as a teaching moment.
Finley was safe. He had an entire team of Runners fanned out to help him if he needed it. I wanted
the kid to stop being afraid of his own shadow. He’d gone through the same training as the rest of us -
he was perfectly capable of handling this. At least, I hoped he was.
Finley tossed a small knife and ducked behind a trash bin. I suppressed a whoop of joy when it
sank into the vampire’s neck. The vampire spun around in fury and confusion. When his back was
turned, Finley tossed another knife. This one hit him in the ankle. The vampire fell hard. I smiled,
glancing at Beck, who was also watching proudly. Finley threw three more knives before the vampire
could stand up.
Then he made an error.
He reached for his stake before the vampire was completely incapacitated.
 I tensed, watching the vampire knock the stake out of the naive Runner’s hand. Finley should have
ducked, twisted his wrist in the vampire’s grip, or kicked him in the groin - anything to free himself.
He didn’t. Instead, every muscle in his body tensed up as he looked death in the face.
Annoyed, I motioned for Beck to help him, and the vampire was dead moments later.
I stepped out of the shadows, glaring at Finley. “What the hell was that?”
“Easy, Red,” Shina started.
I spun towards her furiously. “Stand down.”
Her eyes lowered.
I turned to Finely, eyes blazing as I looked at him and waited for an answer. He had the audacity
to look terrified, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Phoenix.”
“You had him,” I snapped. “You could have killed him easily. Why the hell didn’t you?” I didn’t
bother waiting for his excuse. I stood straight, licking my lips in disgust. “Shina, take him home.
Now.” While they turned to walk away, I spoke again. “The next vampire I offer you better die,
Finley, or your career as a Runner is over.”
He nodded.
I watched them go, gritting my teeth. Pathetic. He’d been on this team for six months. Once, I
thought I could train fear out of him and teach him to be one with his weapons. Tonight, I wasn’t so
sure.
I started to tell Jonah and Beck that I wanted one more vampire before the night was over when I
heard the clicking of heels on asphalt. Slowly, I turned, pulling my knife from my belt and looking
around until I saw the vampire approaching from across the street. She had her head down, but there
was no question, she was deliberately walking towards us.
Beck unfurled their whip. Jonah raised an arrow. Both of them waited for my command. It caught
in my throat when the vampire looked up with a smile.
Stella Khatri.
“Phoenix, darling, long time no see.”
 Chapter 8

S tella stopped in front of the vampire Beck had killed, and she pursed her lips in disgust as she
nudged him with the toe of her heel. Then she stepped over him like he was nothing but another
rock in the road, and her eyes settled back on me. She wore a lavender jumpsuit tonight, her hair
in perfect curls, her dark skin glowing under the lamplight. When her red lips parted, I could see
fangs in her mouth. She was one of the most beautiful vampires I’d ever seen - the deadliest weapon.
Beck and Jonah both glanced at me, and I remembered, with a lurch, what Stella had done to the
last Runners who tried to stop her. Dread boiled within me; I wouldn’t let the same thing happen to
my team. With a flick of my hand, I commanded them to lower their weapons. They did after a
moment’s hesitation, falling behind me obediently. I couldn’t risk looking at them again and facing
their questions. I kept my eyes on Stella, waiting.
“I wish I could say Rhys’ death was a tragedy, but the man was a terrible bore.” Stella stopped a
dozen paces away from me, her fanged smile glinting in the dim light.
“Now, Stella, dear, be kind.”
My blood ran cold. I went still, my eyes flicking to the left to watch Dorian Sterling emerge from
the shadows as if he was made from them. He was dressed in all black again - a stark contrast to
Stella’s colorful clothing. He looked like the angel of death, walking slowly to stand a few feet from
Stella. My eyes trailed to the blade in his hand - one of Finley’s that had been thrown too far. Foolish
boy.
“I want to kill her,” Stella said when Dorian stopped next to her.
I watched them carefully. She was older than him and had been in the Coven so much longer. Next
to him, though, she was nothing. He was the grim reaper, and she was only a banshee. Like my
Runners bowed to me, she answered to him.
Dorian inclined his chin, a smirk playing on his lips. I didn’t look at Stella anymore, I watched
him. Compared to him, Stella was nothing but a tick easily squashed.
Two flicks of the fingers on my right hand; Jonah and Beck obediently raised their weapons again.
I did not give them permission to attack.
Stella cackled. The Master’s expression didn’t change.
“Cat got your tongue, Miss Ashburn?” Finally, Dorian spoke again, his voice as smooth as silk
and musical as a dark symphony.
If I let Jonah or Beck release their weapons, they’d be dead instantly. If I tried to send them away,
it would make this worse. They’d never leave me here alone to die. I’d found myself at a fork in the
road, wondering whether to play this game or save my team. The Coven had followed me home from
London, as I expected. Now it was war.
Slowly, I licked my lips and straightened. “I can speak just fine, Mr. Sterling.”
Beck’s breath caught in their throat as the pieces of the puzzle clicked together in their head. They
took a small step backwards and lowered their whip.
“Perfect.” The Master’s smirk grew. His eyes trailed over my Runners. “If either of you think
about moving, I’ll rip your tongues from your throat.”
I growled deeply.
I held my hand behind my back, crossing fingers and Beck pressed their whip into my hand
without question. I motioned for Jonah to lower his weapon, and I trailed the whip on the ground,
letting it skid around the front of me like a tail.
I met the Master’s green-eyed gaze again, inclining my chin. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Phoenix,” Beck gasped.
I took a single step forward. Stella hissed in warning, but Dorian only watched me evenly.
Another step, and a third, until there were ten steps between me and my Runners. I moved before the
Coven Monarchs could see the move I calculated. With one fluid movement, I snapped the whip,
wrapping it around Stella Khatri’s neck. I tossed my knife and watched it land in Dorian Sterling’s
chest- a little to the right of his heart. He dropped to one knee with a gasp, and I snapped the whip
again, this time wrapping it around his throat. His blood splattered on the ground, a delicious sight.
Stella leapt behind me. I let her force me to my knees, I wanted to know what they had planned. I
longed to be so close to death I could taste it, knowing I’d get away. I was Phoenix Ashburn, and they
were only vampires. The whip fell from my hand, and I heard Jonah call my name in terror.
Dorian Sterling stood. With a flick of his wrist, the small blade he’d held in his hand lodged itself
in Beck’s stomach. I growled in fury, pulling against Stella’s grip. Beck fell into Jonah’s arms, and I
glared as Dorian pulled the second blade from his chest, watching his own blood drip down the hilt.
He walked forward slowly, using the tip of the blade to tilt my chin up. “We’re going to have so
much fun together, Miss Ashburn.”
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, I’m a riot. You, on the other hand, need to smile more.”
Dorian licked his lips, kneeling down in front of me. I’d made a mistake, allowing myself to be
pinned here and my heart dropped to my stomach when I watched him twist the knife in his hand. I
thrashed against Stella, who was holding me by my throat. “No, Miss Ashburn. I think it’s you who
needs to smile.”
I screamed when he dragged the blade across my face.

I WOKE up to excruciating pain, splayed out on the cold asphalt. Immediately, I sobbed, feeling the
burn of wounds on my face. My stomach did a few summersaults as I struggled to push myself into a
sitting position. My tears burned like hellfire as they leaked into the wounds on my cheeks. Fingers
slippery with blood, I pulled my phone from its pouch on my belt and held it up in front of my face.
If I could have screamed, I might have never stopped.
He’d carved a smile on my cheeks. Blood had poured down my face, and the wounds were
crusted over with dirt and dried blood. I dropped the phone, watching it crack on the sidewalk as I
battled against the urge to scream and the vomit rising in my stomach.
Beck and Jonah. I looked up suddenly, my head swimming from blood loss as I tried to find my
team members. I saw Beck first, bleach blonde hair stark against the sidewalk. They were laying face
down and there was blood near their arm. They were too far away for me to tell if they were alive.
Jonah lay behind them. My eyes burned with tears as I looked up at the rising sun. We had to get out of
here before civilians saw this.
I couldn’t call the police; I couldn’t even open my mouth.
My eyes settled on my knife, discarded at my feet, and a horrifying idea crept into my mind. I
crawled towards it, delicately picking it up and suppressing the urge to vomit again. Undoubtedly,
most of the blood on the knife was probably mine, but I’d also shoved it into the Master’s stomach, so
his blood would be on it too.
Vampire blood had healing properties. It was illegal for Runners to use vampire blood to cure
their wounds, but I wasn’t sure I had a choice. No one could see me like this.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I forced my mouth open and ran my tongue along the hilt. I
gagged at the taste, tears streaming down my face at the disgust and agony I felt. I didn’t care how
disgusting it tasted - I needed the pain to stop. I wasn’t sure it would work; there might not have been
any vampire blood left on there at all. I licked the hilt clean, blood pouring from the opening wound
in my face.
The wound began to tingle.
Shock and horror flooded through me, and I scrambled towards my phone, holding it up again to
watch my reflection. The wound was stitching itself shut. Blood stopped flowing, and the skin closed.
The mark faded until it looked like nothing had happened. Pain faded into bliss, and I fell back against
the asphalt with a deep breath of relief.
Then I vomited.
“Hey, is that a Runner?”
I slumped back onto my back when I heard the terrified voices of civilians.
“There’s three of them!”
“Is that Phoenix Ashburn?”
“Someone call 911!”
I tried to sit up and tell them all that I could handle this. The world spun around me until there was
nothing at all.
 Chapter 9

I woke to the rhythmic beeping of a hospital heart monitor. My eyes fluttered open and I looked up
at a bland ceiling. My lips were chapped, my mouth felt like cotton - but there was no pain.
Testing, I opened and closed my mouth a few times, smiling weakly. The vampire blood worked.
The horrible wound was gone.
At a rustling sound, I turned my head to see Beck and Shina sitting beside my bed. Beck had a
bandage on their head, and they watched me with deep suspicion. Shina only looked relieved,
jumping up and practically throwing herself on me. I flinched back from the physical contact,
groaning. I moved to push her off, only to realize there was an IV attached to my hand.
“It’s a precaution to keep you hydrated.” Shina adjusted my blanket when I let my hand fall. “God,
Phoenix, what the hell happened out there?”
“Yeah, Phoenix,” Beck said darkly. “What happened out there?”
Shina tilted her head in concern.
I tried to lick my lips, but my tongue was dry. “Water,” I rasped. Shina rushed to a side table and
offered a small cup to me. I gulped it down, handing it back to her for more. She obliged. “It seems,” I
gasped out once I’d had enough, “I’ve pissed the Coven off.”
Shina let out a strangled cry. I sucked in a breath, coughing once and suddenly realizing there was
no pain in my ribs. The vampire blood healed my broken ribs too. I ran my hand up my chest, poking
around nervously, expecting to feel pain. There was nothing. I suppressed my smile, resting back into
my tiny pillows.
“Where’s Jonah?”
“Do you care?” Beck growled.
“Excuse me?”
Shina placed her hand on my shoulder, ignoring Beck’s hostility. “Jonah is in a room a couple
rooms down. He’s a little bruised, some blood loss, and they stitched up bite marks on his neck - but
he’s going to be fine. Please, what about the Coven?”
I licked my lips. “I told you all I know.”
Beck scoffed.
I sat up, my head spinning. “You better speak your damn mind, Beck.”
They inclined their bruised chin. I stared at them, furious at their insubordination, fully prepared
to leap from this hospital bed if I needed to.
 “You played with them, Phoenix. We’re lucky we’re alive. They should have killed you the way
you talked to the Master,” Beck spat. “And what about what he did to you?”
“The Master?” Shina squeaked. “What did he do?”
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘what he did’?”
“He cut you,” Beck said.
“Obviously he didn’t.” I was lying through my teeth. If they knew what I’d done, they might not
respect me as much. While Runners knew vampire blood had healing properties, it was a part of our
oath not to use it. Some people believed even tasting vampire blood made a human more like them -
though there was no scientific evidence to prove it. I’d broken my Runner oath by saving myself out
there. They didn’t need to know - I did what I had to do.
“Phoenix-”
“Enough, Beck,” I snapped. My heart monitor was racing now, an obnoxious chirp in my ear.
Beck stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind them. I glared at the door for a long moment
before sinking into my pillows and looking at Shina. “When can I go home?”
“I’ll get a doctor.”

I WAS GIVEN the all-clear from the doctors the next morning. Shina chose to stay with Jonah at the
hospital because the doctors wanted to keep him another night for observation. He’d lost a lot of
blood. They sent me home in a car and I pretended I was grateful for it.
At the apartment, I stalked inside, exhausted. Beck smoldered on the couch when I walked in,
tossing my key onto the counter. I made eye contact with Beck, daring them to challenge me again. I
wasn’t tied down by an IV this time, I’d take any fight now.
Finley was asleep on the lounge chair. I turned my attention to him, pursing my lips. I’d
specifically told him he needed to do better - work harder, train better. Instead, he was passed out
with a fleece blanket. Pathetic. I slammed my hand on the counter to rouse Finley from his sleep. He
looked at me with panic, stupid long hair falling in his face. I watched terror and guilt flash across his
face in response to the contempt on mine. “Shouldn’t you be training to become a real Runner?”
He leapt out of the chair, nodding. “Yes, Phoenix. Right away.”
I looked at Beck, who was still staring at me. “Anything to say?” I hissed.
“No. I’m sorry.” They sat back, crossing their arms. I noticed dark circles under their eyes. “I’m
glad you’re okay,” they added.
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I believed them, but I wasn’t about to add more fuel to the fire. When they
were ready to talk, I’d be here. I glanced down the hallway at where Finley was pulling on boxing
gloves as he stampeded out the door.
“You could go easier on him, you know,” Beck sighed.
I opened the refrigerator, digging out leftover pasta. “He lets his fear control him. He’s weak. I
need him to be stronger in order to trust him.”
“That’s fair.” Beck came to stand with me, their blue eyes wide and gentle. “Enough to share?”
“Hell no, I’m starving.”
They laughed, hugging me tightly. Silently, I accepted their temporary truce, praying this meant the
end of them wondering about my face wound. Still, when they pulled away, I caught their eyes looking
at my mouth again. They’d seen what the Coven Master had done and were trying to figure out where
the wound had gone. I was hoping I could play it off as an illusion. Beck said nothing as they
rummaged in the pantry for their own food.
“What are you going to do about the Coven?”
I was quiet, watching my pasta spin round and round in the microwave.
“Red?”
“I don’t know, Beck,” I whispered.
“They’ll come back, you know.”
“Yes.”
“Are you even afraid?” Beck’s voice raised, and I huffed out a long breath at their panic.
It was an external echo of my own.
I stuffed my terror down my throat and straightened.
“Yes.” I turned to look at them. “But I can’t afford to be afraid. I have four Runners to take care
of. I have to stay alive. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I need to stay focused, and all these
questions aren’t helping me.”
They were quiet.
 Chapter 10

I cinched my belt, sucking in a breath as I narrowed my eyes at Beck and Finley. I wasn't looking
forward to having Finley on the run tonight instead of Shina or Jonah, but Jonah was still too
injured to be left alone. Silently, I reminded myself we were lucky he was alive and back at the
apartment. He could be dead. I could be dead.
Besides, I needed to dedicate more time to Finley’s training. He’d been a member of this team for
a while now. I understood it took some Runners longer than others to grow into their role, but I still
hadn’t seen the progress I’d waited for. With the Coven in town, I couldn’t afford any loose ends. I
would give him one month to improve, and if he didn’t, I would sign his discharge papers.
Beck tied their whip around their belt, letting one side hang down like a vague threat. I motioned
for them to lead the way. It had been three days since the incident with the Coven Monarchs, and
already Beck seemed to be letting go of their panic. They hadn’t pressed for any details and had
stopped glaring at me every time I walked into the room. Still, though, I caught their eyes on my
mouth, trying desperately to remember what they’d seen. For my own sake, I hoped they never figured
it out.
“Red, did I tell you I got a date?” Beck chatted as we walked out of our neighborhood.
“Back on the dating apps?” I nudged their shoulder, grinning. “Good for you.”
“You should date,” they said, raising an eyebrow.
I scoffed. “Beck, baby, men are intimidated by me.”
I’d done the dating thing for a while after Milo died, even downloaded an app or two. As soon as
my potential date realized I was Phoenix Ashburn, they were making up excuses to not come to
dinner or sitting across from me trying to make themselves seem like gods when they were only
insecure little boys. I didn’t have the patience to boost any man’s ego.
“Everyone is intimidated by you.”
I laughed, shrugging. “You’re right. So, tell me about this date.”
“So, she’s absolutely beautiful,” Beck rambled.
I smiled while they talked, keeping an eye on the streets as we ventured further and further from
home. Glancing down at the stolen emerald ring I still wore, a smirk played on my lips. I thought
about what dating would be like. I’d have a conversation at dinner, they’d compliment the ring or the
pearl necklace I wore. I’d tell them I ripped it off a dead vampire, and they’d run off with their tail
between their legs.
 After a while, the conversation died down and we walked in silence. Beck untied their whip,
snapping it through the air rhythmically. It was supposed to rain tonight, and the city was quieter than
usual. I looked up at the sky, wishing I could see the rain clouds but all I found was smog.
I stopped suddenly and turned to Finley. “Why did you become a Runner?”
He paused, staring at me with wide eyes. A long moment passed where he opened and closed his
mouth like a guppy.
“Answer me,” I demanded.
“A vampire killed my cousin,” he blurted, then looked ashamed.
“Good.” I looked at Beck. “Why did you become a Runner?”
“My mother became a vampire when I was seven. She killed my sister,” Beck said.
I watched horror cross Finley’s face and fought to contain my amusement. Beck’s story was worse
than most; they had a very personal hatred for vampires. “Maybe don’t tell that story on the first
date,” I teased. Beck laughed. “When you’re face to face with a vampire, what do you think about?”
“Not dying,” Finley squeaked.
“Wrong.” I narrowed my eyes. “You should be thinking about your cousin.”
“What?”
I nodded, beginning to walk in a predatory circle around him. “Think about how scared they must
have been. The pain they felt. Convince yourself that this vampire, every vampire, is the one who
killed them.” Finley stared at me for a long moment, and then I watched his eyes harden. Triumph
coursed through me. It was working, he was considering it. I licked my lips, rubbing my hands
together in anticipation. “The first vampire we find tonight will be yours. I want you to remember
your cousin when you kill them.”
Finley nodded. I flicked my wrist and motioned for both Finley and Beck to walk in front of me,
hoping we found more than one vampire tonight.
We broke into a light jog, and I thought about Abigail and my mother. I’d tried to convince them
I’d become a Runner to protect them or I was here to avenge my father. Those were all lies I made up
so people weren’t so appalled at my actions. The truth was, I was here for me. I was here because I
wanted to be. I liked hunting vampires. I enjoyed their blood on my hands and I relished in watching
life leave their eyes.
It was my job as Lead Runner to create a team of efficient, deadly hunters. If forcing them to
channel their pain and fear was what made them better Runners, so be it. Beck and Finley’s stories
weren’t uncommon for Runners - many joined for revenge and the majority didn’t have a family to fall
back on. They only had other Runners who were as cold-hearted and dangerous as they were.
I’d barely spoken to my Mom and sister since I joined the Runner Institution when I was twelve.
They called a few times a year to check in, usually around the holidays or my birthday. Mom never
asked about my job, and if I brought it up, she’d go silent in protest. Abigail asked, but never really
wanted to know. She’d gone to Runner school and backed out before she could get a real job.
Beck’s father was in a rehab center after losing his mind following the vampiric death of his wife.
Finley’s parents were devout Catholics who believed vampires were the children of the devil and
even touching them would poison a soul for eternity. Jonah didn’t talk about his family. We didn’t ask.
Only Shina still talked to her mother, who supported her and brought homemade food and clothes
when she visited from Canada.
I caught up to my Runners and we fell into perfect unison. Beck and Finley were quiet, and for the
first time, I thought of Finley as part of the hunt. We meandered in and out of a few bars and
restaurants, surprised to not find a single vampire in any of them. My annoyance grew, and I let the
team eat around midnight, choosing to wait outside. I longed to wrap my hands around a vampire’s
throat. I was bored and anger was beginning to simmer within me. I glanced back at Beck and Finley,
chomping down on a pizza and laughing.
I peeked back inside. “I’m going for a walk. Feel free to head home after you’re done eating.”
“Thanks, Phoenix,” Finley said around a bite of pizza.
“Be safe.” Beck nodded once.
“Just a walk, not hunting,” I lied, waving as I slipped back into the night.
I walked for about a block, in case either of my Runners watched me go. Glancing back, I turned a
corner, a smile playing on my lips as I burst into a run. It felt nice to sprint without heaving for breath.
I’d been pretending to still have broken ribs around my Runners because they didn’t know about the
vampire blood, but I’d been eager to feel like this - fast and free. I hadn’t settled on an area of town to
hunt in yet, so I ran. I fell into a rhythm of step and breath, and the whole world blurred around me. I
saw the cars and people I ran past, but I didn’t really pay attention to any of them. Soon enough, I
didn’t even know what street I was on. I ran mindlessly until my legs burned and lungs quivered,
desperate for a fresh breath.
I stumbled to a stop, panting. My legs were shaking, and I jogged up to a bench to sink into it with
a long breath. I looked up at street signs, noting I was only six miles from the apartment. Once I caught
my breath, it would be an easy run back.
It was raining.
I looked up at the sky as rain sprinkled on my face. My hands shook at my sides and I pulled out
my phone, hesitating only a moment before dialing. I held it to my ear, my heart racing as I waited for
an answer. It went to voicemail.
I wasn’t going to, but once it beeped, I found myself leaving a message. “Hey Abigail, it’s
Phoenix. I know it’s the middle of the night, but I was just calling to see how you’re doing. There’s a
lot going on here and I realized we haven’t talked in a while. Anyway, I hope you’re good, and that
you’re staying safe. Say hi to Mom for me. Bye.”
I hung up, blinking rain out of my eyes. I was here because I wanted to be. I was the best Runner
in the world, and this job had been easy for far too long. I longed to feel fear again, to experience a
true adrenaline rush that came with escaping death.
I was lonely on my pedestal, and there was only one game I could think to play.
My Runners were the closest thing to companionship I had, but it was only an imitation. They
trusted me, I was their Lead Runner. At home, we could be ourselves and relax a little, but on the
streets - it was life or death out here and it was my job to keep them safe. One wrong move and any
one of them could be dead. Runners died every day, even without being the target of powerful
vampires like the Coven.
I tapped my fingers on my knees as rain soaked into my clothes, staring into the misty dark. I
wondered if I had a team strong enough to handle the Coven. If I let them, would they stand beside
me? Would they survive? I’d started a sadistic game with the Coven Master and I wanted it all to
myself. If I was going to win, I wanted it to be because I was the best.
I walked home in the pouring rain.
 Chapter 11

S hina and Jonah were watching the news when I walked in the front door before dawn. Jonah
was covered in a blanket and looked half awake, Shina jumped like a startled deer when I
entered. I could hear the shower running down the hall and assumed Beck and Finley had made
it back safely. I hung my belt on its hook, narrowing my eyes as I walked into the living room for a
closer look at the TV. My Runners shifted nervously, and I sucked in a breath of shock when I saw the
headline on the TV.
Coven Monarch Stella Khatri to Make Statement About Death of Rhys Montagne
“We don’t have to watch this.” Shina reached for the remote.
Holding up one hand to stop her, I sat down on the edge of the couch. “Yes, we do.”
The camera panned to a microphone with an all-black backdrop. There was a long moment of
white noise and the crowd of media murmuring. Then the black curtains moved. Stella sauntered out,
wearing a dark purple suit, inclining her chin as she adjusted the microphone to her height. She didn’t
smile, but as I watched her, her maniacal cackle echoed in my mind.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight,” she said solemnly into the microphone, looking directly at
the camera. “First, the Coven would like to apologize for our delay in this message. Losing Rhys has
hit us particularly hard. He was a dear friend and partner.”
I nearly snorted at her lie; she’d called him a bore days ago.
“The Master is actively searching for a new Heir to take Rhys’ place.” A small smirk played on
Stella’s lips before she managed to shove it down and maintain her facade of grief. “We do not have
any updates on when the transition of power will take place, but we assure you, we are fully prepared
to handle it when we’re ready.”
I wondered how the Coven’s human business partners were reacting to this news. Historically,
new monarchs were appointed rather quickly. Not having a full Coven Monarchy was similar to
America not having a Vice President - the balance of power was offset. The Coven participated in
global affairs, primarily as a silent investor, though I wasn’t sure which monarch handled the money.
“What about Phoenix Ashburn?” A reporter yelled.
Annoyance flashed on Stella’s face, and she straightened. Chills ran down my spine. “What about
her?”
“There’s footage showing her killing Rhys Montagne. Is the Coven going to retaliate?”
Stella licked her lips. I gulped, waiting for her answer. “The Coven has no plans to harm the
Runner. The lives of mortals are not worth our time.”
Anger flashed through me. Both of my Runners turned to look at me and I gritted my teeth,
watching the press conference continue. The media continued with a few other questions. Did they
have any contenders for the new Heir? They did. Would they make a public announcement? Yes.
Ringing echoed through my ears, and I dug my nails into my knees as I watched Stella on the TV.
They’d approached me twice, of course they had an agenda, but they weren’t willing to make their
involvement public, so if I died, no one would look at them twice. Vampires were exempt from human
law and order anyway, since they were dead, and their fingerprints couldn’t be traced. Still, I’d
hoped that if I lost this game, then the whole world would know who was responsible. I didn’t want
people to think it was any vampire off the street who took town Phoenix Ashburn.
I was either going to kill the Coven, or die at their hand.
“Red?” Shina asked nervously.
I glanced at her, snapping out of the trance I’d fallen into. “What?”
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head, standing from the couch. “I’m fine. I’m going to bed.”
“Red,” Shina called as I darted for the hallway. I turned, fighting tears of anger. “We’ve got your
back.”
I nodded once.

“A COUPLE NEWS stations want your response to the Coven press conference,” Beck said as I hunched
over my cereal the next night.
I huffed out a long breath. I’d just gotten back from three hours at the gym, working until every
muscle in my body screamed in protest. I was sticky with sweat, barely able to lift the spoon to my
mouth, and full of pent-up rage.
“No.”
“It’s your job, Red.”
“What am I going to tell them, Beck?” I snapped. “You think if I walked in there and mentioned
that the Coven Monarchs are liars and have attacked me twice, they wouldn’t come to kill me
instantly?”
Beck stiffened. “Twice?”
I groaned. I’d made a mistake; I hadn’t intended to tell anyone about London, but I couldn’t lie to
them now.
“When was the other time, Phoenix?”
“London.” I rested my forehead on the cold countertop. “I’m not talking to the news stations about
this.”
“What if they could help?” Beck’s voice was softer now.
“I said no!” I yelled, slamming my hands down on the counter. “Drop it.”
“We know you’re hurting, Phoenix, but we’re your team,” Shina said from where she’d been
silently watching across the kitchen. “We can help you.”
I shoved the bowl of cereal forward, and it fell into the sink with a splatter. I threw myself from
the chair, storming towards the door. I only paused long enough to grab my key and my belt before
slamming it behind me and running down the hall. I heard Shina and Beck calling after me, but I
couldn’t stand to hear their voices for another moment. I needed to be alone. I needed to figure this
out by myself.
I was already tired and sore and didn’t have the energy to run very far. I fumbled with my belt,
checking that I had my key, phone, dagger, and stake. That was all I ever left the apartment with, all I
needed to survive. I started running slowly, then faster for a while, until I didn’t want to go any
further. I found myself at a quiet bar, storming inside and showing my Runner ID to the pretty boy
bartender. Apart from the best job in the world, being a Runner also came with perks like not having
to worry about money. There was a city-wide tab opened in our team’s name, so we never had to
carry cash or cards on us.
He nodded once, gulping. “What’ll you have, Miss Ashburn?”
I looked him over, smirking lightly when I realized he was a vampire. He was careful with his
words, his head tilted down ever so slightly as he tried to conceal his fangs. Normally, I’d already be
over the counter, glass shattered over the floor and my stake in his heart.
Tonight, I was drained.
“I’m off duty, unarmed.” I held up two hands in a mock surrender. He visibly relaxed, though still
watched me with the eyes of a cornered predator. “Gin and tonic, please.”
He smiled tightly, moving away without turning his back to me. I let my shoulders slump, staring
at the counter until he brought back my drink. I mumbled my thanks, bringing the cold drink to my lips
with a long sigh.
“Bad night?” He asked nervously.
I looked up, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to talk to me. I can see you twitching.”
He swallowed, but shrugged. “It’s my job. I talk to sad people.”
I took another drink. “You think I’m sad?”
“Actually you look like shit, but I was being nice,” he said, leaning down to wash a cup in the
sink.
I laughed once. “Good thing I’m off duty then. I prefer to make an impression.”
The vampire smiled.
I asked him to make me another drink.
Four gin and tonics later, I was staring at the wall dazedly. My vampire bartender had others to
help now, the night getting busier as it grew darker outside. Somewhere out there, my Runners would
be working while I wasted my night in a dive bar. I looked down at my last drink, shoving it away
from me with a long sigh.
“Hey, wait.” The bartender jogged over. “You shouldn’t be driving.”
I wondered if there were actually two of him, or if it was a trick of the alcohol in my
bloodstream. “I’m not driving. I’m running.”
He tossed a towel over his shoulder. “At least let me walk you out.”
I tapped my belt. “I lied earlier. I am armed.”
He smiled. “I know. Come on.”
I let the vampire help me from my barstool, his hands cold on my arm as he held onto me and
walked me outside. I tried to focus as he said something about using the backdoor to get me home
faster, but I wasn’t really listening. Something didn’t feel right. I wasn’t a lightweight when it came to
alcohol, but the world around me was spinning and I couldn’t see straight. I felt like I was going to be
sick.
“Did you drug me?” I breathed.
The bartender shushed me.
 I surveyed the back alleyway we were in now, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. It
was eerily dark and smelled like sewage. Half a second too late, I realized the bartender didn’t have
his hand on my lower back anymore and I couldn’t see him at all. I reached for my blade as the
bartender leapt from the dark, fangs bared. My reaction time was slower than it should have been, and
I fell hard against the wall, barely able to pull my knife and drive it into his hip at the same instant his
fangs nicked my skin.
I sobbed at the sharp pain, twisting the knife and forcing him back. The world spun around me like
a kaleidoscope, and I wavered as the vampire shoved me again, using all of his weight to push me
against the wall.
“My friends are going to be so happy that I killed Phoenix Ashburn,” he whispered, breath panting
on me like a dog.
“No,” I mumbled, shaking my head frantically. I tried to duck away from him, instead only hitting
my head on the sticky wall behind me. He caught a fistful of red hair, forcing me to stay still and
exposing my throat. One of his hands held my hair, and I felt the other on the top of my pants, trying to
pull them down. Panic coursed through me, and I reached for my knife, only to miss the hilt and slice
my own hand on the blade.
I kicked my knee up between his legs.
The vampire doubled over, long enough for me to stumble away a couple of steps. I fell hard,
bruising my knees on the dirty street. Immediately, I spun to avoid his attack, kicking him as hard as I
could. I was wearing gym shoes, not my spiked boots, so the impact wasn’t as effective. I cursed. The
vampire leapt up again, hissing, and then he froze where he stood, his face going white. His gaze
fixed on something behind me, and he gulped.
I turned to see what he was looking at.
Dorian Sterling stood at the entrance to the alleyway.
 Chapter 12

T he streetlight cast shadows over the Coven Master’s face. There was a smirk on his lips again
- one of triumph. I groaned deeply, pushing myself to my feet and spinning my blade in my
hand. I was way too drunk to fight two vampires, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice. I
stomped both of my feet on the ground, firmly planting myself where I stood and preparing for a fight.
Dorian Sterling didn’t even bother looking at me. He stared at the bartender and his face turned
murderous.
“I’ve done my fair share of terrible things,” he said, his voice seeming to echo through the
alleyway. “I’ve never taken advantage of a drunk woman.”
The bartender looked like he was going to pee himself, trembling as Dorian took a few slow steps
forward. He walked past me without a glance, his hands crossed behind his back. The bartender
quivered as he stepped back. Stella Khatri dropped from the roof like a cat, landing behind him. The
bartender was now caught between two Coven Monarchs, and I watched terror cross his face when
he realized what I already knew.
They were going to kill him.
I took a slow step backwards, my heart racing. Then another, not sure I wanted to be here when
the vampire was dead. Right now, none of them were paying attention to me, but surely it would be a
different story in a few moments.
He tried to run.
My jaw dropped as he made it two steps before Dorian Sterling buried his hand in his chest. A
slow whine fell from my mouth, and the world spun so I had to grab the wall as I watched blood pour
from the vampire’s chest. I’d seen a lot of blood before, but I’d never seen anything like that. Dorian
pulled back with a snarl. I sank back to my knees when I recognized the dark lump in his hand. He’d
torn out his heart. My stomach churned. The dead vampire sunk to the ground with a thud, followed by
his heart, and there was a moment that seemed to take an eternity as both Coven Monarchs turned to
look at me.
Dorian pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve, wiping his bloody hand idly as he watched me.
Stella’s heels clicked on the ground as she stepped around the dead vampire’s body. I tensed, my hand
wrapping tighter around my blade as she moved.
Only to watch her walk right past me.
I watched her go, trembling.
 “She’s gone to get the car,” Dorian sighed, walking forward and holding out his clean hand.
I stared at him blankly.
He raised an eyebrow, kneeling in front of me. I growled as he tilted my chin up, inspecting where
there should have been deep, smiling wounds on my face. His hand was cold as he traced his thumb
along my jaw. Slowly, he smirked, realizing what I’d done to save myself. “Resourceful, aren’t you?”
I pulled back with a growl, moving to raise my dagger.
Dorian caught my wrist easily, pulling the blade away and yanking me to my feet. I thrashed like a
wild animal, the world pulsing like heartbeats as he pulled on the edge of my belt. It snapped under
his strength, and he held onto it with one hand and used his other to steer me forward.
“Hey, that was expensive,” I yowled, trying to snatch it back from him like a child.
He said nothing, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and forcing me to walk forward
without being able to reach my belt in his other hand. His hand was cold and almost relieving on my
hot skin. I felt too warm, too dizzy. I thought I was going to be sick again, tripping over my own feet
and barely catching myself. Perhaps I should have eaten something before coming to the bar. I
grumbled to myself, pausing when I saw the black car Stella Khatri stood in front of.
I spun quickly, ducking out of Dorian’s grip, and taking a few frantic steps backwards. Stella
looked annoyed. I turned to run, only to run face first into Dorian again.
“Get in the car,” he growled, his eyes darkening.
“No,” I spat, ducking out of the way of his grip again.
I moved too fast. I think I fell.

I WOKE up on a soft bed. I had a killer headache, and my stomach was churning.
I didn’t know where I was.
I sat up quickly, taking in the pristine room. I lay beneath a black duvet; my shoes were on the
floor next to the bed. The whole room was decorated in modern edges and designed in shades of gray.
It looked like no one had ever slept in here. The curtains were open, revealing a clear night sky over
land I’d never seen. I wasn’t in Brooklyn anymore. My heart leapt into my throat as memories flooded
back to me in haphazard pieces.
Alcohol. The bartender. The Coven Monarchs. A black car.
I’d fucked up.
I scrambled from the bed, pulling on my shoes and darting towards the door. It opened without
struggle, and I hesitated only a moment before choosing a direction of the hallway to dart down. I was
in some sort of modern mansion, though it felt more like a ghost town than a home. Every step I made
echoed, so I moved faster, desperate to escape. I found a large staircase, swearing as I scrambled
down them. At the last step, though, I tripped over something invisible, and landed face first on white
tile.
Spinning around, I came face to face with a grinning Stella Khatri. She wore a casual t-shirt and
bell-bottomed pants today. She had tripped me, appearing faster than the human eye could
comprehend and ruining my escape.
“Good morning sunshine,” she cooed.
“It’s the middle of the night,” I spat.
“Sure, but you slept for twenty four hours. Not sleeping at home?”
 I pushed myself to my feet, turning at the single footstep behind me.
“Of fucking course.” I glared at Dorian as he crossed his arms behind his back, his dark clothes a
stark contrast to the pristine white of the walls and floors surrounding us.
“Ah, you’re a delight after waking up.” Dorian raised an eyebrow, tracing the tip of his tongue
over his fangs.
“Actually, I’m a peach when I haven’t been kidnapped. Where’s my belt?”
He pretended to think about it. “On the doorstep of your apartment.” My stomach flipped while he
checked his watch. “The whole world should be looking for you by now, Miss Ashburn.”
I saw red.
I leapt towards him, ducking past his grip. In too short of a time, I had him pinned against the wall
with a snarl of fury, my forearm across his throat. Dorian was unruffled, holding up a hand to stop
Stella behind me. He reached up and pushed my arm off his throat, holding me so tight I whimpered. I
took a step backwards, trying to step away from the pain of his grip. He didn’t release me, and my
whine turned to a cry. I was worried my bones would break if he kept holding me so tightly.
“I have a job offer for you, Miss Ashburn.”
“I don’t want it.” I thrashed, trying to free my arm.
“You’re sure?” Annoyed, he shoved me backwards. I landed hard on the tile. Dorian knelt down
in front of me. “You haven’t even heard my terms. The terms are: you work for me, or everyone
you’ve ever cared for will die, and I’ll leave their hearts on your pillowcase for you to wake up to.
Your Runners, your mother, your sister.”
I inclined my chin, saying nothing.
“Stella, have someone bring tea to my office, please.”
“Of course.” Stella sauntered off, winking at me in amusement.
Dorian walked away, back down the long hallway he’d come out of. I watched him open a door at
the end, glancing back briefly before disappearing inside, leaving the door open behind him. I huffed
out a long breath, swallowing my anger before I pushed myself to my feet. I looked down at the red
mark on my arm, left by his grip, and prayed it wouldn’t bruise.
I gritted my teeth before I limped after the Coven Master.
He already sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, typing on a laptop, smirking slightly when I
came into the room. I looked around the office, in awe of the floor to ceiling bookshelves surrounding
the room, full of books that looked to be centuries older than me, and the enormous windows
overlooking an intricate garden. My eyes found a candle on the desk, and I breathed in the scent of
sandalwood. Where the hell were we? This room felt like some Victorian romance novel, a stark
difference from what I’d seen from the rest of the house - modern and sterile. I looked back out into
the hallway, shocked by the bare walls and shining floors. I hadn’t noticed any of it when I was
running, but now I was curious.
Dorian motioned for me to sit in a chair across from him, and I padded over, sinking into the chair
with a long sigh. The adrenaline of my attempted escape was fading and now I felt cold and nauseous.
Dorian said nothing to me for a long time, instead looking at his computer. I turned my attention to
him, watching the way he deliberately ignored me. Annoyance curdled in my veins - I didn’t like to be
ignored. He’d brought me here for a reason and I wanted to know what it was.
A small noise behind me caught my attention, and I turned to watch a girl bring in a tray with
teacups on it. She smiled at Dorian when she set it on the corner of his desk, and he nodded to her. My
blood ran cold when I saw the bite marks on her wrists, peeking out from under her sleeves. She
grinned at me too, skipping from the room, and I glared at the Coven Master - disgusted and enraged.
She was a human blood bag.
“She feels no pain.” He rolled his eyes, closing his laptop. “Runners are so dramatic. Some
people like vampires, you know?”
“Yeah, and I keep ticks as pets,” I retorted.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew not everyone hated vampires as much as Runners. In fact, there were
movements across the world that called for the end of the Runner Institution - it was an enormous
political debate with vampires at the forefront. It wasn’t my job to concern myself with it. It was my
job to hunt vampires.
Dorian pulled a piece of paper from next to him, holding it out to me. I took it hesitantly, sitting
back in my chair before looking down at it. It was a list of names. There were at least twenty names
on here, all of them written in elegant calligraphy. None of them I recognized.
I set it back on the desk. “What is it?”
“A list of vampires I want you to kill for me.” Dorian offered me a cup of tea.
I hated tea, but I took it anyway, desperate for the warmth. I sipped it softly, sighing. It was
actually good, subtly sweet. “Why do you want them dead?”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is I want you to do it.” Dorian sat back in his large chair and
crossed his arms over his chest.
“Or what?”
“I told you. You kill them, or I kill everyone you know.” A smirk pulled at his mouth again, and I
longed to smack it off.
I picked up the list again, trying to hide the spinning in my mind. I felt like I was going to pass out
or be sick. My hand shook lightly as I read through the list of twenty-seven vampires.
“Is this it? Or will there be more?” I sighed.
“I’ll decide later.”
“Why me?” I set down the paper again, unable to focus on it.
“Because you’re the best.”
“While I agree, I’m going to need a real reason.” I had to set down the teacup as well to hide the
shaking in my hands, clearing my throat.
“You look pale, Miss Ashburn.” Dorian sat forward, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not going to offer you an explanation. You’ll take the job, or you won’t.”
Despite the nausea creeping in, I was intrigued. The Coven Master had handed me a kill list and
was giving me permission to take these vampires out like trash. It was also a reason to keep the
Coven close. I could find out their secrets, maybe gain their trust - then I’d kill them both. It was an
elite game and all I had to do was play.
I steeled myself as I looked at him. “Tell me what I have to do.”
 Chapter 13

I had to kill twenty-seven vampires.

It seemed like an easy enough task on paper - a list of names to be marked in red. These were
powerful vampires though, rich men and socialites the world would notice were missing. This
job wasn’t a nighttime run; instead, it was a political message. Dorian Sterling wanted these vampires
dead for a reason. It wasn’t my place to wonder why, only to wield the wings of death.
Most of these vampires didn’t live in New York, so they’d have to be lured into the city under the
guise of money or power. The Coven would take care of that part. Once each one was in reach,
Dorian would send me their location and I had free reign to take it from there, as long as I didn’t get
caught. He warned me of these vampires’ bloodthirsty friends who would come for revenge if they
knew I was the arm of justice. The Coven would offer me no protection.
I couldn’t tell anyone about this job, especially not my team. This job could cost me everything -
my career, my reputation, and the few people who gave a shit about me. Except, if I didn’t take it, I
would lose it all anyway.
I buried my face in my hands as the Coven’s car drove me back into the city. It seemed the
enormous mansion was in Long Island, surrounded by other rich men and all their fancy things inside
their fancy homes.
It was just killing a couple of vampires: I repeated that to myself over and over again. I’d killed
hundreds, maybe more than a thousand, of them without a second thought. I couldn’t even remember
any of their faces and I never bothered to ask their names. They were vermin, monsters who deserved
what came for them. These twenty-seven would be no different.
Twenty-nine.
I bit down on my bottom lip as I looked out the window. We were deep into Brooklyn, almost to
the apartment now. I’d have to deal with the panic of my Runners and probably the media as well. I
couldn’t think about that yet. Right now, I was thinking about how I was going to kill Stella Khatri and
Dorian Sterling.
I would do this job for them. I’d do it quickly, efficiently, and be the best assassin they could ask
for. If I was lucky, I’d gain their trust, though I didn’t need it. Then, I’d drive a stake into each of their
hearts and watch the Coven burn.
The car rolled to a stop outside the apartment building. There were half a dozen cop cars outside.
I huffed out a growl of annoyance.
 “Mr. Sterling will be in touch,” the driver said monotonously as he unlocked the door.
“Mr. Sterling can rot in hell,” I snapped, opening the door and stepping out. When I glanced back
at the driver, he was smiling.
As I expected, there was immediate chaos when I stepped out of the car. A dozen people yelled
my name all at once, crowding around me as I walked towards the apartment. My head pounded, and I
shrugged off two reporters and a police officer who tried to stop me. Near the door, I saw Beck and
Finley talking to an officer. It looked like Beck had been crying. Finley was stoic. They both looked
up as I approached, relief and horror on their respective faces. Another officer tried to grab me and
ask where I was, but I was seconds from throwing up. The adrenaline from my interaction with the
Coven was wearing off and I was spiraling. I shoved past them, one hand on my stomach and the other
over my mouth. I bounded up the stairs to the apartment and kicked the door open.
I barely made it to the toilet before getting sick. The ruckus I created had Shina running from her
room to stand in the doorway and watch me vomit up the nothing that was in my stomach. She moved
to help me hold my hair back as I was sick again and again, until I was gagging on air. I reached up to
flush the toilet, accepting the towel she offered me to wipe my mouth as I slumped back against the
wall.
A moment later, the front door slammed.
“Where the hell is she?” Beck yelled.
“Here,” Shina called.
Beck and Finley stormed into the bathroom. Beck looked murderous, slamming the door all the
way open. I looked at them tiredly, wiping my mouth again.
“Had a nice chat with the Coven Master,” I whispered, my head spinning. I didn’t see a reason to
lie about where I’d been. My lies were about to pile up and there was no reason for this to be one of
them. “He’s a pleasant man.”
“How are you alive?” Finley blurted.
I ignored him. “I want to lay down. And I think I’m hungry.”
“That’s it?” Beck burst out. “What the fuck, Phoenix?”
I pushed myself to my feet, nudging past them as I walked towards my room. “I’m not going to talk
about it.”
“Phoenix!” They all yelled in a chorus.
I shut the door to my room and locked it.

MY TEAM DIDN ’ T SPEAK to me for three days.

They took their assignments silently, without question, talking to each other in the apartment and
on our runs. They held conversations around me like I didn’t exist except to give orders. They never
made eye contact with me or asked any questions. At first, I didn’t mind the silence. My mind reeled
for days after my meeting with the Coven Master, exhausted by the weight of the job he’d given me. I
was working for an enemy, someone I was sworn to kill. Sure, the conditions were to keep the secret
from my team, but it was for the best. My secret was keeping them safe and alive. I was protecting
them by not telling them what happened. I was protecting them by taking this job.
They repaid me with disrespect.
Angry, I went about my days alone, training for hours at the gym then locking myself in my room
until it was time to go on a run. The nights became suddenly quiet, as if the vampires were tiptoeing
around town. My frustration grew and I had nothing to take it out on. The first night, Beck killed a
young vampire without waiting to see if I wanted it. The next, there were none at all. The third night, I
tried to be a good teacher and let Finley take it, only for him to freeze. Jonah killed it instead.
My frustration had started as embers and was quickly catching fire.
When I was alone, I did research on the twenty-seven vampires on my kill list. Most of them were
ex-Coven members, all of them rich beyond measure. Only three of them lived in New York: two in
Long Island and the other in Manhattan. I’d heard of some of them - rich white men with big names in
corporate America. Two, I’d already known were vampires, others hid their identity very well. Any
normal day, I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere near these vampires without fearing the repercussions
of society. Now, I had permission from the darkest members of the elite, and I was eager to get
started. This wasn’t any old vampire kill; I wouldn’t have the opportunity to get down and dirty on the
street and I’d never catch these vampires by random. They were careful; I had to be stronger, faster,
smarter than I’d ever been.
I settled on the vampire in Manhattan. Her name was Clara Miller. She was an heiress, her
parents both decades dead. She now hoarded what was left of her father’s fortune and blew it on boys
and ballet. Public record revealed her father had owed Dorian Sterling a lot of money, and it seemed
Clara had done nothing to alleviate those debts. She lived in a penthouse, and was often seen at all the
elite parties.
I figured I should get started. The sooner these vampires were dead, the sooner I could kill the
Coven Monarchs and get back to my life as the one and only Phoenix Ashburn. I strapped on my new
belt, sheathing an extra blade in my boot. I refused to be caught weaponless again.
“Going out?” Finley asked as I walked out of my room, shrugging on my black jean jacket.
“Yeah, I need to talk to the press.”
Finley was easy to lie to because he was so trusting by nature. He nodded to me kindly, and I
slipped past him. The other Runners must have been asleep or at the gym, because no one tried to stop
me on my way out. I left a note for Beck to lead the run tonight, telling them I was with the press and
police trying to find a solution to our Coven issue. I hoped it was enough to satisfy them.
I ran a couple blocks away from the apartment before I hailed a taxi and flashed my Runner ID.
The driver huffed out a long breath and asked where to. I gave him the address and sat back. I could
have taken the subway the whole way, but I wasn’t in the mood for crowded areas and smelly people.
Instead, I watched the city pass outside the window. A half an hour into the ride, there was a text on
my phone from an unknown number.
Christian Foerst will be landing at JFK tomorrow night. Make sure he doesn’t make it to his
hotel.
I wrinkled my nose, shoving my phone back in my belt. I’d think about the next job after I finished
the first one. The taxi dropped me off after an hour of riding in silence. I thanked him graciously and
slipped him a twenty dollar bill for a tip. He accepted it with a grimace but said nothing as I got out
of the car and looked up at the enormous building in front of me. Manhattan was much different from
Brooklyn. The buildings were taller and shinier. The streets were busier, full of life and brimming
with money.
I couldn’t walk through the front door because I risked the doorman recognizing me from the
news. He likely knew one of his richest residents was a vampire, and would therefore never let a
vampire hunter into the building. Instead, I slipped around the back, found a service entrance and
entered the building easily. I kept my eyes down until I found an elevator, smiling triumphantly to
myself as the doors closed with me inside. I pressed the penthouse button. On the way up, there were
a few more stops, but no one questioned who I was or what I was doing here. I stayed near the back
of the elevator, hiding a whoop of delight when the doors opened to the penthouse.
I walked right into Clara Miller’s home, shocked at how frilly and pink it seemed.
There she was.
Clara herself walked around the corner, wearing a silk robe and appearing much younger than I
was. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of me. When her lips parted in shock, I saw her fangs
had rhinestones on them. “I thought you’d be my Chinese food.”
I pulled the dagger from my belt, flicking the hilt in my hand. “Phoenix Ashburn, nice to meet
you.”
Panic flashed across her face, and she tried to run. I wasn’t sure whether she was stupid or
desperate, but she ran right towards me. I caught her before she made it into the elevator, slashing my
blade across her arm and shoving her back. As soon as I injured her, the innocent facade disappeared,
and she hissed in fury as she lunged for my throat. I dodged her, grabbing her hair to keep her from the
elevator. She stumbled back, falling through a glass table. I stepped over the glass, yelping when she
grabbed a large piece and shoved it into my ankle.
Clara Miller was a hundred years old. She was stronger and faster than I was. But she was ruled
by her bloodlust- I was not. The glass burned in my ankle, but not enough to stop me. I pretended to
fall into the glass and let it cut into my skin, spilling more blood on the ground. Clara lost her control,
as I predicted she would, and leapt towards me like a rabid animal. Her jaws snapped near my face
with a click, and I punched her in the jaw. Again, she roared.
With a quick maneuver, I had her pinned on the ground next to an indoor hot tub, pressing my stake
to her chest. “Say my name and I’ll let you live.”
She snapped at me again, baring her rhinestone fangs. I rolled my eyes, pressing the stake harder.
She gave in. “Phoenix Ashburn,” she sobbed.
I killed her.
The elevator dinged.
The Chinese food was here.

I SAT on Clara’s pink velvet couch, unbothered by the blood on my boots, and ate her Chinese food as
I texted the unknown number from earlier.
Clara Miller is dead.
The response was almost immediate. Where are you?
Her penthouse.
I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
I groaned, lounging back and continuing to pick through orange chicken and teriyaki beef
containers. I hated Chinese food, but I was famished and needed to refuel. Besides, her view of
Manhattan was astounding. The couch faced enormous windows and I liked watching the lights glitter
below me. It was calming.
When I was done eating, I limped to her bathroom and used a new toothbrush I found in the
drawer to clean the smell of food from my breath. The elevator dinged, catching my attention while I
rifled through her things for bandages. I limped out of the bathroom, realizing I was dripping blood on
the white floors. For my own sake, I hoped the Coven Master had more control over his bloodlust
than Clara did.
Dorian Sterling stepped out of the elevator, the black of his clothing a stark contrast to the white
and pink of Clara’s penthouse. As always, he looked completely unruffled, his face cool as he took in
the sight of the dead girl in the middle of the room. I limped further out of the hallway, and his eyes
settled on me. Instantly, his eyes flicked down to the blood oozing from my wounds. My heart skipped
a beat when his eyes darkened; for a moment, I worried he didn’t have the control I thought he did.
Then he inclined his chin, annoyance flashing across his face.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Sterling?” I smirked. “Blood make you squeamish?”
A low growl rumbled in his throat. I couldn’t help it, I shot him a taunting smile as I returned to
my spot on the couch. I lounged back, kicking my boots up on the cushions. Dorian walked further into
the penthouse, disappearing into the back room. Curiosity got the better of me, and I stood up again,
following the vampire into the room. I found him in the closet, breaking open the front of a small pink
safe.
“Did you know she has rhinestones on her fangs?” I asked casually, leaning on the wall.
Amusement flashed on his face for a brief moment before he returned to being completely stoic.
Instead of answering me, he pulled a flash drive out of the safe with a nod of satisfaction. I peered
over, realizing that was the only item in the safe.
“Well done,” Dorian said as he slipped past me. “See you tomorrow.”
I watched him leave in shock.
 Chapter 14

C hristian Foerst was even easier to kill than Clara Miller.

I’d done my research on him beforehand; I already knew he was a ladies man with a thing
for blondes. He looked like every other businessman leaving the airport, carrying a black
briefcase and walking fast so no one would bother him. Before I got to the airport, I put on a blonde
wig and a tiny red dress and snapped the heel of a shoe I would never wear again. I wore tights so he
wouldn’t see the bandages on my leg and hoped I could pass my limp as a sore ankle from breaking
the heel.
The vampires on my list would know a Runner from a mile away, especially a Runner like me. I
had to use other tactics to get close enough to them. With Christian Foerst, it was like a game of dress
up. I tried to get into the same cab as him, and nearly cried when he tried to take it from me. I made up
some sob story about how my dad was going to be furious with me for being late to the business
meeting and that I really was trying hard to get myself together. He fell for it - hook, line, and sinker.
My damsel in distress act worked wonders, and he offered to share the cab.
Halfway to the hotel I pretended was also mine, he put his hand on my knee.
I let him, knowing there was a stake strapped to my thigh.
When we reached the hotel, he tried to kiss me.
I let him do that too.
I told him I couldn’t wait for him to check in. I begged him to take me right there in the lobby,
whispering in his ear like the dirty girl he fantasized about. I reminded myself to rinse my mouth with
Listerine when I ran my tongue down his jaw, telling him I wanted to know what those fangs could do
to me. When he walked me into the bathroom and turned the lock, I let him run sloppy, snail kisses
down my neck and chest. I unbuttoned his pants.
“There’s one thing you should know,” I whispered in his ear as he whined beneath me. “The
name’s Phoenix Ashburn.”
Panic flooded his face a half a second before I killed him.
I let him slump onto the ground, pulling the blonde wig off and tossing it onto the ground next to
him. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I shook out my red hair and fixed the nude lipstick I wore.
Christian tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, and I rinsed out my mouth a few times to get rid of the
taste before preparing to leave. I kicked off the shoes too, reaching for his briefcase and backing
towards the bathroom door.
 As I expected, Dorian Sterling was waiting in the lobby. He sat on a couch, his legs crossed. I’d
texted him before following Christian out of the airport. He looked up, shocked, as I sauntered over
and placed the briefcase on the chair next to him.
“I assume you need that,” I hummed, licking my lips.
“I do.”
I was surprisingly delighted to watch his eyes trail slowly down the red dress I wore. I let him
look for a moment, basking in the hunger that filled his features. It was intriguing that even a human
girl could entice a vampire as experienced and powerful as the Coven Master. Bravely, I reached
forward and tilted his chin up. “Eyes up here, Mr. Sterling.”
He pulled back, hissing softly.
“Why do vampires make that noise?” I wrinkled my nose. “You sound like a cat.”
Dorian rolled his eyes.
“I’m assuming you can get me a ride home, kitty?” I raised an eyebrow. I was playing with fire,
and I liked the burn.
“Not so fast. I have one more job for you tonight.”
“I have no shoes.”
He ignored me, motioning for me to follow him. Snatching the briefcase, he walked towards the
entrance. I limped after him, ignoring the pain in my ankle from walking too fast. I glanced down at
my bandages, hoping I wasn’t bleeding through them. I probably needed stitches, but I needed to hide
the wounds from my Runners too and they’d know if I went to the hospital.
I followed Dorian to a black car, and he motioned me in first.
I obeyed, not wanting to cause a scene, and was surprised to see Stella in the front seat. She
looked at me in annoyance before handing back a box. I took it, looking down at a new pair of heels. I
pulled them on, impressed that they were the right size. They weren’t too tall like the other ones were,
and these ones had little silk ribbons laced halfway up my calves. While I tied them on, I glanced
over at the Coven Master.
“Where are we going?”
“I have an event to attend. A name on your list will be there,” he said.
“You want me to kill a vampire in an event full of them?” I slumped against the seat. “Are you
fucking crazy?”
Dorian glared, his jaw shifting. “Can you do it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
A smirk replaced his glare. “No, you don’t.”
The car drove for twenty minutes, and my heart fell into my stomach when I realized there were
media people standing outside a sleek building - more than a dozen reporters and cameramen.
“No.” I stiffened. “I am not getting out of this car with you.”
“Too bad, Red.” Stella glanced back, winking. I bristled at the nickname my Runners used for me.
I hated that she’d been watching me with my team.
I watched her get out first. There were a few photos taken as she stood and smiled. Dorian
chuckled to himself as he opened his own door, stepping out to join her. I thought about running the
other direction, but that would only draw attention and make everything worse. I slid across the seat
and prepared myself for an onslaught of questions and camera flashes.
There were none.
They’d stopped as soon as Dorian stepped out of the car.
He held out his hand as I stood, and I ignored it, choosing to walk on my own inside. I didn’t want
to touch him, otherwise I might take my last stake and bury it in his chest. Stella led the way through a
set of double doors, and down a long hallway into a large room. It was full of vampires. More than
I’d ever seen in one place. I tried to count them. There were fifty, maybe even a hundred, each of them
predatory and cruel. Women dressed in scant dresses, fangs flashing as they laughed with their friends
or their lovers. Men in suits shook hands and sipped red cocktails.
Then there was me. I’d never felt so small and insignificant in my life.
Dorian was right behind me, his hand on my back pressing me forward one more step. “Don’t
cause any trouble,” he murmured in my ear. “The man you’re looking for is Gregory Michaelson.”
I nodded once.
Within seconds, all eyes were on me.
They knew I was human, probably by my racing heart, or the smell of my blood, which was
definitely leaking through the wound on my ankle. Fleetingly, I wondered how many of them knew
who I was. Dorian moved away from me to shake hands with a few other men, but Stella stayed by
my side. She shot me a look that might have been pity and motioned for me to follow her. I did,
slowly, with a small limp, acutely aware of the stake on my hip, and the knife on my back. I knew
Dorian had felt it when he touched me, but he’d said nothing. I’d brought it in case Christian Foerst
got too handsy, but he was too stupid for me to need it. I wondered if I would need it now.
Stella handed me a cocktail that wasn’t red, and I swallowed my apprehension as I took it from
her. “He’s over there, with the tattoo on his temple,” Stella said.
I looked where she motioned. Gregory Michaelson was a tall, fat vampire with tattoos covering
most of his skin. He was bald, and his suit looked a size too small. He was laughing with a couple
others.
“Need anything off of him?” I gulped.
“Just kill him, Red.”
I lingered next to her for a few moments before sauntering through the room. Deliberately, I
walked directly past Gregory Michaelson and I pretended to trip. He moved with superhuman speed,
catching me easily.
“Sorry. Clumsy,” I breathed, pulling my arm from his and rubbing my skin where he’d touched me.
I widened my eyes like I was afraid of him, making myself into the easy prey in a room full of lions.
I sauntered away, noting the exact moment Gregory Michaelson set down his drink and moved to
stalk me. I glanced across the room and found Dorian watching me curiously from where he stood in a
group of people. My gaze met his and he inclined his chin in acknowledgement. I swallowed thickly,
pretending to look for the bathrooms. I was playing stupid, like I had no idea there was a vampire
following me. Except I was a trained hunter and knew how to win this game. So, when Gregory
pushed me against the wall, I let out a single gasp of fear for the rest of them to hear.
“You’re pretty. Are you the Master’s slut?” He whispered.
“No,” I whined, eyes wide.
“You came in with him.”
He was making sure he wasn’t touching someone else’s property. If I belonged to the Master,
Gregory would leave me alone. I couldn’t let that happen, I needed to pretend this was a chase. I had
to keep him here so none of his friends would come after me. I shoved him back feebly, like a civilian
would. “Please leave me alone. I’m looking for a bathroom.”
I tried to run. He followed me. I made it around two more corners before he knocked my feet out
from under me. Perfect. I didn’t have time to play with this one, not with a room full of superhuman
beasts just feet away. When Gregory fell forward onto me, I already had the stake pointed up. He died
without a sound. I shoved the body off me and sat up. I’d definitely ripped open the wound on my leg
now - it burned like hell. I rubbed the gauze on the outside with a long groan.
When I looked up, there were three enraged vampires staring down at me.
 Chapter 15

“W hat do we have here?” The woman was dressed in a long black dress with blood staining the
side of her mouth. Two men stood on either side of her, baring their fangs and growling like
feral dogs.
I swore, letting out a long breath and pushing myself to my feet. My whole body went tense when I
felt blood leaking down my leg. No matter how rich and sophisticated these vampires claimed to be,
most were still mindless heathens when it came to the smell of blood. I forced a lazy smile, twisting
my blade in my hand. “Hi, nice to meet y’all.”
“Did you kill him?” One of the men asked stupidly.
“He was very rude.” I shrugged.
“Oh, I know her.” The vampire woman perked up and raised her hand like a child in grade school.
“You’re the Runner girl, right? Something Ashfire?”
“She came with the Master.” Her friend nudged her arm in warning.
“I came with no one,” I growled. “And my name is Phoenix Ashburn.”
“Great, then you die now.”
The vampires surged forward like a tidal wave of fangs and growls. I barely had time to duck and
respond as a vampire darted for me. I escaped his grip, but the second one was already waiting for
me. The woman grabbed my arm, giggling as she twisted it. I yelped, twisting to alleviate the pressure
in my shoulder and elbowing her in the face while ducking away from another attack from the first
man.
I spun the knife in my hand, lashing out like it was an extension of me. The blade sank into the
stomach of the first vampire, and I wavered slightly. The room spun around me, and I swore. I was
running out of energy faster than I would have liked - I should have eaten breakfast before sneaking
out earlier. Blood splattered over my face as I slashed the woman’s collarbone. They were all blurs,
moving faster than the human eye could comprehend. Any civilian would have been doomed, but I’d
trained for years for this moment. A vampire shoved me against the wall, and I shoved my blade into
his shoulder. His yell echoed down the hallway, and I punched him in the jaw. The first vampire
attacked again, along with the second. I cut both of them, ducking out of the way and rolling towards
the dead Gregory Michaelson. I pulled my stake from his chest, only to have one of the new vampires
pull me away by my hair.
 Snarling, I ripped a dagger from my side, whipping it towards the closest vampire’s face. She
ducked. I growled in frustration. This was not going well. I didn’t see her move, only felt her hands
on my throat, shoving me back. I hit the ground hard, black dots covering my vision. I kicked and
yowled, clutching my blade, and using it to keep them from my throat. Nails ripped through my skin;
my blood splattered on the ground. One of them hit me in the face, and the room spun. One of them
gripped my hair, tilting my head backwards. I lashed out like an animal, throwing a blind punch.
One of the men caught me mid-swing, squeezing my hand so hard I thought bones broke. I sobbed
in pain, crumbling beneath their grip as the pain increased. He knocked the blade from my grip and
closed one hand over my chin. The more I tried to pull away, the harder he gripped my knuckles.
Something cracked.
“Kill her, kill her, kill her!” The woman cheered, clapping her hands.
“Let her go.”
The voice echoed off every molecule in the air, even if it was soft and smooth.
Silence.
Time froze and my eyes flew open. The vampires on top of me all looked like savages with
disheveled clothes, bloody pale skin, and wild eyes. I rasped in a deep breath when the vampire’s
hand dropped from my face, and I could lower my chin to take in the sight of the Coven Master
standing at the end of the hallway. Stella stood in his shadow, her lip curled in disgust. Behind her, a
few other party guests lingered around the corner, wanting to observe the scene but not wanting to
involve themselves.
Immediately, the vampires moved back, and I slumped to the ground, gasping for air.
“That’s my Runner,” Dorian hissed. “What have you done?”
“She said she wasn’t,” the woman cried, dropping to her knees hysterically.
I gripped my broken hand, whimpering as I scrambled back to curl up against the wall. No one
looked at me, all eyes were on the vampires who were now on their knees in front of Dorian. I looked
at him, gulping. His expression was smooth, his emotions hidden, his eyes full of something dark.
His Runner.
Like hell I was.
“You act like savages when I invite you all for a lovely evening?” Dorian said. He still did not
acknowledge me. “Shame on you.”
They actually hung their heads.
Wonder pooled in my chest, and I tilted my head to watch him. He was power and control, life
and death incarnate - the most dangerous man in the room. I wondered what it felt like to command
that much authority. Surely, it was intoxicating.
He leaned down, almost kneeling in front of the woman. I watched as he reached forward, tilting
her head up to look at him. For a moment, she blubbered like a baby. I watched Dorian’s lips move,
but didn’t hear what he said to her. When she screamed, I realized he was squeezing her jaw in his
hand. There was a loud crack as the bone shattered beneath the grip of his hand and he shoved her
back, ignoring her incoherent cries for help. My stomach did a flip and I pushed myself further up
against the wall. He’d snapped her jaw like it was made of styrofoam. I knew vampires became
stronger and more powerful as they aged, but I’d never seen such brutality before.
One of the men stood and tried to run. Stella stepped in front of him before he could flee and there
was a dark smile on Dorian’s face as he loomed behind the vampire. Dorian placed both hands on the
man’s shoulders and pulled backwards. He broke his spine. The man’s scream rang in my ears. I
covered my mouth with my good hand, trembling in horror.
 I looked at the last vampire, blubbering on the ground. Dorian looked at him and his smile
transformed into a smirk. It took me an extra moment to realize the third vampire had peed himself,
wetness dripping onto the carpet in front of him. Dorian walked forward slowly; the lesser vampire
cowered. I watched in dread as Dorian placed his hands on either side of the vampire’s head, his
eyes devoid of emotion. The vampire sobbed in pain. My stomach churned.
“Please don’t,” I whispered.
The Coven Master looked up at me, pausing. Tears welled in my eyes, and I shook my head. I
couldn’t watch this, not anymore. Dorian straightened.
“Get out,” he spat. “All of you, get the hell out.”
They ran.
I tried to push myself off the ground. “Not you, Miss Ashburn.”
I gulped.
Stella giggled behind him and beamed at me, amusement in her eyes. Neither of them moved until
all of the other vampires had emptied the hallway completely. Stella took an eager step towards me,
and the look Dorian gave her sent my blood running cold. She stopped, inclining her chin and then
nodding. She took a single step backwards and Dorian turned away from her.
His gaze burned into me. “I gave you one job.”
“I almost died, and you’re angry with me?” I barely managed a whisper, using the side of the wall
to stand completely. “It’s your vampires who had no control.”
Dorian growled.
Instinctively, I spun my blade in my good hand, preparing for a fight. “I did the job. He’s dead,
isn’t he?” My voice was stronger now, fueled by anger.
I barely saw Dorian move, but then he was right in front of me. I fell back against the wall, tilting
my blade up. Dorian sucked in a breath when the tip of the dagger pressed against his stomach. I
glared, daring him to move closer.
“God, Dorian, just kill her.” Stella tossed her arms in the air.
He growled, a strange, feral noise, and Stella froze again. “Get out of my sight, Stella, before I
kill you.”
“Sure, I’d like to see you try.” She turned on her heel, glaring at me before sauntering away.
“What do you want from me, Sterling?” I breathed once she was gone.
“I told you.”
“I think you’re lying.”
I tensed when he tilted my chin up further, his fingers cold against my skin. I gripped my dagger
harder, the only thing keeping him from coming closer. “Don’t try me tonight, Ms. Ashburn.”
“Why not?” I breathed, ignoring the pulsing pains running down my throat at the strain of this
position. I was covered in bruises and blood. “You haven’t given me any real reason to be afraid of
you.”
It was a blatant lie. He’d given me plenty and he knew it. There was a sparkle in his eyes when he
stepped away from me. “No?”
My heart raced and sweat beaded on my palms. I kept my expression even as I watched him. “I
want to know what you want from me.”
“What makes you think I want something?” His voice was low, dark. His eyes seemed brighter
now, almost like they’d been dead when he walked into the hallway and now he was alive.
“I’m not dead yet.”
“Careful,” he hissed.
 “Kill me.”
Dorian stared at me, his lips parted. I could see his fangs behind his lips, his chest heaving. I
knew that look - it was the look of a predator. He wanted to kill me, and I wanted him to try. I longed
to know if he truly wanted me dead or if he was bluffing. What was I to him? Why was I here, risking
my position and career? Adrenaline coursed through me. I forgot about the wounds and bruises
already covering my body. I wanted him to try and kill me. I was desperate to remind him that I
wasn’t any Runner off the streets - I was Phoenix Ashburn. At his sides, his hands clenched in fists.
“Kill me.”
He did not move.
“I dare you.”
He blinked.
“Kill me!” I screamed it this time.
He lunged.
I was ready for it, ducking and kicking his feet out from him. He regained his balance quickly,
twisting and reaching his arm out to catch mine. I whined as his fingers dug into my skin, leaving
bruises as I ripped myself from his grip.
We made eye contact and then it was beautiful.
Every movement he made was perfectly mirrored by one of mine. Neither of us could land a hit
onto the other and neither could break away. I kicked towards him, and he barely escaped my touch.
He lunged for my throat; I ducked out of the way. My heart pounded in my chest as his leg linked with
mine and I barely caught his tricky movement in time to prevent my face from hitting the ground. I
wrapped both my legs around his one, bringing him down with me.
He landed hard, moving towards me as I moved towards him. I shoved him backwards, my eyes
finding my dagger a few feet away. Blocking my face, I yelped when his hand brushed my bruised
throat. Using my legs to pin him down, I rolled quickly, gaining the advantage and straddling his lap. I
was only there for half a second, long enough to make eye contact and watch him smirk.
I leapt for the dagger.
He caught my leg.
My hand closed on the hilt as I was dragged backwards. I moved quickly, swinging my arm
around until the blade hit flesh on the back side of his shoulder. Dorian hissed in pain and I kicked
him backwards.
“Is that all you have, kitty?” I spat, kicking again, practically dancing in delight as he tried to
reach for the dagger out of his reach. “I thought you were almighty?” I knelt on his back, pushing the
dagger further into his back and listening to him roar.
I ripped it out of his skin, raising it to slam it back down into his shoulder, but he was faster than I
remembered. His hands closed around the blade and he bared his fangs as blood dripped down
between us. It streamed down his arms and mine. The harder I pushed, the harder he held onto the
blade.
“You’re weak, Phoenix Ashburn,” he whispered, his face mere inches from mine.
“I’m not.”
“Your mind is weak. You haven’t realized who you could be yet, and I’m afraid that will be your
hamartia.”
My fatal flaw.
“This isn’t a Greek tragedy.”
“No, but it is a tragedy. You could die never knowing the true extent of your power. Don’t you
think that’s sad?”
I paused for barely a second.
It was long enough for him to shove me backwards, wrestling my dagger from my grip and
pointing it at me. “I’ll give you a head start. If I catch you, I’m going to kill you.”
I stared at him, gasping for air, my eyes trailing from his eyes to the blade in his hands and
wondering if he’d really use it.
“Run, you stupid girl,” he roared.
I ran.
 Chapter 16

M y heart pounded as I collapsed, broken sobs escaping my lungs. Tears ran down my cheeks
and I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was following me. I’d been running alone
for miles, but was too terrified to stop. The Coven Master could be lurking in the shadow of
any corner. If he caught me, he was going to kill me. I had to keep running. I had no plans to die
tonight, even though my lungs screamed with every breath and my muscles burned with hellfire.
I sat back against the wall of the building I was near and looked down at my hands, covered in
Dorian’s blood. Most of it was caked against the skin by now, but the thick part of it over my palms
was still wet. I let my hands fall, looking around again for any lurking figures. Still, there was no one.
He’d let me go.
Again.
Frustration coursed through me, and I rested my head on the cold building. I licked my lips,
huffing out a long breath. Dorian had every opportunity to rip out my throat, tear my heart from my
chest, snap my neck. He could have killed me, so easily, so many times. He wanted something from
me, and I wanted to know what it was. I’d hoped provoking him would force him to give me more
information. Instead, it brought me pain.
“Damn it,” I whimpered, slumping against the wall, still heaving in deep breaths of air.
Dorian Sterling’s voice echoed in my mind, and I slammed my hands on the ground, ignoring the
pain in my broken knuckles. He didn’t know what he was talking about. I was the best Runner walking
this earth right now. I was legendary, a fire to be reckoned with. I was not a tragedy; I was a song that
would be sung from the lips of children centuries now. I was the girl who would set herself on fire to
become a part of history.
I was Phoenix Ashburn.
I’d given up everything to become who I was today. My parents, my future, any friends I might
have had. At some point, I’d even given up my humanity. I learned how to hunt, and I learned how to
do it well. I went to the gym six times a week and put more strain on my body than most people did in
their entire life. I trained my body, mind, and soul to be great. Yet, here I was, crumpled in an alley
with tears streaming down my face and my whole body trembling in agony.
Dorian Sterling was wrong. I was the greatest Runner that ever lived.
Then why didn’t I feel like it?
A horrible thought pushed its way into my mind. I lifted my hands to look at them again, tilting my
head in curiosity as I turned them over and over, watching the blood glint under the streetlights. I
thought of the smile wound Dorian had carved into my face, how quickly it healed and how
empowered I’d felt afterwards. A tired smile spread over my lips. I moved quickly, running my
tongue up the back of my hand, gagging on the taste of blood as it filled my mouth. I swallowed,
staring at my hands in disgust, tears still dripping down my cheeks. Then I leaned forward again,
licking through the blood again. And again. And again. Until I was sobbing and couldn’t bear to do it
again.
Seconds later, I could breathe. My muscles didn’t ache, my throat did not burn with every breath,
and my lungs seemed fine. I took a deep breath, testing the bruises on my ribcage, and not a single one
of them ached. I ran my fingers over my arm for the claw marks the animal vampires had left earlier.
They were gone.
I scrambled to my feet, laughing hysterically as I spun in a circle. The night seemed brighter
around me, and I felt like I could run a hundred miles.
I felt invincible.
I felt like Phoenix Ashburn.

THE NEXT NIGHT , I got a text with two names and a location from Dorian. I ignored it, tossing the
phone onto the nightstand and laying back to stare at the ceiling.
My Runners were starting to ask questions about where I was at night. The first night, I’d been
dealing with the police and media. The second, I told them I was going to train at the gym. I didn’t
know what to tell them tonight and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the Coven Monarchs after last night.
I’d brushed my teeth four times when I got home, but I couldn’t seem to get the taste of vampire blood
out of my mouth. It was rich, metallic, and something more - omnipotent. I was practically buzzing as
I walked into the house; all my bruises, cuts, and breaks were perfectly healed. My headache was
gone. I felt like I could conquer the world.
Except for the persistent terror rushing through my body, like a bug I couldn’t quite squash. I knew
Dorian Sterling was dangerous. I knew what I was getting into taking this job. I’d studied vampires
for years; I knew what they were capable of. It was different seeing it firsthand. It was different
knowing the Coven Master’s fury was directed at me.
I sat up slowly, running my hands over where I should have been covered in bruises and aches.
I’d never fought a vampire before with such perfect chemistry, it was exhilarating. Dorian Sterling
was perfect. He was darkness reincarnated, untouchable, infuriating.
I’d kill him someday.
I pushed myself out of bed, dressing quickly and strapping my Runner belt around my waist. I
laced up my boots, humming to myself as I left the room.
“Hey, Red!” Shina called from where she sat at the bar top on a video call. I leaned into the
camera, waving at her sweet mother before moving towards the freezer to pull out a breakfast
sandwich. I tossed it in the microwave, finding a fruit salad to eat with it.
“Where’s Finley and Beck?” I asked.
“Beck is in the shower. Finley is at the gym,” Jonah mumbled, not looking up from the book he
was reading on the couch.
I huffed out a long breath. He was still upset with me. I gathered my food and sat at the opposite
end of the bar as Shina, eating slowly.
“I was thinking of taking Finley out, just me and him,” I said, trying to start a conversation.
“You’ll be nice?” Jonah piped up. Shina barely looked up from where she laughed with her
mother.
I turned to glare at him. “I’m always nice.”
“No, you scare the shit out of him, and he loses any confidence he previously built.” Jonah’s voice
turned hostile. I bristled in response.
“He has none,” I snapped, standing up.
“Ma, I have to go.” Shina hung up quickly. “Easy, Red, it’s just-”
“It’s just what?” I growled, spinning towards her. “I’m the best Runner in the world, Shina. I
expect my team to be the best too, not a bunch of blubbering babies!”
Shina inclined her chin. “We are the best.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe Jonah and Beck are too. Finley is not,” I said. “It’s my job to teach him
so he doesn’t get himself killed. If he can’t handle it, maybe he shouldn’t be on this team.”
Silence.
The door clicked shut.
I turned to see Finley standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.
I straightened, smoothing out the front of my shirt. “Finley, get ready. You’re with me tonight.”
 Chapter 17

F inley started the night off well.

He jumped every few minutes and scratched his wrist in nervousness, but he walked with
his head tall. His steps were sure and perfectly in sync with each of mine. I didn’t say anything
for the first half hour or so while we walked away from the apartment. I still boiled with anger, and I
didn’t want to take it out on him. I wanted to teach him.
“I’ve been going to the gym every day,” he said eventually, glancing over at me. “Training to be
stronger, faster. I don’t know how to train away my fear, but I can do this.”
I glanced at him, sighing. “I know you can, Finley.”
“You don’t, though. You think I’m the weak link in the team and you’re right. I want you to know
that I’m trying to be better.”
I let my shoulders slump. “I apologize for how I’ve treated you.”
“I’m willing to learn from you, Phoenix, whatever you have to teach me.”
I nodded, motioning for him to follow me, and breaking into a run. He followed with a grin. We
ran until I could see him starting to lag behind me and I slowed to a stop near our destination. I led
him around the corner to where I’d found the alleyway a few months ago. It was outside a paper
company, so there were dozens of large trash bags full of shredded paper- perfect for target practice.
Finley watched me with hesitation, but still followed.
“Maybe you don’t need to kill the vampire,” I said, pulling a couple bags from the bin and lining
them up in an even stack. “But you can maim them enough for one of us to kill them.”
There was a spark of something brighter on Finley’s face. I stood off to the side, motioning to the
targets I’d made for him. He pulled a small knife from his belt, rolling the hilt in his hand before
throwing it hard.
It sliced clear through a bag of paper and clattered on the ground next to it.
“Again,” I said.
Knife after knife, over and over again, Finley threw blades. Paper splattered over the ground. I
made him hit dead center, or tear through the neck, or a leg. When he ran out, he collected them off the
ground and started again. He never missed. He was good. He could even be great.
While he worked, I talked through scenarios. I convinced him to bring the vampire to their knees
and I’d swoop in and take it over, so he didn’t have to do the killing. Finley worked from a distance
while I liked to get down and dirty. He nodded, listening, and threw his blade exactly where I asked
him to.
I smiled.
I looked up at the sound of clapping.
Stella.
“What are you doing here?” I growled, grabbing my own weapon from my belt.
Stella stopped in the entrance to the alleyway, smoothing her shimmering silver dress with a sigh.
“You’re in trouble, Miss Ashburn.”
I narrowed my eyes. “With who? I’m working.”
“You’re not, though. Check your phone tonight?”
I gulped, remembering the two texts I’d ignored hours earlier.
“What’s she talking about, Phoenix?” Finley’s confidence was fading, his voice shaking.
“Nothing, Finley.”
Stella clicked her tongue. “Now, Miss Ashburn. You can tell him. He’s not leaving alive anyway.”
I spun my blade in my hand, growling. “Now, Finley.”
He threw a knife.
It skidded along the side of Stella’s neck, slicing her open like butter. As she hissed in pain, I
leapt forward. Finley threw another blade that landed in her knee. I ducked beneath the arc of the
blade, skidding across the ground to knock Stella down. It was a perfectly choreographed attack, and
I felt my chest swell with pride.
She fell hard and I leapt up with my own knife.
I never made it down.
Something invisible caught me mid-leap, knocking the wind out of me. I was tossed backwards
and sobbed once when I hit the wall. I came to my senses in time for Dorian Sterling to lift me by the
throat and pin me against the dirty wall.
“Hello again, Miss Ashburn,” he whispered, his face inches from mine. “You’re looking well this
evening.”
“Phoenix,” Finley hiccupped.
Immediately, I turned my attention to him. Stella was standing up again and she held Finley by his
hair. There were tears in his eyes as he knelt in front of her, looking at me desperately. I pulled
against Dorian’s grip, struggling to reach the stake on my hip. Dorian shifted, pinning me against the
wall with his hips and placing his forearm over my throat.
“I warned you what would happen if you didn’t take this job,” Dorian said, his lips brushing my
cheek. “Now you can watch him die.”
“I took the job,” I cried, watching Stella drag a small knife down Finley’s arm to make him
scream. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“What about tonight?”
I tried to pull again, but the more I fought, the harder Dorian pressed on my throat. It became
difficult to breathe, black dots clouding my vision. Finley’s cries were growing louder as Stella drew
designs on his skin with his knives, his blood flowing onto the ground.
“Let him go,” I sobbed, tears running down my face as I watched my Runner scream.
“No,” Stella cackled. She knelt behind him. “I like him.” I watched her glance up slightly, waiting
for an almost imperceptible nod from Dorian.
Then she dug her fangs into Finley’s throat.
“They say Runner blood tastes better than all the rest,” Dorian said to me as Finley screeched.
“Tell me, what does vampire blood taste like?”
 I ignored him, still trying to pull away to help Finley. I was lightheaded, my breathing ragged and
impaired. I had to help him. He was my Runner. He needed me. He was covered in blood and his
screams had to echo for miles. Someone was going to come - someone would call the police and help
us. I saw stars in my vision, more and more of them by the second. I was going to pass out.
My hand closed on the dagger on my waist, finally shifting enough to grab it. Dorian was faster.
He pinned both of my hands against the wall, hissing with his fangs bared. The stake fell from my
hand.
“Easy, Miss Ashburn, or I’ll kill you too.”
I watched Stella look up with Finley’s blood leaking down her mouth. She picked up a knife off
the ground and I watched, frozen in time, as she drove it into his neck and twisted. Blood spurted.
Finley’s mouth opened in a silent cry.
Then he fell forward.
Dorian let me go.
I scrambled across the filthy floor, sobbing as I picked up my bleeding Runner to place his head in
my lap. His eyes fluttered and I tried to place my hands over the wound, but there was so much blood.
Frantically, I pulled my shirt over my head, using it to absorb the blood. In seconds, it was completely
soaked.
Finley moaned one more time and then he didn’t move again.
“No, no, no, it’s okay,” I sobbed, shaking him and causing more blood to spill on the ground.
“Finley, hang in there. I’m right here.”
Nothing.
“Don’t leave me!” I screamed, falling over him. I pulled him against me, worried about the blood
pouring out of him as I tried to hold the wound closed. I held him like a child, screaming and crying
for help, begging him to stay with me, reminding him that I was here to protect him.
I was supposed to protect them all. I was the Lead Runner. He’d placed his life in my hands and
trusted me to keep him alive. I’d failed. I was playing a game with the most powerful vampires in the
world and they’d won this round.
Sirens somewhere in the distance.
Footsteps.
Someone screaming, another calling my name.
Hands pulling me from my Runner.
I screamed, thrashing in rage and desperate to wrap myself around Finley again. I had to keep him
safe. I had to keep him alive. I could not fail.
I was Phoenix Ashburn; I could keep him alive.
It was my job to keep him safe.
I was Phoenix Ashburn.
I was…
I...
 Chapter 18

I stared at the gray hospital walls for a long time.

Humans were warm when they died.
I’d forgotten that.
Years ago, when Milo died in my arms, I’d realized it for the first time. Vampires went ice cold
almost immediately, but humans stayed warm. Their blood was warm when it soaked into my clothes,
their skin was too warm even when they lay dead on cold asphalt. Holding a dead human was the
worst feeling in the world.
I wasn’t sure when everything stopped being such an overwhelming blur, but now I sat alone in
the hallway and counted my own heartbeats as they echoed through my ears. For a while, everything
had been a dizzying mess of people shouting my name, asking me questions, needing me while I
shivered - drenched to the bone in the blood of my Runner. Everything had been so loud and
paralyzing. Now there was only white noise. I wasn’t sure when my screams turned to silence.
I wore dry clothes that the hospital gave me, sweatpants that were too big and a nurse’s old scrub
shirt. I didn’t remember changing from my bloody clothes into the clean ones, but I was grateful to be
warm.
Finley was dead.
He was dead before we got to the hospital. He was probably dead before the ambulance arrived.
He was dead somewhere on a cold table in a cold room, his body slowly losing the last of the warmth
that kept him alive. He was dead because of me.
If I’d been a second or two faster, he might have lived. Instead, he was dead and now I was here
with another body on my hands because I’d failed in my role as Lead Runner. I failed.
I had to wait here for his parents. I had to tell them that I failed their son. Six months ago, I’d
sworn to protect Finley from things that went bump in the night. I remembered the ceremony well, his
parents lingering on the outside. His mother cried; his father was stoic. They’d walked out before the
end. That was the last time Finley had seen his parents.
I’d sent my other Runners home, unable to bear their devastated faces and their tears. Jonah was
full of silent rage and Beck was outwardly sobbing. Shina was lost somewhere in the middle. I was
sure they blamed me, and I couldn’t find the strength to argue. It was my fault Finley was dead.
I rubbed my hands on my face, sucking in a long breath and forcing back the next wave of tears
that threatened to overcome me. I’d cried for hours, screamed until my throat was raw. My eyes and
my throat burned, and my hands shook when I lifted them from digging my nails into my knees.
“Water?”
I looked up to see a kind-eyed nurse offering me a bottle of water. I accepted it silently, trying to
ignore her lingering. Surely, she was trying to help the desolate girl in the waiting room. I was so
close to breaking that I couldn’t even bring myself to thank her.
“Miss Ashburn?” I huffed out a long breath and looked up to see a different nurse. I didn’t know
how much time had passed since the last one. “His parents are here to see you.”
I straightened, shoving the rest of my emotion down my throat.
I didn’t have any more to give.

I UNLOCKED the door to the apartment, my hand shaking at the effort. It was almost noon, but all the
curtains were closed. It was like walking into a cave of despair. Beck sat at the bar, their head resting
on the countertop. Small snores fell from their mouth and a full glass of water sat untouched next to
their hand. Jonah was on the couch, staring at the TV on mute. Shina slept with her head on his
shoulder.
Jonah looked up when I walked in, his eyes blank. I shut the door behind me, letting my head hang
as I trudged down the hall to my room. I left the door to my room open while I kicked off my shoes
and dropped the bag of my bloody clothes on the ground next to my hamper.
Finley’s parents had been hysterical. They’d shaken me and screamed and cried until the hospital
orderlies dragged them away. I only had the energy to stand in front of them and nod blankly. Now I
wanted to sit on the floor of the shower until the water burned my pain away.
“Phoenix.”
I looked to see Jonah standing in the doorway, circles under his eyes. “Yes, Jonah?” I huffed,
letting my hair out of the lazy bun I’d wrapped it in.
“Is the vampire who killed Finley dead?”
“No.”
Jonah’s jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you kill them?”
“I was busy trying to stop the bleeding.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?” He snapped.
I inclined my chin. “What are you saying?”
He straightened. “I’m saying this doesn’t make sense. You are unharmed, not a scratch or a bruise
on you. Finley is dead.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time for anything but lies anymore. Where have you been?”
“What do you mean?”
I tensed when Beck appeared behind Jonah, their eyes full of suspicion. “We mean,” Beck said,
stepping into my room. “We know you’ve been lying to us about where you’ve been at night. We think
your lies got Finley killed.”
“Finley’s lack of guts got him killed,” I snapped in response. “He froze. He let go of his blade.
His death was his own fault.”
Another lie.
“And where were you?” Beck raised their voice.
 I reached down and grabbed my bloody clothes, throwing them at their feet. They spilled out,
staining the light-colored carpet. “Trying to keep him from bleeding out.”
Beck crossed both arms over their stomach, looking nauseated.
“That doesn’t explain where you’ve been the other nights.” Shina joined the others, looking as
tired and angry as the rest of them.
“Dating.” I was delighted at how easily the lie rolled off my tongue. “I met a guy.”
There was silence.
I stared at them, trying to gauge whether or not they accepted my lie. For a moment, all their faces
were like stone like their minds had gone completely blank. Then Beck burst into hysterical laughter.
I bristled. “How is that funny?”
Beck shook their head, clutching their chest as they laughed and laughed and laughed. Jonah and
Shina looked awkwardly between the two of us.
Beck looked up, their laughter fading to dark silence. “God help the man who falls for your
bullshit.”
They turned on their heel and walked away.
The other Runners followed them.
 Chapter 19

I looked down at the stack of Runner applications on the table in front of me. There were hundreds
of them, so many novice Runners wanted to be on Phoenix Ashburn’s team. I’d thought coming to
a coffee shop would be better than trying to work in a gloomy apartment, but I had gotten a
headache. The other Runners didn’t want to consider applications yet, but I had a job to do and a
space to fill.
Finley’s funeral was two days ago. I didn’t go. I sent the rest of the Runners to console Finley’s
family instead. I couldn’t bear the thought of lowering his body into the ground. My Runners weren’t
speaking to me. I’d woken up yesterday and they’d gone on a run without me.
They were angry and looking for someone to blame. They blamed me. I did too, a little, but I
wasn’t the one who killed Finley. I’d gotten to him as quickly as I could. I’d had to save my own life
first, a very powerful vampire at my throat. To get to him any faster, I would have had to break my
own neck.
Stella Khatri had killed him. She’d killed him and hadn’t even looked back to watch him die.
More than anything, I wanted to do the same thing to her. Except, I wanted to watch. I’d relish
watching her die. With each passing moment, my grief was turning to rage, and I knew exactly where
to direct it.
I ruffled through the application papers again, shaking my head in frustration. Just as I stood to go
get another shot of espresso, a name caught my eye.
Abigail Ashburn.
I sank back into the chair, snatching the file from the mountainous stack. I flipped it open, sucking
in a deep breath at my sister’s face. She looked a lot like me - the same red hair and gray eyes. Except
she had a dazzling smile, a kindness about her that I’d never been able to replicate.
We’d never gotten along as children.
Abigail was bright and happy. She loved to read and paint and listen to love songs on full blast in
her headphones. She had celebrity crushes, and never watched vampire attacks on the news. And I
was… me. I was angry, water boiling over the edges, threatening to start a fire at any moment. I was
easily frustrated by her, and she stayed away from me.
I had one good memory of us as kids. I was ten and she was seven. Mom had gone out grocery
shopping and left us home alone. Abigail wanted strawberry milk with her peanut butter and jelly
sandwich. We didn’t have any Nesquik mix. So, we mashed up strawberries and dumped them into the
milk, thinking it would taste the same. We got strawberry pulp all over the fridge and the counter, and
we ate more than we tried to squash. The milk tasted disgusting, but we drank it anyway because
Abigail cried when I suggested we dump it out.
I’d never imagined a sweet little girl could become a Runner.
I never bothered to ask why.
My relationship with my family was rocky at best, but I thought applying to my team would have
been something they’d told me. Abigail was nineteen now, which meant she would have been training
to be a Runner for seven years. I flipped through the papers and there was nothing I didn’t already
know. She started at the Los Angeles Runner Institute and then transferred to San Francisco. Now, it
seemed like she lived in Denver. I wrinkled my nose, nothing impressive. Her scores were
acceptable at best; she excelled at nothing. She spent a month on a small team in Colorado Springs
and she had four tallies that counted the number of vampires she killed in that month. The application
was dated six months ago. I pulled out my phone with confusion, dialing the number for the Denver
Runner Institute.
A too-preppy voice answered a moment later. I rolled my eyes, ignoring whatever they said.
“This is Phoenix Ashburn. I need information on one of the Runners who attended, or attends, your
institute.”
The girl stuttered over her words as she responded. “Miss Ashburn, what an honor to be speaking
with you. Who are you looking for?”
“Abigail Ashburn.”
“I see here that she applied for your team six months ago, Miss Ashburn. However, she is
currently not enrolled in any Runner Institute.”
“She dropped out?”
“It seems so. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”
“Do you know where she is now?” I asked. My mind was reeling. I talked to my sister a few
weeks ago. We talked several times a year - how had it never come up that she was planning to drop
out? I wondered what had happened. Had she been hurt? Had she found something else she wanted to
do? Why hadn’t she told me?
I felt betrayed.
I felt… sad.
“I don’t. I’m sorry, Ms. Ashburn.”
I hung up. I tried to call my mother. I tried to call Abigail. Neither of them answered. I slammed
my phone down on the table and raked my fingers through my hair.
I picked up my phone when it dinged.
Busy tonight?
I couldn’t help the rush of dread that ran through me to see Dorian Sterling’s name on the screen.
I’d barely made a dent in the list he’d given me, meaning I’d probably be working this job much
longer than I wanted to. He’d been silent for nearly a week while I dealt with burying my Runner and
trying to find a replacement, though it seemed my grace period was up.
Still, my heart fluttered in excitement. Dorian Sterling’s world of vampires was nothing like what
I could find on the overcrowded Brooklyn streets. I was used to young vampires, stupid ones who
didn’t look over their shoulder and believed they were invincible when, really, they were leeches to
be eliminated. Vampires like Dorian, though, were the epitome of monsters. They lived in a world
drenched in blood and power and, for the short while I was a part of it, I felt unstoppable. It was
exhilarating to be handed the power to kill some of the world’s most influential vampires and not
suffer any repercussions.
I hated that this job meant I was lying to people who trusted me with their lives. It was even more
of a lie, though, to pretend I didn’t enjoy it.
My fingers hovered over the keypad as I chewed on my bottom lip. Yes. Vampires to kill.
Trouble to cause. What do you want?
The next text to come through was an address in Brooklyn, accompanied by a short message. Be
there in an hour.
I huffed out a long breath, gathering up all the papers in front of me. I searched the address on
Google Maps while I walked out of the coffee shop, surprised to discover it was an Italian restaurant.
I walked back to the apartment, glancing around at my half-conscious Runners when I arrived.
They barely acknowledged me as I walked inside, setting my bag on the counter. I talked casually
about the new Runners I thought I might interview for the team and none of them looked up from the
couch. Beck had a bottle of whiskey in their hand and their bare feet hung in the air as they laid
sideways on the couch. Shina was on the ground, staring at the closed window. Jonah was watching
the TV on mute again.
I walked down the hall to change into more appropriate clothes than my leggings and cardigan. I
opted for all black, leaving my belt off, and tucking an extra blade into each of my boots. I strapped a
stake to one forearm and a knife to the other, letting loose sleeves hide them. I let my hair hang over
my shoulders, not wanting to invite any pests to latch onto my throat and took a moment to put on
basic makeup.
I tucked my phone into my back pocket and strolled out of the room, sighing when I glanced at my
team.
“I’m going on a run,” I announced. “I’ll call if I need anything.”
None of them answered me.
I left a note on the counter just in case.

I ARRIVED AT THE RESTAURANT , sucking in a deep breath. It was a hole-in-the-wall place, but there
was a line out the door of people waiting to eat. I looked both ways before crossing the street,
slipping into the shadows before anyone noticed I was here. Civilians had a tendency to panic when
they saw Runners because they automatically assumed there were vampires nearby. I didn’t have the
patience to deal with that this evening.
Just as I pulled out my phone to text Dorian, he stepped out of the restaurant.
His eyes roamed over the crowd before correcting himself, probably realizing I would never
linger in the middle of a civilian mess. I waited in the dark, holding my breath, curious to see how
long it would take him to find me. He eyed the street and the side of the building, and then his eyes
settled on me leaning against the next building. I stood from my hiding spot, walking to meet him
halfway. I inclined my chin, daring him to speak first.
He did. “The man in the gray suit is about to sign over the deed to his company to me. As soon as
he does, I want him dead.”
“Am I to be your Runner tonight, too?” My voice came out angrier than I intended. I was enraged,
a fire burning deep in my soul, but I was on thin ice with the Coven Master and didn’t want any more
of my Runners to die.
 Dorian only smirked. “No, my date.”
I wrinkled my nose, glaring at him as he offered me his arm. Slowly, I stepped forward and
slipped my arm through his. “Fine, but don’t get handsy.”
To my surprise, he smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Ashburn.”
Following him inside was like stepping into Italy itself. There was a lively man playing the
organette in a corner and I nearly tripped turning to watch him play. He was grinning and a couple
tables closer were laughing with him. The whole restaurant smelled like bread and garlic, and I
fought back a smile as I walked next to Dorian. The restaurant was dimly lit, and the walls were a
pale tan with photos and relics from Italy decorating them. A few people turned to stare, and I caught
sight of fangs in their mouths as we passed.
Dorian led me to a booth in the back corner and I paused. There was no man in a gray suit, but
Stella Khatri sat on one corner. Immediately, I tensed and reached for a weapon.
Dorian’s arm tightened, keeping me next to him. “Play nice, both of you.”
Still, I growled.
Stella smiled sweetly. I’d never wanted to kill a vampire more in my life. If I wasn’t concerned
about making it out of here alive, I would have immediately jumped across the table at her. Dorian
motioned for me to sit first and I glared at him as I did.
“Nice to see you again, Phoenix. How was the funeral?” Stella’s eyes glittered as she watched
me, bringing a glass of wine to her lips. I paused when Dorian poured a glass for me, perfectly white.
My blood boiled and I straightened to swallow my rage. This was a nice restaurant, no reason to stain
the tablecloth. Still, my hand shook as I picked up the glass of wine, swirling it softly and taking a
small sniff. It smelled sweet, maybe fruity. Stella spoke again, her voice like nails down a
chalkboard. “You’re supposed to be his date, you could act like it.”
Glaring at her, I straightened. “Would you prefer I straddled him?”
Dorian cleared his throat next to me, setting his wine down. I ignored that it looked thicker and
redder than it should have.
“You would, wouldn’t you?” Stella challenged.
“Bite your tongue before I cut it out,” I snapped.
I jumped when Dorian moved next to me, lazily resting his arm around my shoulders. “Play nice,”
he warned. He opened his mouth to say something in response, but then he turned in unison with
Stella.
Our guest had arrived.
I looked up to see an older man in a slate gray suit. He looked to be in his mid-forties, streaks of
gray through his dark hair and a few wrinkles on his face. His mouth was fanged, revealing that he
was my victim for the night. Dorian and Stella stood to greet him, but I made no effort.
“What a pretty little girl you have.” The man’s eyes settled on me as Stella asked him to have a
seat.
“She’s with the Master,” Stella warned him, her voice sickeningly sweet and laced with poison.
I raised my chin, daring him to call me a little girl again. I’d leap across the table and slit his
throat before dessert. He was looking at me like I was something to eat. I bristled.
Dorian sat back down next to me and the instant his arm draped over my shoulders, the vampire
looked away.
I was with the Master.
Slowly, I smirked. Was this what it was like to be untouchable?
 Chapter 20

I f I wasn’t a Runner, I should have been an actress.

After our guest sat down, I leaned into Dorian, moving his arm over my shoulders. I sat
perfectly at the table so the Coven member in the gray suit, Dane, didn’t notice the weapons
strapped to me. I wore flared sleeves, so I kept my hands on or beneath the table, and my legs crossed
beneath me. Dorian played along, his cold fingers tracing along my shoulder above the low neckline
of my shirt. Dane wasn’t drunk, it wasn’t dark in here, there was nothing to keep his attention off of
me except for Dorian. It worked wonderfully. In Dane’s mind, I belonged to the Master and I
supposed that wasn’t such a bad feeling. I was worth more than him. I was invincible and unattainable
with Dorian’s hands on me.
Dane sat on one side of me, half talking business with Dorian and half trying to shove his tongue
down Stella’s throat. She was playing her role well enough, but every few minutes would shoot a
look of annoyance at me or Dorian. When she looked at me, I tried to hide my amusement and she’d
roll her eyes. Once, when she leaned away from Dane, I caught a glimpse of a blade strapped to her
hip, the silver stark against her brown skin.
I wondered if Dorian was armed too. Did he even need a weapon?
While Dane bothered Stella, I was acutely aware of Dorian’s breathing behind me. When I knew
Dane was watching me curiously, I let my head fall back onto Dorian’s shoulder so he could see the
pulse on my throat. If he was paying attention to me, he’d notice nothing else. It worked wonders.
Dane practically salivated. The first time I did it, I received a nod of approval from Stella, though I
noticed her eyes drop too.
Vampires: terribly predictable.
The food was delicious. I was surprised the vampires actually ate since they technically didn’t
need food to survive. Dane kept trying to feed spaghetti to Stella, and I swore she was going to bite
through her own tongue. I enjoyed watching her squirm, the need for vengeance bubbling within me. I
nibbled on my own fettuccine alfredo, keeping myself close enough to Dorian that Dane wouldn’t
dare look at me for longer than a second. During dinner, Dorian kept one arm around my shoulders.
Every few moments, he’d lean forward and whisper in my ear.
The first time, he joked how Stella was going to beat me to killing Dane. I nearly growled at the
threat. Dane was mine.
The second, he praised me for my performance. My soul soared.
 The third, he warned me to keep my chin down before I attracted the attention of more than Dane.
Each time he did, chills ran down my spine and my breath caught in my throat. Dorian’s lips
brushed my ear as he spoke, his fingers running daintily along my skin above my shirt. I hated how
much I enjoyed every second of this. I enjoyed the way Dane wouldn’t look at me even though I kept
my eyes on him, daring him to try something. I wished he would look at me the way he looked at
Dorian, with reverence and fear. I basked in the way the Coven Master held me close to him, like I
was his most prized weapon.
Beneath his touch, I felt dangerous.
Dessert was creme brulee and tiramisu. I made a point to make eye contact with Dane while I
licked my spoon, reaching up to rest my hand on Dorian’s arm. Still, I held eye contact as I traced
circles on Dorian’s wrist. Dane squirmed in discomfort.
He set the papers on the table.
I watched him sign, passing them to Dorian with a final nod. I ran my tongue over my spoon again,
slowly, deliciously. Dane gulped.
Dorian leaned down to sign his name.
I waited and watched them sign a few other pieces of paper. When Stella met my gaze across the
table, I knew it was time for me to do my job. I watched her stand, and then Dorian. Dane followed
them. I watched him linger in the middle of the table, closer to me than he should have been, yet still
in the perfect spot. I stood after Dorian, letting him slide one arm around my waist as I slipped my
stake into my hand.
“Oh, my purse,” I bluffed.
In one fluid movement, I turned back towards the table, sinking the stake into Dane’s chest.
Stella caught him before he fell, and blood poured down over my fingers. Dane’s eyes widened.
When he tried to speak, blood dripped from his mouth. I held him still for a moment, feeling his
heartbeat against the tip of the stake.
“Do you know who I am?” I whispered, stepping closer to him, like a lover in an embrace.
Dane shook his head.
“The name’s Phoenix Ashburn. Say it for me,” I breathed.
Again, he shook his head.
I inched the stake forward. “Say it and I’ll let you go.”
“Phoenix Ashburn,” he blurted, tears welling in his eyes.
Annoyed, I pushed the stake harder, feeling his ribs break and his heart lurch in shock. Once he
was dead, I pulled my weapon from his chest, wiping it on his shirt and coat while Stella lowered
him back into the booth. I huffed in disappointment. I’d wanted more. I wanted him to fight. I wanted
him to throw me against the wall and try to run.
Stella paid the waiter several hundred dollar bills and Dorian placed his hand on my shoulder,
leading me from the restaurant. “Stella, head home without me. I’m going to take Miss Ashburn
home,” Dorian said coolly, his face even.
Stella nodded to him, then to me as she sauntered away and slipped into a black car. I looked at
the Master of the Coven, trying not to think of how his lips felt on my ear. Still, my eyes dropped to
his mouth, and I took another step away from him, wiping my hands on my jeans.
“I can see myself home.”
“Walk with me.” Dorian ignored my comment, motioning for me to lead the way.
I huffed out a breath, walking away from the restaurant. For a while, we walked through the dark
streets back towards my apartment. I was only a couple of miles away from home. A couple times, I
had to glance over and remind myself that Dorian was still there. He moved as silently as the night
air. Finally, he stopped at a bench, clasping his hands behind his back as he looked down a busy street
of civilians going in and out of restaurants.
“What do you want from life, Miss Ashburn?” He asked quietly.
“Why do you care?”
“Answer me.” His voice hardened, taking on a hint of a threat.
I sighed, sitting down on the bench and leaning back. “I don’t know.”
I’d never thought about it. I’d always wanted to be a Runner. Now, I was. I was the best Runner in
the world. I didn’t need anything more.
“You do,” he growled, still watching the street intently. “Tell me.”
I narrowed my eyes as I looked at the Coven Master. I tapped my fingers on my knee slowly,
watching the same thing he was - people, happy, oblivious to the danger that lurked in the dark. From
here, I spotted three other vampires and longed to reach for my blades and rid the earth of them. Then
my eyes flicked to Dorian again, a god of death and darkness, a monster beyond their reach. He was
in mine, though, mere feet away and emanating an intoxicating amount of power. I ran my tongue over
my lips, remembering the way people stared at him as he walked by unbothered.
I wanted people to look at me like I was someone to be feared.
“Glory,” I said finally.
Dorian hummed, turning to look at me. “I have one more question.”
I inclined my chin, watching me.
He walked forward, leaning down to place one hand on the bench on either side of me. I was
trapped, a lamb beneath the lion. His viridian eyes bore down on me, and I tried to ignore him running
his tongue over his fangs rhythmically. My heart raced as I looked up at him, too surprised to even
reach for a weapon as I looked up at him.
“Do your Runners know what you are?” Dorian whispered.
“And what am I, Mr. Sterling?” I breathed, tilting my head up so I was even with him, his mouth
inches from mine.
Dorian leaned closer still. I couldn’t move without touching him. I could barely breathe without
my chest brushing against his. I jumped when he moved one hand to my throat, squeezing ever so
slightly as he held me still.
“A killer.”
With a growl of disgust, I shoved Dorian back and scrambled from the bench. He chuckled as I
gained my balance, turning to scowl as my heart galloped in my chest. I stood defensively, snarling at
his accusation.
“I am not a killer.”
I had never harmed a living being, never taken a life. I hunted the undead. There was a difference.
Dorian didn’t make another move to come closer to me, instead crossing his hands behind his
back again and forcing his smile back. “Aren’t you?”
I stared at him for a moment, reminding myself who he was. He could kill me in an instant if I
wasn’t careful with my next move. He didn’t look angry. Instead, he looked amused.
“No.”
“How many vampires have you killed?” He took a single step forward.
I took one back.
Dorian’s eyes flicked down to watch me move. My gaze never left his face.
Again, he stepped forward. “How many, Miss Ashburn?”
 I stepped back, watching his eyes brighten with delight. This was a game to him.
I slid a dagger into my hand, twisting the hilt in my palm.
“Your first instinct when threatened is to kill me, is it not?”
I threw the blade.
He didn’t move. He let it sink into his chest, opposite his heart. I regretted my move almost
instantly. I’d wanted to threaten him and remind him I was strong. I should have aimed directly for his
heart and killed him right then.
I tried to run, my stomach churning.
Dorian was already there, grabbing me by the throat with one hand and pulling the blade from his
chest with the other. There was a long squelching noise and then he extended the bloody knife towards
me. I groaned as he pressed the tip of the blade to my lips, hard enough to break skin - a kiss of death.
Blood dripped down my chin and I didn’t know whether it was his or mine. Dorian pressed harder
and I sucked in a breath, pain spreading along my lip. His grip on my throat tightened, I struggled to
take a deep breath.
“Answer the question,” he hissed. “How many vampires have you killed?”
“I don’t know,” I growled, bravely trying to ignore the blade cutting my skin as I spoke.
Dorian moved back, dropping the dagger at my feet. Immediately, I placed one foot over the hilt,
watching him take a few steps back. I stayed where I was as he walked in a slow circle around me - a
predator preparing to pounce.
“A hundred?” He purred. “Five hundred? A thousand? Stop me when I’m close.”
I swallowed.
“Two thousand?” His voice darkened.
“Not that many,” I rasped, fighting the urge to lick my bloody lips.
Still, he walked in a circle. “That’s a lot of kills, Phoenix. Imagine if a human serial killer had
over a thousand victims. Interesting, isn’t it, how the human government turns a blind eye to the most
prolific killers right under their noses?”
“It’s not the same,” I snapped, spinning towards him.
Dorian moved with dizzying speed, shoving me up against a streetlight. His hand closed over my
throat, and he caught my arm as I tried to trigger my wooden stake. I snarled beneath his grip, feeling
the bones in my hand ache in protest.
“Isn’t it?” Dorian whispered, pinning both of my hands above my head against the street light. I
sank back away from him. “Vampires have families too- fathers, daughters, lovers. Each one of them
has their own personality, their own money, their own life. We eat, sleep, drink, and fuck just like
humans.” His hand tightened on my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. “Tell me how it’s different,
Phoenix.”
I pulled my arms down roughly, knocking him off balance for half a second. I slipped my blade
back into my hand and twisted my body. Ducking beneath a swipe of his arms, I kicked Dorian back
with a grunt. He stumbled, moving out of my grip. He was surprisingly predictable though, I guessed
his next move and stepped backwards instead of forwards. He stepped right into my stake. It sank into
his stomach, and I watched his eyes widen in shock.
“Vampires aren’t human,” I growled, pushing it harder into his flesh. He groaned deeply,
wavering. “They’re monsters that prey on the weak. I’m ridding the world of vermin.” I spat, shoving
it forward as hard as I could, until the hilt was embedded in his stomach and my hand pressed flat
onto his abdomen.
The Coven Master fell to his knees.
 Instead of running, I pulled another blade from my boot, stepping behind him and grabbing him by
the hair. Dorian groaned as I tilted his head back, pressing my knife to his throat roughly. I watched
him gurgle and groan, struggling to breathe with a wooden stake lodged in his stomach. I enjoyed
watching him writhe in pain and knowing I’d inflicted it. The most powerful vampire in the world
was on his knees for me. Slowly, I leaned down to whisper in his ear, pulling his back against my
chest. He was trying to pull the stake out of his stomach, but I’d shoved the hilt as far into his flesh as
I could.
“Including you,” I breathed.
Before I could slice open his throat, he moved, and I knew I’d relished the moment for too long. I
fell hard back against the asphalt, winded, watching him stand to pull the stake out without hesitation.
He flipped it into the air, catching it easily, standing straight with rage in his features. Dorian placed
one boot on my stomach, holding me down as he glared. Blood dripped down his shirt and his neck,
fury filled his features.
“You know what your problem is, Phoenix?” Dorian snapped. “You enjoy this too much. You had
a moment then. You could have killed me if I was any other vampire on the street. Instead, you had to
keep yapping your mouth.” He twisted my stake in his hand. “I am eight hundred years old, a little
weapon like this cannot bring me down.”
I didn’t see him move then, but I felt the stake as it sank into my stomach. Dorian knelt over me,
covering my mouth to muffle my scream as he pressed the stake an inch into my flesh, slowly.
“I’m running out of patience, Miss Ashburn.” He said, pushing the stake deeper. I screamed into
his hand, pain coursing through me. I couldn’t move, I could only tremble and scream at the
excruciating pain. “Don’t make me grow tired of keeping you alive.”
“You need me,” I snarled against his hand.
He pushed harder.
Blinding white pain. Another scream. “No, I don’t. I want you, there’s a difference,” he
whispered.
Dorian pulled the stake from my stomach, sitting up to run his fingers over the blood on his throat.
I coughed and sobbed as he traced them over my lips and on my tongue. Vampire blood. My eyes slid
shut, full of tears and smeared makeup as I trembled in what was left of my agony. I slumped against
the asphalt, groaning, remnants of pain flooding through me.
When I opened my eyes, he was gone.
Why was he keeping me alive?
I sat up slowly, my hand shaking as I lifted my shirt to look at what was left of the wound on my
stomach. As I looked at it, it closed over, the last of the pain becoming an echo. I trembled as I pushed
myself to my feet, gathering my weapons off the ground and strapping them back to my body - blood
and all.
I looked up at the busy street, pausing. Not a single person looked up. No one noticed the vampire
and Runner on the outskirts of their safe little world. Not a single person heard me scream. I pulled
my dagger tight on my forearm in frustration. These civilians got to live their lives like this because of
people like me. Runners had high kill counts to protect humans and keep them oblivious.
I protected every single one of them.
I was not a killer.
I was justice.
 Chapter 21

W hen I walked into the apartment, Beck was sitting at the counter. They’d showered, brushed
their hair, and put on a fresh set of pajamas. Their eyes and cheeks seemed sunken and dark,
but they looked up with a sigh when I shut the door behind me.
“Rough night?” They rasped, looking over the bloody and ripped clothing I traipsed in with. I
nodded once, eyeing them nervously. I prayed they wouldn’t ask where I’d been. I didn’t have the
energy to lie tonight. I closed my hands behind my back to hide their trembling. Beck brushed their
fingers through their hair and rubbed their chin before motioning to the large stack of papers I’d left
on the counter. “New Runners?”
Again, I nodded.
Beck swallowed. “Anything good?”
My shoulders slumped and I forced back tears of exhaustion as I limped forward to sit on the
barstool next to them. The silence in the apartment over the last few days had become suffocating and
Beck’s invitation felt like a breath of fresh air. My Runners were still mad at me; I supposed they had
every right to be. Still, it felt so good to hear Beck’s voice. I shuffled through the stacks I’d left,
pulling out the seven files of Runners who would be flying in to visit this weekend.
I could only hope the rest of the team wouldn’t lose their minds when they found out I was
interviewing new Runners. There was a protocol to follow, requirements that meant a team couldn’t
operate with less than a designated number of Runners. I had to add a new member to our team, or
we’d be grounded. We’d have to undergo a deep inspection of our qualifications and operation. With
the Coven’s knife to my throat, I couldn’t afford to have the Runner Institute looking too deeply into
my whereabouts. It wasn’t fair to replace Finley so soon, I knew, but it had to be done.
I watched Beck shuffle through the first set of files. They wrinkled their nose a couple of times
and looked over at me twice. I sifted through the rest of them, in case I missed something before.
Nothing, all the same unimpressive replicated applications. These Runners thought they were great
enough to apply to my team, but not one of them held a candle to the people in this room.
“These are not great,” Beck mumbled, flipping to the last file. “That’s all of them?”
I pushed the stack towards them. “Pretty pathetic, but you’re welcome to take a look.”
“Do we have any food?” Beck sighed as they began opening files. Immediately, they grimaced and
tossed the first one onto the floor.
 I slipped from my chair, moving to the kitchen to open the fridge and then the pantry. I pulled out a
mac and cheese bake and shoved it in the oven along with some french bread. While I waited for food
to cook and Beck to complete their review, I showered and changed into pajamas.
When I returned, Beck offered me one more file. “No brains but lots of brawn.”
I looked at the file. “I hate stupid gym heads.”
“We don’t have a lot of brute strength; we function off of speed. Might be good to at least try it.”
Beck shrugged.
I nodded, flicking through the papers with distaste. I preferred my team smart and fast, but Beck
was right - maybe we could use a little bit of a change. “I’ll call them when the sun’s up.”
“What’s the plan with all of these, then?” Beck stacked the potential Runners candidates in one
pile, tapping the top as they sank into their chair.
“I thought individual runs would be good,” I told them, leaning against the fridge as I ate my
dinner. “One at a time, we’ll test them and see what they’re made of.”
“What are you looking for?”
I shrugged. “Bravery, innovation. I’m not expecting them to make a kill, but I am expecting them to
act like a part of the team. Are you up for this?”
Beck smiled. “I love a good challenge.”
When we were finished looking through Runner files, Beck turned on the news. I settled into my
spot next to them on the couch, still munching on garlic bread. For a while, we watched the same old
news - murderer on the streets of Manhattan, a Florida man doing something absurd, and some
celebrity did nothing.
I’d begun to doze off when a headline caught my eye.
Anti-Runner Movement Gaining Traction in Denver, CO
Beck sat up in the same moment I did, our breaths catching. We knew there were people out there
who didn’t believe the world needed Runners. They thought humans and vampires could live in
unison. Most of them were ignorant to the true monstrosity of vampires.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw a familiar face in the middle of the TV.
Abigail.
My younger sister stood on a pedestal, a vampire at her side, holding up a sign about letting
vampires live. A whole crowd was gathered around them, cheering at every world out of Abigail’s
mouth. She cheered about living in harmony. She preached about the sanctity of life after death. My
blood ran cold. Frantically, I tried again to call my mother, then Abigail. Neither of them answered.
My own sister was leading an anti-Runner movement.
Beck pulled out their laptop, searching the movement and its leaders. Sure enough, Abigail
Ashburn was at the top of the list. A couple of sources said she’d trained as a Runner for years to
understand the inner workings of the Runner Institution before taking her place at the head of this
movement. Dread and horror sank into me when I remembered my conversation with the Runner
Institute in Denver - they said she’d dropped out. This must have been why. There were many articles
commenting on the irony of her being the younger sister of Phoenix Ashburn, the most prolific Runner
alive.
I had no idea. I had never considered Abigail running a platform like this. I wondered how many
times we’d sat on the phone together and talked about nothing, only to have my sister plotting behind
my back and conspiring with monsters.
I felt like she’d driven a knife into my back.
THE FIRST RUNNER TO arrive was a ginger with an obnoxious southern twang; her name was Gwen.
She was accompanied by a thin, unassuming boy named Terry. I’d chosen both of them for their
aptitude test scores. I could train physical endurance and bravery, but intelligence had to come
naturally.
Jonah retreated to his room shortly before they arrived. Shina forced herself to shower and help
us clean up the apartment. She was still silent, grief clear on her face, but she understood what had to
happen. Beck still hadn’t managed to get a word out of Jonah. I wished he’d come out - the new
Runners could learn a lot from him.
I lingered down the hallway, like we’d discussed, when there was a timid knock at the door. I
heard it open, and Beck’s cheerful voice as they greeted the newcomers. Gwen spoke up first,
introducing herself bravely. Her voice didn’t waver, and I leaned against the wall, nodding to myself
in approval. Terry’s voice was quieter, it shook slightly. He was a master of explosives, and had
created a blade that released gunpowder into a vampire’s chest. He was brilliant. I let his quiet nature
slide.
“It’s great to have you both here,” Beck said. “We’re going to have a bit of a sleepover this
weekend, as there’s seven of you coming. See this floor? Make it your bed.”
“I’ve never been to New York,” Gwen said. I heard a duffel bag hit the floor. “What are the
vampires like here?”
I pursed my lips. It was a good question.
“They can be anything - from the homeless man to the richest executive,” Shina answered. “It’s
what makes it so fun.”
“I’ve heard y’all have your own cleanup team that does the work for you,” Gwen continued. I
decided I liked her. “I’m from Savannah, the Runners there did the disposal as well. Waste of time if
you ask me.”
“There are more vampires here.” I decided to speak then, walking out of the hallway. I was
dressed in complete Runner attire, black on black and decorated with weapons, looking every bit the
legend I was. “If we waste our time taking out the garbage, we’ll miss the party.”
Gwen and Terry’s eyes both widened.
Immediately, Gwen stepped forward, holding out her hand. “Gwen Richards. It’s an honor to meet
you, Phoenix.”
I shook her hand, offering her a kind smile. “Good to have you here.” I extended my hand to Terry
as well, who took it nervously. He introduced himself in a mumble and I stood straighter. “Have
either of you been on a real run before?”
Both of them shook their heads.
I nodded. I’d already assumed as much. “We’re going to go in groups of four. Two of us, and two
of you at a time. Every minute of your time here is a test.”
A light sparked in Gwen’s eyes. Terry looked worried.
The next two Runners were from the New Orleans Institute. One was the gym head Beck had
picked, who complained about the stairs to the apartment the moment he stepped in the door. The
other was a dainty, panther-like girl who moved so silently I had to keep an eye on her. Neither of
them held my attention for very long. The gym head practically cowered in fear when he saw me
perched on the counter after walking in the door. The panther girl introduced herself, but then said
nothing else.
A Runner from Seattle had a dragon tattoo on her arm. A guy with glasses never shut up about how
excited he was to be in New York City. The last girl looked like she belonged on the cover of a
magazine, but I’d seen her file - she was stronger than she looked.

THE FIRST THREE runs of the night were pathetic. I was almost grateful we didn’t run into any
vampires. I tested their strength and reaction time with different scenarios. I let them show me how
they used their weapons of choice and staged fights between them and my Runners. Not a single
candidate impressed me. I wanted to pick one and get this over with. Bringing Finley onto my team
had been easy. He was scared, but he was excellent with his knives. Each of these Runners were
mediocre at best. They could make it onto average Runner teams; they were an embarrassment to
mine.
On the first run, I took Shina and two Runner potentials - the panther girl and the model. They
jumped at every noise in the dark, and were too easily distracted by the city. The second time, I took
Beck, Terry, and the gym head. Within ten minutes, the gym head had flexed his biceps for Beck four
times. They looked ready to rip his head off. Terry followed behind in the dark, watching. On the third
run, I went with Shina, the dragon tattoo girl, and the guy with glasses. They talked too much.
On the fourth run, the last one of the night, I took Beck again. Then I pointed to Gwen and
motioned for her to follow us. I was getting tired, my legs aching from the miles I’d run. We walked
along the dark. Beck and Gwen talked about different parts of the city we liked to pay special
attention to. I led the way, watching the shadows.
With each run, my anger was growing. I was getting tired and frustrated with each pathetic set of
Runner wannabes I’d invited here. Now, I kept a brisk pace, praying I could make a kill tonight.
I kept thinking of the adrenaline I felt in the restaurant with the Coven a few nights ago. I’d
enjoyed playing the role and longed for a challenge. The rush of that kill ran through me still, though I
knew any vampires I found tonight wouldn’t be so exhilarating. I hadn’t heard from Dorian or Stella,
though I was expecting a text any night now.
“What’s it like to be on a Runner team, realistically?” Gwen babbled, walking in unison next to
Beck. “They don’t really tell us these things. Is it a 24/7 job? Do you do anything other than this? Do
you have friends?”
Beck chuckled. “Your team is the extent of your friends. They become your family, they’re the
only ones who really understand what you’re experiencing. We spend our free time eating or going to
the gym.”
“What about dating?” Gwen never stopped talking. I gritted my teeth.
“Oh, definitely not,” Beck cackled.
I glanced over. “Most men are terrified of Runner women,” I said blandly.
Beck skipped up to me. “How’s your date going?”
For half a second, I didn’t know what they were talking about. Then I remembered I’d used dating
as a lie to cover what I’d been doing for the Coven. I gulped, hoping Beck hadn’t caught my
hesitation. I forced a smile. “I intimidate most men, so, not well.”
Beck grinned at me. “Did you at least get some-”
I cut them off. “No.”
 “What’s it like to kill a Coven Monarch?” Gwen babbled on, unbothered.
“Don’t fuck with the Coven. It’s not worth it.”
I made a mistake. I knew it the moment the words left my mouth. I watched realization cross
Beck’s face, accompanied by horror and anger. They knew then what happened to Finley. Maybe they
didn’t know anything else, but they knew that much. Tears welled in their eyes. I sucked in a deep
breath, turning away from them and continuing on the walk. Part of me expected Beck to burst and
scream.
I licked my lips, straightening. “We should head back. I’ve seen enough.”

THE NEXT NIGHT , less than half of the Runners remained. I kept Gwen, Terry, and the panther girl
whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember yet. Beck had returned to not speaking or looking at me.
Gwen shifted nervously every time I walked into the room. My anger bubbled at the surface, but I kept
my mouth shut. Instead, I ordered around the Runner potentials, interviewing them to find their
preferred weapon and then arming them with the opposite. I’d seen their test scores with what they
were comfortable with - I wanted to know how they performed under pressure.
I was in no mood to make friends. I wanted to get this over with.
I sent Gwen and the panther girl with Beck and Jonah, who had finally come out of his room. Beck
was angry with me, but I trusted them to evaluate the Runner potentials properly. I kept Terry and
Shina joined us on our run. Terry preferred fire as his weapon of choice, so I stuck him with only a
stake and a dagger. The smaller weapons required him to get up close and personal. I kept running
until they were out of breath. I wanted them to work for this. We found our first vampire when they
were breathless and sweaty, unaccustomed to actually being out all night. Shina and I remained
unfazed.
I held my hand up to stop Shina, murmuring that we’d step in when we had to. She nodded,
watching Terry try to figure out what to do about the vampire lurking in the shadows. The vampire’s
eyes were on a couple of girls stumbling out of a bar two doors down; he hadn’t even seen the Runner
yet.
“He won’t make it.” Shina sucked in a breath, her hand on a blade in her belt. I watched the
Runner struggle to blend into the crowd, nervously looking around and then back at me and Shina.
I pulled my own blade, spinning it in my hand.
The vampire saw Terry first.
I watched the recognition cross his face, but he pretended he didn’t notice yet. Shina inclined her
chin, watching in unison with me. Terry ran forward, his feet loud on the concrete.
“Stupid boy,” I growled, moving forward as the vampire spun to meet Terry’s attack. The Runner
potential immediately fell back, blubbering in terror.
The vampire didn’t see me and Shina behind him, he was too focused on the easy prey in front of
him. I sliced his throat easily and Shina staked him. Terry threw up.
I wiped the blood off on my pants, glaring at him. “That was pathetic. Every person on this street
saw you coming. He saw you ten seconds before you decided to blunder towards him.” I motioned to
the dead vampire. “Surely the Institute trains you better.”
“It was my first time!” Terry whimpered, his voice cracking.
Anger coursed through me and I shook my head. I saw the shadows move behind me. Another
vampire. Spinning quickly, I pulled a blade from my belt and threw it hard. It sank easily into the
chest of the vampire.
I tensed, reaching for another blade, but the vampire had already fallen hard. He must have been
friends with the dead one, judging by the grief and anguish on his face. I stalked forward, killing him
easily and letting him slump to the ground.
“Good one, Red.” Shina nodded in approval.
I looked at the Runner potential. “That’s how you stay alive.”
He said nothing on the way back to the apartment.
 Chapter 22

I practically kicked the door open when we returned to the apartment, unable to control my
frustration, only to freeze half a step through the doorway.
Abigail stood in the middle of my living room.
Beck stood next to her like a guardian angel. I stepped further into the room to let Shina and Terry
file in behind me. I hadn’t seen my sister in years - she was shorter than I remembered. Abigail wore
leggings and a loose shirt and there were dark bags under her eyes that led me to believe she hadn’t
slept in days. There was a duffel bag on the ground at her feet. I looked between my little sister and
my second-in-command, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“What a surprise,” I said coolly, remembering what I’d seen on TV days ago. Abigail was leading
a movement against me. She’d had a vampire wrapped around her. I’d watched her lean into him like
a lover’s embrace.
“Easy, Red.” Beck held up their hand to keep me at bay. “She needs help.”
“Help?”
“I think there’s a vampire trying to kill me,” Abigail spoke then, her voice soft and submissive.
She sounded the opposite of what she’d looked like on the news. “Mom said I should come here.”
I hummed, tapping my fingers on my chin. She was lying. She was making an effort to hold eye
contact with me, but her fluttering hands gave her away. Abigail fluttered when she was lying - I
remembered that much about her, at least. Still, I played along, curious about why she was here. “Why
would there be a vampire after you?”
My phone dinged in my pocket. I tensed at the sound. The only people who ever texted me were
my Runners and Dorian - and all of my Runners were staring at me. I ignored the second ding,
watching Abigail and waiting for her answer.
Abigail gulped. “Well, I broke up with him.” I sneered in disgust, but she was still talking. “And
then I stole his blood.”
The whole room fell silent.
“You have vampire blood?” Beck asked, throat bobbing as they swallowed.
Abigail reached into her bag and pulled out a vial. She turned it over in her hand. “Some
scientists are trying to replicate its healing properties, but it's hard to come by. I was going to take it
to someone, but he came after me and I had to run.”
“So, you brought vampire blood to a house full of Runners?” Shina exclaimed, her eyes wide with
fear.
I licked my lips. Forty or fifty years ago, a Runner trapped a vampire and kept them hostage in a
basement. Each night, they took a little bit of the vampire’s blood to heal their wounds and make
themselves stronger. Eventually, the power drove them mad. It was now illegal for Runners to be
caught with vampire blood, though there were rumors that some still used it. I tried not to think about
the way it tasted like omnipotence.
“Yes, but Runners need it more than anyone.” Abigail’s eyes sparkled. “Imagine what humans
could do with this.”
“They do nothing,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “I can help you with your vampire problems, but
the blood goes down the drain.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“Now.”
My sister had the audacity to shake her head. Annoyance pricked along my skin and my phone
rang in my pocket. I swore, turning to answer it furiously.
“What?”
“I thought you’d be delighted to hear from me,” Dorian chuckled on the other end of the line.
“I’m busy, what do you want?” I glanced around the room - all eyes were on me.
“There’s a car outside. I need your help tonight.”
“I said-”
“That your sister I saw walking inside?” Dorian’s voice darkened, becoming a threat.
I closed my eyes. “Five minutes.”
“Perfect.”
I hung up. “I have to take care of something,” I said, looking around. My eyes burned into Abigail.
“Get rid of the blood before I’m back or I’ll send your ass home on the first plane out of here and let
your vampire deal with you.”
“Nice to see you too,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
“Where are you going?” Beck spoke up.
I paused before I turned to leave. “Nowhere.”
“Phoenix, please,” they begged.
I left without another word.
Downstairs, there was a black car idling next to the sidewalk. I stalked towards it, slipping
inside. I came face to face with Dorian and bristled at the memory of being called a killer. He was
dressed differently than he normally was. Still in all black, I was surprised to find that his shirt was
glittering and hung half open. His belt glittered as well, and he was wearing leather pants.
“Where are we going?”
“You’re underdressed,” he answered, licking his lips. On cue, the driver handed back a dress bag.
I sighed, taking it and pulling it open to reveal a scandalous little black dress.
“You expect me to work in this?”
“Of course.” Dorian smirked.
I glared, but the threatening tone in his voice when he mentioned Abigail still echoed through my
mind. If I didn’t do this job, she’d be the next one to die. I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to watch
anyone else die because of a choice I made. I unbuckled my belt, setting it behind me, well out of
Dorian’s immediate reach. I let my hair out of its high ponytail, brushing through it with my fingers. I
pulled the dress off the hanger, kicking off my boots in the small backseat. Without looking at the
Coven Master, I pulled my shirt over my head before pausing. My sports bra wouldn’t work with this
dress. I turned away from him before pulling my bra off too. I yanked on the dress from over my head,
shimmying out of my pants.
Dorian watched curiously as I unfurled my belt into several pieces. I slid one under my dress,
strapping it to the middle of my back and sheathing a dagger. A stake was pinned to my thigh, high
enough to not be detected.
“Shoes?” He reached into the front seat and handed me a pair of heels. I pulled them on, leaning
back against the seat with a huff. “Where are we going, Sterling?”
“A nightclub. The woman you’re after this evening is named Odette.”
“Odette isn’t a name on my list.” I bristled. “You said only the list.”
“Did I?” Dorian smirked slowly. Dread sank into me. “Either Odette dies tonight, or Abigail
does.”
“Can we add your name to that list?” I spat.
Dorian rolled his eyes. I hated that he wasn’t afraid of me. My fury was his amusement. He would
regret his ambivalence one day when I drove my stake through his heart.
I was silent the rest of the ride to the nightclub.

I STEPPED out of the car after Dorian, eyeing the long line of people waiting to be let in. Almost all of
them were vampires. Involuntarily, I stepped closer to the Coven Master. I felt like I was walking into
a den of wolves, and I was only a rabbit. He chuckled lightly, placing his hand on my upper back to
guide me inside. The bouncer nodded to him once, their eyes lingering hungrily on me for longer than
they should have.
I was met with the smell of smoke and blood, choking on a breath as I followed Dorian through a
dark hallway. I entered a large room, full of vampires dancing and drinking. A DJ stood in one corner,
laughing and raising a glass of blood to dump over his head. I surveyed the crowd, licking my lips as
I counted seventeen humans in the arms of vampires, bite marks on their necks. Their eyes were
distant, like they were high out of their minds. The room was lined with red velvet booths. Some of
them had groups of vampires in them, leaning over the table and drinking shots of blood and alcohol.
Others had naked women on the table - human and vampires alike. I averted my eyes from the
vampire woman who had a man’s face between her legs.
Dorian’s hand slipped lower on my back before resting on my hip, keeping me close to him as he
walked through the crowds. I looked over at him as the red lights danced across his face. When it was
dark, he disappeared from my sight, but the next moment he was glowing red. He looked almost
ethereal, and I forgot about my fear. Twice, blood splashed on my face and on my chest as I twisted
through gyrating bodies. Both times, Dorian looked at me and his jaw clenched as he watched blood
trail down my skin before he dragged me further through the crowd.
He led me to one of the velvet booths, where a woman already lounged back. She looked a bit
like an angel, all platinum blonde hair and dark skin. Her red lips spread into a smile as she stood to
greet Dorian. She must be Odette.
“You said it would be just us,” she whined to Dorian in a thick French accent.
“I was referring to the absence of my Successor,” Dorian responded. “However, I’m parched.
Shall we order drinks?”
“Did you bring an appetizer?” Odette’s eyes flicked to me.
 Dorian’s grip on my hip tightened and I tensed. “No. She’s with me.”
Odette narrowed her eyes, but shrugged, sliding into the booth. I let Dorian sit down first,
preferring to sit on the other side of him and as far away from Odette as possible. Dorian said
something to Odette in French, but it was too loud and overwhelming for me to hear what he said. She
laughed, though. I tried to hide my discomfort while they talked.
“I will get us drinks, cheri. Anything for the human?” Odette stood again, her eyes burning into
me.
“Gin and tonic,” I said.
Dorian waved Odette away, watching her go before looking at me. “She dies tonight.”
“Easy.”
I watched Dorian’s eyes trail over the blood staining my face and chest and I sucked in a nervous
breath. “What role am I playing?”
“Mine.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. “I need you to make her so unbelievably jealous that she
makes a move to hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t touch her otherwise.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s an elite member of my Coven. It’s against the rules,” he hummed, and I jumped to
feel his lips against my ear.
“You’re the Master. Fuck the rules.”
He pulled back, lips playing in a smile. “Now, Miss Ashburn, can you do it or not?”
I moved forward, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. Adrenaline coursed through me and when
I spoke, my lips were barely a hairsbreadth from his. I didn’t know whether I was terrified or
exhilarated. “Careful, inviting the enemy into your bed, Mr. Sterling. I come with fangs of my own.”
Beneath the table, I flipped my blade, pressing it to his stomach threateningly.
Dorian leaned closer, daring me to pierce his skin. I held fast, pulling my mouth back so he
couldn’t touch me but keeping my blade in place. “I’m not afraid of you, Miss Ashburn. Answer the
question.”
“Tell me why you want her dead.” I sheathed the knife back against my thigh.
“Does it matter?”
“Tonight, it does.”
“She’s embezzling money from my Coven.” Dorian glanced up, offering a lazy smile. I looked up
to see that Odette had returned. My stomach churned. “Welcome back, ma cherie.” Dorian cooed, his
voice as smooth as the night.
A waitress had followed Odette over and placed a round of drinks on the table, along with three
shots. Two of them were stained red. I reached for mine, and grabbed Dorian’s while I was at it. He
watched me curiously as I set mine on the table, raising his glass for him. His lips parted, and I
basked in the glory of having him at my fingertips. I wrapped one hand around his neck, using the
other to set the glass against his lips. Dorian took the shot easily, and I turned to take mine, noting the
murderous look of his companion.
Odette and Dorian continued to converse in French. Odette must have assumed I didn’t speak the
language, but I understood her perfectly when she and Dorian laughed over the last time they’d been
lovers. I had to make her jealous.
I hummed softly, chewing on my bottom lip and looking over Dorian, bathed in flickering red
light. My eyes trailed over his bare chest and then flicked to the blood on the table as I devised my
plan. I moved to rest my chin on Dorian’s shoulder, watching his face as I traced my fingers up and
down his cool chest. He gritted his teeth for a moment, but still didn’t look at me. Instead, he laughed
at something Odette said. I looked over at Odette, smirking lightly before leaning forward and
dragging my lips along Dorian’s jaw.
I’d never been so close to death before, invincible and immune to its touch. This was exhilarating,
the most exciting game we’d played yet.
Odette looked murderous.
My whole body trembled with anticipation as I trailed slow kisses down his neck, licking and
kissing and watching the French vampire bristle. Dorian’s grip tightened around me. Shock flooded
through me when he groaned softly, swallowing. My heart galloped in my chest, and I sat back for a
moment, lazily leaning into Dorian as if I’d laid on him a thousand times before. I looked up at Odette
again, practically daring her to do something about it. Still, she sat still, sipping her cocktail.
I had to play harder. Dorian was still engaging in conversation with Odette and I needed all of his
attention on me. For the first time, I wondered what it would be like to be the center of his attention
and not fear for my life. I was about to find out.
I reached over to the glass of straight blood in front of Dorian, dipping two fingers into it. Still, he
didn’t look at me, listening to whatever story Odette was telling through her rage. I reached up
slowly, dragging my fingers over Dorian’s lips, staining him with blood. It worked. I took his
attention from her. His eyes fluttered closed and he stuck his tongue out slowly. My eyes widened as I
traced my finger over his tongue. He looked at me then, his eyes wide with something more than
shock.
Oh.
My eyes dropped to the blood on Dorian’s mouth. I thought of every time he’d been a hairsbreadth
away from me, his lips close enough to touch mine. His mouth was barely open now, his fangs
concealed by the pink of his lips. I’d never considered that perhaps the Coven Master’s mouth looked
kissable… but it was all I could think about now.
So, I did it again.
I dipped one finger into the blood and let it drop onto Dorian’s bottom lip, watching it run down
his skin before he licked it off. Glancing at Odette, I leaned forward further, letting my lips brush
Dorian’s and staining myself with blood.
He inhaled with a hiss.
I leaned back, letting him continue his conversation with Odette. I refused to lick the blood off my
lips, instead leaving it there for him to glance at every few moments. Enthralled, I dragged my hand
down his chest, feeling his cool skin. I undid another button on his shirt and watched Odette bristle.
She practically growled when I let blood drip down Dorian’s chest, staining his pale skin dark red.
I let my lips brush his jaw again, my heart racing as I wondered what it would be like to be kissed
by him. Dorian was powerful, untouchable, sexy. Right now, he was mine.
“Excuse us a moment, Odette,” he said suddenly, gripping my hips.
I yelped when he stood from the table, dragging me behind him. Deliberately, I glanced back,
sticking my tongue out at Odette. Dorian pulled me into another booth, yanking the curtains closed. He
stepped forward, pinning me against the table with his hips and my eyes widened.
“Careful, little Runner girl,” he growled, gripping my bloody hand at eye level.
“I’m only doing my job,” I whispered.
That was a lie. The Coven Master was as turned on as I was, I could feel him hard and pressing
against me. It was exhilarating to watch him squirm beneath my touch. I’d taken a risk wondering how
blood would affect him; apparently it sent him into a frenzy.
I pulled my hand from his, reaching up to offer him whatever was left on my fingers. He hissed
softly before leaning forward, his mouth closing over my fingers. His tongue was warmer than I
expected it to be, tracing over my skin, licking me clean.
Then he kissed me.
I gasped into his mouth as the unexpected transformed into the utterly desired. Dorian lifted me to
sit on the edge of the table, stepping between my legs and clinging to me like I’d disappear. I trembled
as his tongue moved over mine and I clung to his shirt, moaning into the kiss. His hands were
everywhere - in my hair, on my jaw, on my hips pulling me impossibly closer to him. I nipped at his
lips, my eyes fluttering when he held me harder.
Behind the curtain, there were dozens of people who could interrupt us, but I knew none of them
would. No one would dare question the Coven Master. He was untouchable and so was I. I slid my
hands beneath Dorian’s shirt, untucking it and tracing my tongue over his. Dorian pulled his mouth
from mine, his lips instead trailing over my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. I leaned back as he
dragged his tongue along my collarbone and then leaned up to kiss me again.
I saw Odette before he did.
The curtains moved and she stepped through them like an enraged apparition. I twisted away from
Dorian, pulling the stake from my thigh and burying it in her chest before she could make a scene.
Dorian caught her before she fell, letting her limp body slide into the booth. He glanced over at me
with wide eyes and swollen lips.
Then he was gone.
 Chapter 23

I was woken in the middle of the day after only sleeping a couple of hours. The sound of a clatter
and yowl of frustration roused me from a restless slumber and I was on my feet before I even
realized what was happening. Blade in hand, I darted out into the living room only to collide
with a bleary-eyed Shina on the way out there.
In the middle of the room, Abigail was curled into a fetal position, yowling like an injured rabbit.
Beck was leaning over her, frantically trying to pull something from her hands.
“What the fuck?” I demanded.
“She still has it,” Beck cried like an obnoxious child. “The vampire blood.”
I let out a long, exhausted breath and handed my blade to Shina. She took it, leaning against the
wall with an exasperated roll of her eyes. I walked across the room, using a two-finger command to
get Beck to back off. They did without question. I leaned down, grabbing Abigail by her hair and
pulling hard to get her to release her position. The small vial of blood clattered to the ground, and she
tried to lunge for it. I held fast on her hair. Beck leapt across the room and snatched it up off the
ground.
“Down the drain,” I commanded.
Abigail screamed. It was the scream of a broken, lost little girl. I paused, motioning for Beck to
wait. They did. I let my sister go, crossing my arms and waiting for her to calm down. She was
sobbing but made no move to lunge towards Beck who was holding the vial over the sink.
“Why are you here, Abigail?”
She looked up at me. “I told you.”
I raised my hand ever so slightly. Beck tilted the vial and let a single drop of blood spill into the
sink. Abigail screamed, begging them to stop.
“Why are you here, Abigail?” I repeated myself, enunciating every word.
“I’m meeting someone,” she growled. Her features were hardening now, her jaw set as she glared
at Beck.
“Who?”
She crossed her arms.
Another drop of blood down the sink.
“Someone who says they can make me a vampire.”
The room went silent.
 Blood roared in my ears and the whole room went red with my rage. I thought I heard Beck tell
me to breathe and when I looked at Abigail, she looked terrified. I stormed across the room, snatching
the vial of blood from Beck and smashing it on the counter. Blood splattered across the counter and
floor and glass cut into the palm of my hand. Abigail screamed again, launching herself across the
room. No one stopped her.
I was ready for her attack, of course. The glass dug deeper into my palm as I smeared the blood in
a dozen directions before raising my arms to counter her attack. Abigail may have trained as a
Runner, but she was sloppy and irrational. With one single movement, I had her pinned against the
refrigerator.
“Why’d you come to me?”
“I didn’t have anywhere else to stay while I waited to meet them.” She inclined her chin defiantly.
“What’s the name?”
“You’ll never find him,” she snapped.
I smirked. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Abigail. Shina is going to book you a flight.
You’re going home and I’m going to kill your little friend.”
She spat in my face.
I shoved her away and watched her run out the front door.
Immediately, guilt surged through me and I sighed. I’d have to go find her. My shoulders slumped
and I looked around at the too-full apartment. Shina and Jonah still stood in the hallway, stoic as ever.
Beck looked concerned and disheveled. The Runner potentials cowered in the corner, too afraid to
get involved.
I held up my hand. “Who wants to help me get glass out of my skin?”

“I DON ’ T EVEN KNOW where to start looking for a girl lost in Brooklyn,” I huffed as I led the run later
that night. Beck, Shina, and Gwen accompanied me while we jogged through busier-than-usual
Brooklyn streets. We’d left Jonah and the other Runner potentials at home in case Abigail decided to
show up again. My hand still burned from Beck digging around in my skin to pull out every shard of
glass and the bandage around it made it difficult to hold onto my blades correctly.
None of us had gotten any sleep. Beck had bags under their eyes and Shina jogged a little slower
than she normally did. I was unbelievably agitated. My sister wanted to become a vampire.
“Can we break for water?” Beck asked.
I nodded, slowing my pace.
I heard the roar of a crowd as soon as they did. Beck fell into step beside me as we turned the
corner to a busy street. This part of town was full of dive bars and hole-in-the-wall diners, so it was
normally busy - but this was a crowd. I flicked my wrist for my Runners to fan out as we slid into the
crowd, curious to discover what was going on.
Finding Abigail was apparently too easy. She was the one speaking. She stood on a table, waving
her hands energetically. She was giving an anti-Runner speech. I bristled in fury, pushing my way to
the front and crossing my arms. My sister met my gaze and her smile was almost devious.
“There’s a growing concern in politics and media that we don’t need Runners, that they promote
violence when we could survive hand-in-hand,” Abigail stared at me when she spoke.
The crowd roared.
 The anti-Runner movement was founded on growing groups of people that called the Runner
Institution archaic and gruesome. They wanted political alliances with the vampires that made prey
out of them and apparently, some of them wanted to be vampires. They believed in a fairytale. This
was reality. Runners kept civilians safe because they were the only ones brave enough to do anything
about it. Without us, they would all be dead.
“No more Runners!” Someone yelled.
Abigail had the audacity to smirk.
“Red, we should go.” Shina appeared from the crowd, gripping my arm.
I looked around at the growing crowd of people staring and pointing at my Runners. There were
several dozen eyes on me, whispers that Phoenix Ashburn was here to ruin the party. My eyes found
Beck and Gwen across the street and I nodded to them. A couple teenagers took pictures, chuckling to
themselves about how they couldn’t wait to post them on social media. I turned my attention back to
Abigail, who had begun to speak again.
“Call your city and state representatives! Demand the dismantling of the Runner Institution!” She
waved one hand in the air, attracting the attention of others. “Our cities are safe enough. Don’t we
deserve to walk around without there being blood on the street?” She pointed to a vampire a few feet
behind her; I recognized him from the pictures of her in Denver. I wondered if he was the one who
promised to make her a vampire. “Do they not deserve to live their lives uninterrupted?”
Cheers.
My hand tightened on my blade, but Shina was pulling on my arm frantically now. “We need to
go.”
I nodded, backing into her as Abigail continued to yell and other voices joined her. She said
something about how it wasn’t much different than killing humans. People were flooding out of bars
and restaurants to join in the ruckus, so many of them held up their phones to record the situation. I
blinked when several phones were shoved in my face, strangers accusing me of murder, the world
beginning to rock like a wave. All at once, things got out of control.
Someone pushed me, hard.
I stumbled backwards, reaching for Shina, but she was gone. I spun in a circle, being pushed
every which way as I searched for my Runner. I held my hand in front of my face, pushing back
cameras and bright lights. A man told me I deserved to be in prison and someone else said Runners
deserved to suffer what they did to vampires. Nails raked along my arm, drawing blood. I called
Shina’s name, trying desperately to push towards the next street. I wanted to get out of here, but I
couldn’t leave my team.
The crowd chanted. Runners are murderers. Let vampires live. Runners are murderers. Let
vampires live.
Sirens.
Red and blue lights. The crowd grew louder and louder. Glass shattered.
I fell hard.
In the chaos, I was sure most of these people didn’t even know who I was. A sharp shoe kicked
me in the face and I yelped in pain, struggling to get back to my feet. My head spun and I was seeing
stars, reaching up to stop the bleeding on my nose. Again, I called for Shina, though my voice was
drowned in the uproar. Somewhere in the distance, I heard my name called or maybe cursed.
A hand closed around my arm. I didn’t see who touched me as I was pulled to my feet. There was
a searing pain in my cheek;I struggled against whoever was holding me. They were impossibly strong.
Dorian Sterling.
 I caught sight of his face as he pulled me through the crowd. I didn’t know where he’d come from
or what he wanted, but I let him hold onto me. I wanted to get out of here. I was shoved around a few
more times, unable to properly keep my balance when I couldn’t tell which way was up or down.
Then... fresh air.
The roar of the crowd, which had doubled in size, was deafening but I was able to suck in a deep
breath. Dorian pulled me further into the dark and I realized we were in an alley behind one of the
bars. It smelled like sewage and smoke back here but at least I could gain my bearings. He let me go
and I leaned up against the wall, tears in my eyes. Slowly, I reached up, touching my cheek and nose
where the person kicked me.
“That’s going to bruise,” Dorian said.
I looked up at him, somehow unruffled after the chaos. He wore a white shirt beneath his coat
tonight, a drastic difference from the all black I was used to seeing him in.
“What are you doing here?”
“Saving you, it seems,” he hummed, stepping closer. I nearly pulled away when he grabbed my
chin, though I realized he was only looking at my wound. I flinched instinctively when he ran his
finger over my nose, the skin broken and bloody. I was seeing black dots and the world was spinning.
I was grateful he was holding me up, otherwise my knees might have gone out from under me. Dorian
traced over my face for another moment before his eyes dropped to the blood on his fingers. “I don’t
think your nose is broken,” he murmured, his eyes on the blood.
“Why are you here?” I said again, trembling. A tear ran down my cheek, burning as it scorched
through the wound.
Dorian still didn’t look up at me. He traced his tongue over his fangs, and I went still. I’d studied
vampires enough to know that every thought in his mind was focused on my blood. His eyes dilated
larger, then smaller, a low growl building in his throat.
My eyes dropped to his mouth. I couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like to kiss him in the
heat of the nightclub. I’d forced the memory out of my mind in favor of more important things, like my
sister’s betrayal, but now I was face to face with him again and it was all I could think about.
“You said, once,” I whispered, curious. I’d never seen a vampire react to blood this closely
before. Dorian was the most exquisite vampire I’d ever seen, ancient and powerful. Still, a couple
drops of human blood was enough to make him lose his composure. It was fascinating. I swallowed.
“You said Runner blood is better than all the rest.”
He hummed, his tongue running back and forth over his fangs. I wondered, briefly, how they
weren’t slicing through his skin. My eyes dropped to his mouth, somehow always swollen and
slightly pink, like it was stained from eight hundred years of blood.
“What’s it taste like?” I breathed.
The crowd was still roaring. I heard sirens echoing too. Somewhere out there, my Runners and my
sister were lost in the mess. I didn’t care about them. Right now, the most dangerous vampire in the
world was utterly entranced by me. I had every ounce of his attention. I wanted to feel this powerful
every moment of every day.
Dorian spoke slowly, his green eyes unwavering. “Runners naturally run off of more adrenaline
than the average human. Their blood has more oxygen in it, it’s- it’s hard to explain.”
I reached up, grabbing his wrist in one hand. He hissed in response, looking up as I held onto him.
“Tell me what you want from me. Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
Dorian stepped impossibly closer. “Would you like me to kill you, Miss Ashburn?”
“I want you to answer me.” I held onto his wrist harder, keeping his blood-stained fingers at the
level of his eyes.
Dorian smirked, pulling from me. I watched him run his tongue along his fingers, his eyes
practically rolling into his head as he tasted my blood. I should have been more scared than I was.
Instead, a shiver of delight ran through me and my eyes widened. Dorian glanced up at me as he
licked the last of his blood from his finger.
“I was going to kill you tonight, but I think I’ll keep you human a while longer. You taste
exquisite.”
 Chapter 24

S hina found me alone in the alleyway an hour later.

The crowd dissipated over time, and it sounded like everyone went home safely. Dorian
disappeared after tasting my blood and I could do nothing but sink to the ground and shake for a
long while- thinking of the way his eyes rolled back at the taste of me. I hated myself for wanting him
to do it again. Shina inspected the wound on my face with much more vigor than the Coven Master
had, poking and prodding until I flinched back with a yowl.
She helped me from the ground and I realized my ears were ringing loudly, and I could barely
hear her as she talked. She said something about a car waiting for us, but I wasn’t paying attention. I
was simmering in fury and confusion. My very own sister had started the disturbance, calling Runners
murderers and saying we deserved to be in prison. The street was quiet now, a couple restaurants had
tarps covering broken windows. Most of the lights had gone out.
I slid into the front seat of the car Shina saved for us, snarling when I saw Abigail waiting in the
backseat next to Gwen. Beck sat up front. Abigail glared back at me, looking every bit like the
Ashburn she was - finally. I thought of every time in my childhood I’d seen that same furious look on
our mom’s face. The same fire burned on my face always, the flames never stopped growing.
“You want to know why I became a Runner?” She growled as I buckled my seatbelt.
“Not now,” I huffed.
“So I can stand up for what I believe in - Runners are the same monsters they claim to protect us
from.”
I rubbed the good side of my face. “You could have done that without wasting seven years.”
“No, it’s important to take the institution down from the outside,” Abigail spat back.
I scoffed. “What do you think this is, Abigail? A dystopian novel? Grow up.”
The car moved forward, the driver sitting awkwardly next to me. I felt nauseous at the movement,
leaning back in my seat and rubbing my stomach. Shina placed her hand on my shoulder reassuringly.
When I glanced at her, I noticed she was pressed up against the door, as if trying to put as much
distance between herself and Abigail, disgust clear on her face. Shina was the kindest, most
respectful Runner on my team. She made her kills quickly and humanely, but she still understood that
the only enemies here were vampires. Abigail did not.
The rest of the drive to the apartment was silent.
When we walked up the steps to the front door, I kept my eyes forward as I unlocked it.
Immediately, we stepped inside, and the other Runners were gushing with worry and fright.
“What the hell happened?” Jonah leapt from the couch. “We saw the news.”
“Abigail Ashburn for president,” Shina said. I noticed she was limping.
Jonah’s concern faded to suspicion as he looked at my sister. The other Runner potentials stared at
us in horror, whispering to themselves when Gwen darted to join them. I fought the urge to punch
Abigail in the face to give her a bruise to match the one on my face.
I turned to Shina. “Please arrange for a plane to send Abigail back to Denver as soon as
possible.”
I motioned to Beck to follow me. We had to discuss which Runner would be joining our team and
I wanted to get it done before I collapsed in exhaustion. We walked into my room, and I shut and
locked the door behind us.
“Tell me what you think,” I said finally, laying back on my duvet.
As soon as Beck spoke, I knew the answer was Gwen. She talked a lot, and was pretty young, but
she was willing to learn. It seemed like she wanted to be here, to grow with me and my team. Beck
thought Gwen handled herself extremely well in the crowd this evening and I agreed that was a
valuable asset. There wasn’t much of a discussion, we both knew what we had to do.
I stood from the bed, leaving them to trail behind me as I stalked into the living room. The panther
girl startled herself awake from snoring on the couch. Terry and Abigail cowered in the corner, both
of them shoving things into their bag. Gwen sat with Shina at the bar. Shina was telling her about the
traditional tattoos on her face. She’d gotten them a year or so ago after feeling too ashamed of her
culture her whole life. It was a big step, she was proud.
I approached Gwen, who looked utterly exhausted. Her light ginger hair was in a messy bun and
there were bags under her eyes. She looked up from asking Shina about her seal-skin wrist cuffs,
pausing when she realized it was me approaching her.
I held out my hand.
This was my favorite part.
Pure joy crossed the girl’s face. Next to her, Shina smiled. The room burst into applause. Gwen
turned bright red with embarrassment, trembling with excitement. I couldn’t help but smile back at
her. Gwen reached forward and shook my hand, holding back tears.
“Welcome to the team,” I said quietly. Silently, I prayed she would survive.
She gushed out her appreciation and I allowed her a short hug. Over her shoulder, I looked at
Abigail, still simmering in her rage. Slowly, I smirked. Good, I wanted her to burn. I talked through
the specifics with Gwen. She’d need to sign a contract before she boarded her flight tomorrow night.
I’d call the Brooklyn Institute in a couple of hours and have them put it together and bring it over.
Gwen would return to her Institute for a few days to pack up and make moving arrangements. Then
she’d come back here and we’d get started.
“I’m starting to feel a little outnumbered - all these women,” Jonah joked as he congratulated
Gwen.
“Hey!” Beck yelled, waving their hands in the air across the room. “Not a woman.”
“Sorry, Beck!” Jonah snorted, grinning at them.
Beck laughed.
I watched them celebrate. Beck hugged Gwen like they’d been best friends for years. Shina
looked teary and Jonah patted her shoulder like a protective older brother.
I didn’t see any of the other Runners to the airport, nor did I make any effort to take Abigail to the
hotel where Shina arranged for her stay until we could get her a flight. Instead, I spent most of the
early hours of the morning on the phone with the Brooklyn Institute, arranging with pieces of the
contract I’d need sent over. I made arrangements with my Runners about where Gwen would sleep.
We decided Beck would switch rooms to share with Jonah, and Gwen would stay with Shina.
I busied myself until the contract arrived, then spent nearly an hour walking Gwen through it. This
part was important. She had to understand what she was getting herself into. I walked her through the
confidentiality notice and what was expected of her. None of it fazed her. She nodded, asked
questions when she had them and signed without hesitation.
I was proud of her.
I’d made the right decision.
Shina and Jonah offered to take her to the airport. As soon as they were gone, the apartment was
shockingly quiet. Beck and I cleaned up the living room, pushing furniture back into place. Beck
reheated some miso soup, forcing me to sit down and eat.
“I need to ask you something,” they said, sitting down next to me.
I hummed, barely able to hold my head up as I shoveled soup into my mouth.
“Did the Coven kill Finley?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation, sitting up with a deep breath. “I know you think I’m the bad
guy right now, Beck, but please trust me when I say I’m trying to keep you all alive.”
Beck swallowed thickly. I expected them to say more, but they nodded and disappeared down the
hall with their bowl of soup.
I rested my head on the counter in defeat.
 Chapter 25

I checked my reflection in the mirror one more time before stepping out of the car in front of
Dorian Sterling’s Long Island mansion. It loomed enormously into the night sky, magnificent and
glowing. Most of the lights seemed to be on inside, and I looked over the cobblestone driveway
and hedges lining the walls. It looked like it was straight out of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel, not
anything like I’d expect from a vampire king.
I was exhausted, so in addition to the bruise and scrape marks on my nose and cheek, there were
dark bags under my eyes. I only slept for a couple of hours before I’d woken up to the text notification
that there was a car picking me up. I left my hair down again, mostly unbrushed, and dressed as
quickly as I could.
The driver was a vampire.
I knew, because even though he didn’t open his mouth to show his fangs, he glanced at me
nervously every few seconds. He leaned against the driver’s door like he was prepared to leap from
the moving car at any second. I let the blade strapped to my arm stick out from the sleeve of my jean
jacket, enjoying watching him squirm. He didn’t make any move to open the car door for me, so I got
out myself, whistling at the enormity of the house. I hadn’t paid much attention to it the last time I was
here. The place looked like a castle. A large balcony protruded directly above the front doors, the
light in the windows flickered like fire.
I remembered what Dorian said to me the night before and my stomach flipped.
I was going to kill you tonight, but I think I’ll keep you human a while longer. You taste
exquisite.
Why was I here?
The front door swung open, and Stella Khatri stepped out onto the porch. She wore a bright red
gown with a slit as high as her thigh and her hair was braided - she looked excessively elegant, as
always.
She snorted when she saw me. “You look like shit.”
I curtseyed in response, earning an amused smile from the Coven Successor. I walked up the steps
to the front door, nodding in thanks as she motioned me inside. Dorian was waiting in the foyer,
leaning against the grand stairway. He wore all black again, a pearl necklace around his neck. His
hair was slicked back, and I could have sworn he was wearing eyeliner tonight. It was unbelievably
attractive.
 I was going to kill you tonight.
I gulped. I should be afraid of him. Why wasn’t I scared anymore?
“Thank you for coming.” Dorian stood straight.
“I didn’t really have a choice.”
He smirked, motioning down the hall to where I knew his office was. “I want to talk.”
I followed him quietly. Stella lingered in the foyer, watching me curiously. I glanced back at her
before I stepped into the office; she bared her fangs before disappearing - moving faster than the
human eye could see. Dorian closed the office door behind us. I immediately walked over to the red
velvet couch by the window and lay back. He watched me in amusement, fiddling with a ring on his
middle finger.
“How’s the face?” He said, walking over to his desk and shuffling through papers, like he was
looking for something.
“It hurts.”
He walked over and handed me a manila folder. I flipped it open, tensing. It was a file on Abigail
Ashburn. Except, it wasn’t her Runner file, which I’d practically memorized. It was everything else. It
was her online presence in several anti-Runner blogs, including one she ran herself. It was every
petition she ever signed or led. Pictures of her at protests, screaming that Runners were monsters.
Each page I flipped past sent my stomach higher into my throat. I closed it quickly, looking up at
Dorian.
“What is this?”
He handed me one more.
I set Abigail’s file next to me and opened this one. This one was full of the actual blog posts
Abigail wrote. Some of them were marked as deleted in red marker, most of them had highlights in
them. Half of them were about me. I swallowed, scanning through some of the titles.
Why Runners Like Phoenix Ashburn Are A Problem
When Will Someone Put Phoenix Ashburn in Her Place?
Phoenix Ashburn: Murderer
I felt sick. My sister was leading a revolution against Runners, I knew, but this was a direct attack
against me. Her words were hateful, disgusting. They were published anonymously, but the writing
style was all the same. It was all her. I thought of Dorian accusing me of being a killer. Now my sister
was doing the same. Was that really how the world saw me? I snapped the file closed, looking up at
Dorian. He handed me one more thing, a folded photograph, straightening. I trembled as I took it from
him, reminding myself that I couldn’t cry here.
Flicking it open, my breath caught.
It was a photo of Abigail. She sat in a bikini at the edge of a hot tub, sticking her tongue out for the
camera. There was a bottle of tequila in her hand, even though she was underage. That wasn’t what
caught my attention, though. It was the man’s lap she sat on. It was the same vampire I’d seen with her
twice now, only now she was sprawled all over him and he was looking at her like she was the only
woman in the world. He was smiling, fangs on full display. I shivered when I saw the scars on
Abigail’s arms and chest, low enough to be hidden with regular clothing- bite marks.
I handed the photo back to Dorian. “So?”
Dorian smirked. “You don’t care?”
“Of course I care, but I know there’s a catch for why you’re giving me these.” I ground my teeth
together to keep myself from exploding. I’d never realized my sister hated me.
Dorian hummed, backing away. He tossed the photo to the ground in front of me. “I thought you’d
care. It seems they’re in a very committed relationship.”
“What’s your point?” I snapped.
“I can have him killed.”
I bristled. Dorian sat down at his desk, waiting. I stared at him, watching him lean back and cross
his legs, tapping his fingers on the desk.
“What do you want for it?” I said finally.
The tapping stopped. “You.”
I froze. “What?”
“I want you.” Dorian tilted his head to the side.
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. I already work for you.”
Dorian stood again, and then he was in front of me, tilting my chin up so I’d look directly at him.
“I don’t want your work. I want your blood, Miss Ashburn.”
I should have seen something like this coming. Blood was more valuable than gold to vampires,
Dorian was asking a lot for this job. The instant he said it, I should have been out the door, telling him
it wasn’t up for debate. I shouldn’t want to kill my sister’s boyfriend. I wasn’t willing to give up my
blood for it. Except… maybe I was. My heart pounded in my chest, and I knew he could hear it as he
watched me contemplate his offer.
My sister was in a relationship with a vampire. My sister hated me and everything I stood for. I
wondered if she’d started all of this revolutionary bullshit because of him. It didn’t matter. What
mattered was shutting her up. Without Runners, the world would descend into chaos. There was
nothing to stop the vampires from turning humans into mindless buffets of sex and blood. Abigail
would never understand, but the world would be a better place without her vampire lover.
I lounged back on the couch. “How much blood?”
Dorian lifted an empty wine glass on his desk, setting it back down closer to me with a clink.
He’d anticipated me saying yes. “One glass.”
“One time,” I clarified.
Dorian nodded once.
“I want him dead first.”
“That’s not how this works.”
I stood from the couch, walking forward. I grabbed the glass, breaking it on the edge of the desk
and holding the broken stem like a blade against his neck. “Yes. You know why? I can’t force you to
kill him, but you can force blood from me. Kill him, and I’ll give it to you willingly.”
Dorian inclined his chin, reaching forward to take the glass stem from my hand. “Fine.” He set it
on the desk next to him. “Consider it done.”
 Chapter 26

T he night club was too hot tonight. Too many bodies gyrating together. Too much alcohol
spilled down shirts and on shoes. The whole place reeked of blood and sweat.
I don’t remember sitting down on the table in the corner or where the taste of alcohol on
my lips had come from. Sweaty and panting, I pulled at the buttons of the front of my shirt,
desperate for a breath of fresh air.
Someone was kissing my neck.
I leaned into their touch, moaning deeply at the feeling of their cool tongue over my hot skin.
The flickering lights kept my eyes from focusing on anything, but I moved lazily against my lover.
Their mouth moved up my neck, their tongue dancing down my jaw and then nibbling at my chin. I
whined deeply, catching their mouth with my own and gripping them desperately. I needed more,
faster, harder.
I slipped my tongue into their mouth, gasping when a sharp pain shot through my mouth. I
pulled back, dabbing my fingers on the tip of my tongue. They came away bloody.
Confused, I looked to my lover’s mouth; their lips were slightly parted to reveal razor sharp
fangs. My heart galloped in my chest as I tasted my own blood.
I looked into the endless green eyes of Dorian Sterling.
He leaned forward again, tentatively pressing his lips to mine. I sighed into the kiss this time,
shivers running down my spine as I leaned up to place my hand on the side of his face. He groaned
deeply at the taste of my blood, his kiss deepening.
God, I needed him to touch me more.
I moved up quickly, straddling his lap and slipping between his body and the table. He was
aroused and hard beneath my hips, a soft growl rumbling in his chest as I rocked my core against
his. Dorian’s tongue ran over mine repeatedly, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me
against him over and over again. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I latched onto his bottom lip,
pulling hard. I basked in the glory of his gasp, barely audible over the pulsing music. He leapt
forward like a predator, running his tongue over my collarbone, burying his face between the
valley of my breasts.
“Why am I here?” I whispered.
“Because I want you,” Dorian growled, lifting me up to sit on the table in front of him. He
looked up, eyes burning through the dark. “Do you want me?”
 “Yes.”
I watched him unbutton my pants, pulling them off with a speed and precision I never
imagined. Dorian growled, reaching up to nudge me back. I lay against the cool of the table,
staring up at the smoke and lights. Dorian lifted my hips gently, sliding off my underwear. I tried
to sit up and look at him again, but he wouldn’t allow it, hissing softly as a threat.
I smiled lazily at the strange noise. “Touch me, kitty.”
“All in good time, Miss Ashburn.” His cold hands ran up the insides of my thighs, gripping my
hips tightly.
I closed my eyes, succumbing to my surroundings.
Dancing, gyrating, fucking bodies.
Blood and alcohol on the floor.
Dorian’s mouth on the wettest part between my thighs.
He lapped at my center like a starving man, holding onto my hips to keep me still on the edge
of the table. My hand flew up to cover my mouth and keep cries of ecstasy from echoing louder
than the music. Dorian’s tongue traced over my entrance, then up to the most sensitive bundle of
nerves. He sucked deeply and I yelled in shock, feeling him chuckle against me.
Dorian continued licking and sucking as heat built in my stomach. Desperately, I rocked
against his mouth, panting, and crying out. Twice, I felt his fangs brush my skin, the small flashes
of pain enhancing the pleasure rolling through me. The knot in my stomach bundled more and
more; I arched my back off the table.
The whole night club heard me scream as I came.
Dorian pulled me into a sitting position, kissing over my stomach and chest as I quivered in the
aftermath of my orgasm. I fell forward into him, hungrily pulling his mouth to mine. He pulled me
forward off of the table and I realized he’d already undone his pants, pushing them down to expose
himself.
“I want you to scream again,” he whispered against my mouth, reaching between us to position
himself at my entrance.
I snarled as I sank down onto his length. Dorian caught my mouth with his, meeting each rock
of my hips with a rough thrust. He felt exquisite inside of me, warm despite the cool temperature of
his skin. I ground against him harder, longing to feel him more all at once. Dorian ran his mouth
down to my neck again, I felt his fangs sink into my skin. I cried out, trembling at the strange
sensation, losing my rhythm. He took control, holding me still and roughly thrusting up into me
over and over again.
I was frozen in time, unable to move, unable to think. I succumbed to the sensation of him
inside me, fucking me and consuming me all at once. My hand shook as I slipped it between my
legs, creating the heat I so desperately craved. Dorian groaned, biting down on my throat harder
and eliciting another cry from me. Blood ran down my chest, warm and sticky. I reached over,
grabbing Dorian’s hair in my fist and pulling him from me. He sat back with a growl, and I leaned
forward to kiss him deeply, feeling the knot beginning to build in my stomach.
Dorian kissed me fiercely once, reaching up to hold me by the throat. He pushed me back
roughly, so I sat straight, prey to his merciless thrusts.
“Mine,” he hissed, squeezing his hand tighter.
“Yours.”
I came again, my scream strangled by his grip on my neck.
I WOKE WITH A GASP , coughing weakly. My hands flew to my throat at the memory of hands around my
neck. I coughed again, looking around my dark room as I panted. My floor fan ruffled my blinds, and I
could hear the TV in the living room playing loudly.
I was alone.
I lay back against my pillows, still breathing hard and in shock over my dream. Already, the
details were fading, but the idea remained. I’d dreamed about hot sex with the Coven Master, the man
I was planning to kill, who was making my life hell.
I shook my head, slipping out of bed and padding to my bathroom. Hands shaking, I started a hot
shower, stripping from my pajamas as I tried to forget how it felt to have Dorian Sterling inside me. I
huffed out a long breath.
It was a dream. Just a dream.
I took an extremely long shower, scrubbing my skin until it burned bright red - trying to erase
whatever I thought I felt. When I was done, I walked back into my room, wrapped in a towel. I tossed
new clothes on my bed, sitting in front of my vanity to braid my hair. My phone buzzed on the
nightstand, and I stood to go check it, still half lost in the memory of my dream.
Dorian’s name was on the screen.
I sucked in a breath. There were two texts.
He’s dead.
I assumed he was talking about Abigail’s vampire boyfriend.
See you tonight, Miss Ashburn.
 Chapter 27

M y Runners attacked like hyenas the instant I walked out of my room. I was still dreary-eyed
and reeling when I entered the living room, only to have all three of them surrounding me.
Immediately, I felt like a caged animal, anger and panic rising within me.
“We need to talk,” Beck said fiercely, coming up behind me and blocking my retreat down the
hall.
I turned to look at them. “Sure, what about?”
I tried to inch my way towards the kitchen - I was starving. Jonah blocked the way, standing tall
and crossing his arms. I eyed him suspiciously before turning to Shina, who inclined her chin in
defiance. I clenched my fists, reminding myself to breathe. I didn’t want to start a fight with them
tonight.
“What’s going on with the Coven?” Beck snarled.
I sighed. I knew I’d regret what I told them about Finley, but I’d tried to be honest. Hadn’t I
deliberately said I was trying to protect them? Now they were cornering me in my own living room,
three against one because they knew they’d never win otherwise.
I straightened, crossing my arms. “I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” Jonah rumbled.
“Can’t,” I snapped.
“Bullshit,” Beck piped up.
I spun towards them, full of fire and rage. “I’m trying to keep you alive!”
“It was your mistake that got us here in the first place,” Beck retorted.
“Killing Rhys Montagne was not a mistake. It got rid of one more too-powerful vampire. Now, if
you’d prefer, I can go talk to the Master and tell him it’s fine to slaughter my whole team?” I stepped
up to Beck furiously. I was six inches taller than them, but they didn’t back down, continuing to stare
up at me with eyes full of anger and betrayal. “Or, you can shut your mouth and let me keep you
alive.”
Beck’s lip lifted in disgust. They stayed where they stood inches from me, practically daring me
to back down first. I wouldn’t. Behind me, Shina and Jonah breathed heavily. I took a deep breath,
worried that if either of them challenged me even a moment more, I’d choke them. I was barely
containing my frustration as it was, my hands shaking at my sides. One more thing and I’d snap.
“Is it really that bad?” Shina whispered.
 I did not look at her, snarling with my eyes on Beck. “Yes. Now, do you trust me?”
Shina nodded once. Jonah too. I waited for Beck’s submission.
They swallowed, sucking in a deep breath. An eternal silence stretched through the space. I barely
controlled my own breathing, resisting the urge to shake them and demand they answer me.
“I’m going to take a leave of absence.”
The words hit me like a splash of cold water. I stiffened, stepping away from them and clearing
my throat. Behind me, Jonah and Shina gasped.
“How long?” I said evenly.
“I don’t know. I think I’m going to go visit my dad for a while.”
Somehow, that hurt even worse. Beck’s father was in an asylum. He lost his mind after his wife
became a vampire and killed Beck’s sister. He had no idea what his child even looked like anymore,
let alone that Beck was one of the best Runners in the world. The realization that Beck would rather
spend time with a man who didn’t recognize them instead of their own team was a knife to the gut.
“Fine,” I said coolly. “Shina will act as second-in-command in your absence. Will you be running
with us tonight?”
“No, I’m going to pack.” Beck turned around and stormed down the hall.
“Maybe we should take a break tonight,” Shina sighed when Beck’s door slammed.
I spun on her. “Are you running tonight or not?”
“Not.” She looked sad.
“Jonah?”
“Shina’s right. We should cool off tonight.”
I grabbed my keys off the counter. “Fine, I’ll go myself.”
The apartment door slammed behind me. I didn’t bother locking it.

I RAN until my legs burned.

I ran until I found Dorian Sterling’s night club.
I wasn’t sure what subconscious thought brought me there or how I was going to get inside. Still, I
leaned breathlessly against the side of the building, wiping sweat from my brow. I watched the
doorman for a while, letting in person after person - some of them human, most of them vampire. A
few times, I thought of giving them my name and walking right in but didn’t want to create chaos. The
vampires wouldn’t like that I was here.
I saw my opportunity when a black car pulled up. Stella Khatri stepped out, looking as elegant
and perfect as ever. She wore a shimmery golden dress, her hair in a thousand dark curls. A woman
stepped out after her, with midnight skin and eyes like the moon. Stella leaned back to kiss her deeply.
When she stood straight, her eyes settled on me with something like amusement.
She beckoned me with one finger.
I approached her without hesitation.
“Dorian’s not here,” she said.
“Wasn’t looking for him.”
Stella laughed, the sound like music in the night. She patted the top of the car. “He’ll take you to
the Master if you’d like. If not, enjoy your night, Miss Ashburn.”
I waited for Stella to be inside before slipping into the backseat.
 “Where to, Miss?” The driver looked up with a kind smile.
“Take me to Dorian Sterling.”
He nodded and shifted the car into drive. When I looked out the window, Stella Khatri waited at
the doorway. She was on the phone, smiling wickedly. Her companion was nowhere to be seen. I
gulped, settling back into my seat. What the hell was I doing?
I was actively seeking out the man who was making my life hell. For what? For a little danger, a
bit of an adrenaline rush? Couldn’t I get that with any old vampire on the street? Brooklyn was
crawling with them. If I got bored in Brooklyn, I could go to Manhattan, or Long Island. When I was
bored there, I could go to Paris or Sydney - the whole world at my fingers. No Runner Institute would
turn me down, any team would be lucky to have me as their Lead Runner. Yet, I was looking for the
most danger I could possibly find.
Dorian Sterling was as bad as it got. Any vampire would drop to their knees for him. I’d been on
my knees in front of him, felt the fury of his blade. He made my blood boil and my heart race.
He respected me.
My Runners didn’t trust me; they believed I was deliberately trying to harm them - clearly, they
didn’t know me at all. My sister made a name for herself by disparaging my reputation. Regular
vampires weren’t enough for me anymore. Dorian respected me. He never turned his back when I was
in the room because he knew I was a threat. He was right. He thought I was valuable enough to use as
his own personal assassin.
I watched out the window until the car pulled up to the Coven mansion.
“Thank you,” I said to the driver, glancing over at him. He gave me a fanged smile, then his eyes
dropped to my weapon’s belt. I saw the apprehension in his eyes, wondering if he’d made a mistake
bringing me here. I stepped out of the car, sucking in a deep breath.
“Hey, wait.” The driver scrambled out after me. “I should check if you’re supposed to be here.”
I rolled my eyes, stepping back away from him. “Mr. Sterling will be expecting me, I’m sure.”
He glanced at my stake again, inching closer. I’m sure he thought he was being slick, but I was a
trained fighter. I took another step back. “We don’t get a lot of Runners around here, who are you
anyway?” His voice took on a flirtatious tone.
“Look.” My heels hit the back of the first stair. “I’d hate to piss off Mr. Sterling because I stained
his steps with your blood.”
The vampire smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be delighted by yours.”
Scoffing, I turned to walk inside.
He was faster, blocking my entrance. He took a few steps forward, baring his fangs. He was
entirely blocking my way up the stairs now. I’d never make it to the door without a fight. The grounds
were quiet, the only noise a few crickets echoed through the night. The lights from the house lit up
some of the dark, but the gardens were dark.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were a Runner. I would have pulled over sooner, told the boss
you never showed up,” the driver chuckled.
I laughed dryly. “I know your boss; he wouldn’t like that.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”
I ran.
My boots clicked on the cobblestone for a few moments, and I jumped a gate, disappearing into
the gardens. I ran faster, hearing the vampire right behind me. I tried lacing through the topiaries,
cutting my arm on rose bushes as I ran past them. I opened my mouth to call for Dorian and the
vampire tackled me. I landed hard in the gravel, coughing and rolling to block the driver’s fangs.
 I jerked my knee up between his legs. His yowl echoed through the night and he stood to stumble
off of me pathetically. I expected him to fall back, but he never did. Instead, he jerked unnaturally,
blood leaking from his mouth. I leapt to my feet in confusion, drawing my blade until I recognized the
dark figure behind my attacker.
“How rude,” Dorian chuckled, his hand wrist-deep in the driver’s back. “This isn’t how we treat
guests.” His eyes flicked to me, and he smirked as he pulled the driver’s heart from his chest. It fell to
the ground with a splat.
I cleared my throat to suppress a gag, wiping gravel off my clothes. Dorian stepped forward,
offering me a handkerchief. “Your arm is bleeding.”
I took it quickly, placing it over the thorn cuts on my bicep. “Thank you.”
Dorian motioned for me to follow him. I did, squinting through the dark. During the day, I was
sure the gardens were beautiful. I caught sight of a few sculptures, heard the trickle of water. The
hedges were all beautifully trimmed. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the neigh of a horse. Dorian
led me back to the house, opening the front door for me and stepping inside after me.
“I’m surprised to see you here tonight. I assumed I’d have to come find you,” he hummed. I was
surprised when he didn’t walk into his office, instead leading me further down the hallway. We
wound through the maze of a house in silence for a while until Dorian pushed open the door to a
library. I realized he wasn’t in all black. He was wearing dark blue pants and a white shirt, no
buttons, no coat. It was a stark difference, a surprisingly delicious one. “You’ll have to excuse my
delay. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”
I looked around the enormous library, sucking in a deep breath. It was stunning, with a huge
fireplace on one side of the room. The whole room was several stories tall, with stained glass and
Victorian furniture. It was like stepping back in time a couple hundred years.
“My Runners don’t trust me. One of them is taking a leave of absence I’m not sure they’ll return
from,” I said, not looking at Dorian as I walked along the wall, scanning through leather spines of
books in dozens of languages. “Apparently there is a movement out there to ruin my reputation and the
validity of all Runners. I’m having a very bad night.”
“Can I pour you a drink?”
“Fine,” I sighed, pulling a red leather book from the shelf. It seemed to be The Odyssey, in Greek.
The old pages crinkled beneath my fingers, and I sucked in a breath as I flipped through it.
“What’s your liquor of choice?” Dorian asked
“Tonight, I don’t really care. Can you read this?”
“Of course I can.”
I set the book on the shelf, turning to look at him. “What do you want from me, Sterling?”
Dorian didn’t look at me, instead gently stirring a metal rod into two drinks. “I think it’s a little
early for me to answer that question.”
“But you do want something?” I inclined my chin.
He turned then, crossing the room to hold a glass up to me. It was an old-fashioned, a small
orange peel curling around a large square of ice. I took it, careful not to let my skin touch his, swirling
it around in my cup. Dorian smirked slowly, sipping his and moving away. He sat back on one of the
couches near the fireplace, motioning for me to join him.
What was I doing here?
I huffed out a long breath, walking down a few steps and crossing the room to sit on the couch
opposite of Dorian, looking up at the enormous fireplace. It arched well over my head, the heat of the
flames pouring over my skin. I relished in the warmth. I spent so much time outside in the middle of
the night that sometimes I forgot what the sun felt like.
I didn’t see Dorian move, but then he was standing next to me with an empty wine glass, holding it
out confidently. I sucked in a breath, pulling a blade from my belt. My hand shook as I handed it to
him, trading him for the glass. Dorian’s hand was cold as he took mine, holding it still as he slid the
knife down my skin. A strained cry fell from my mouth and I tensed instinctively as I watched the
blood leak out of my body and into the glass.
It filled surprisingly quickly. Dorian placed a handkerchief over my bleeding wrist, and I watched
him use my blade again to prick the center of his palm, holding it out. He offered to heal the cut he’d
made.
I gulped, leaning forward to place my mouth over the wound, keeping my eyes up on his as I ran
my tongue through the puddle of blood. Dorian pulled back, hissing softly and I swallowed. When I
looked down at my wrist, it had already healed. The Coven Master took the wine glass from me,
returning to his seat across from me.
I watched him in silence, sickened and intrigued by the blood he swirled around in the glass. His
eyes remained on me, practically taunting, reminding me that, no matter how many weapons I wore,
he was the predator in this room. A shiver ran down my spine when he brought the glass to his lips.
His eyes fluttered closed for half a second and when he lowered the glass, his mouth was stained red.
I tried not to let my eyes linger on his lips, instead looking down at the old-fashioned in my hand.
“Why’d you come here, Miss Ashburn?”
“I’m here because I want to know what you want from me. I don’t have eternity to wait for an
answer.”
Dorian hummed, bringing the glass to his lips again. “I want you dead. Have I not made myself
clear?”
I scoffed. “I think you’re bluffing. If you wanted me dead, I would be dead already.”
“You’re not getting it.”
“Then spell it out for me,” I snapped.
Dorian let out a long breath. He tipped the rest of the glass into his mouth, setting it down next to
him slowly. I watched him as he stood, crossing the small landing to lean over me. I didn’t stop him
when he closed his hand over my throat and squeezed, baring a set of bloody fangs.
“Careful who you’re talking to,” he hissed.
“You don’t scare me, Sterling.” I stared up at him. “You’re all bark and no bite.”
“Except my plan is working,” he whispered. My eyes dropped to his bloody mouth, my breath
catching. “Your life is in shambles. You suffer so beautifully and you come crawling to me. You’ll be
mine before you know it.”
“I belong to no one.”
“Not yet, Phoenix.” Dorian tilted my head back so I’d look him in the eyes again. “Not yet.”
I growled. Then I kissed him.
I wasn’t sure who leaned forward first, but the next thing I knew, my mouth was on Dorian’s. I
tasted my own blood, bitter and metallic. Dorian’s tongue slipped past my lips and his hand dropped
from my throat. Hungrily, I leaned up further, scared to touch him but desperate for more. Thankfully,
he leaned into me, resting his knee on the couch between my thighs. He kissed me deeper, harder,
faster and I lay beneath him like his queen and victim all at once. Dorian’s hands rested on the couch
on either side of my head, mine fluttered at my sides, unsure whether he’d let me touch him. God, he
was a good kisser.
I didn’t want him to stop.
 I gasped into his mouth when his fangs brushed my tongue. The sensation sent shivers through me,
and I smiled into his mouth. Dorian only kissed me harder, groaning softly. Finally, I reached up,
grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him close. My heart galloped in my chest, my whole body
trembled with some mixture of fear and anticipation.
I was kissing the most powerful man in the world.
The sound of a door slamming open and a too-chipper voice ripped me from my trance. “Hey,
Dorian - oh.”
Dorian pulled back from me with a hiss, the quick movement spilling my old-fashioned over the
floor. I froze, looking at Stella in the doorway. She leaned against the door, licking her lips and
nodding slowly, like she was trying not to burst into laughter.
“I was going to say you should call Phoenix, but it seems there’s no need.” Stella grinned like a
giddy child, nodding to me.
“What is it, Stella?” Dorian growled, walking away from me without a glance.
I caught a glimpse of Stella’s companion from earlier lingering out on the hall. Her red lipstick
was smeared across her face, and I noticed some of it on Stella’s mouth too. Stella’s perfect curls
were ruffled, but she appeared unbothered as she approached Dorian and showed him her phone. He
took it, scrolling through a couple of photos before nodding.
He looked over at me. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure.”
He walked out, closing the library door behind him.
I walked around while he was gone, running my hands along the wallpaper, and looking through
the bookshelves - thousands of books in dozens of languages. Finally, I walked to the desk in the
middle of the room, peering down at what had been left on top of it. The laptop was closed, I didn’t
try to open it. Instead, I knelt down and opened the top drawer, pulling out the papers inside of it.
Most of it was boring legal jargon, and I put it back carefully, moving onto the next drawer.
This one had tequila and glasses. I shut it in amusement, moving to the third drawer. More papers
in this one. I sat in the massive chair as I flipped through them. There was one buried in the middle
that mentioned the Coven Heir.
I saw it before I put the papers back, pausing curiously. I pulled the papers out, realizing it was a
contract for the new Heir. The Coven hadn’t announced the new Monarch yet, nor had I seen anyone
lingering around who might have been a candidate. It seemed like any powerful vampire in the area
was on my kill list. I flipped to the second page, where the contract went on and on discussing the
duties of the Heir.
My heart stopped at the bottom of the page.
My name was typed above a signature line.
“I didn’t take you for one to snoop where you don’t belong.” I jumped up at the sound of Dorian’s
voice, looking up to see him leaning in the doorway. His eyes were dark and angry as he watched me.
Heart racing, I held up the contract. “What is this?”
“None of your concern,” Dorian growled. “Put it back.”
I shook my head, my voice shaking when I spoke. “This has my name on it, Sterling. What the hell
is it?”
Dorian stood straight, taking a deep breath. I didn’t see him move, but I felt him against me as he
pushed me against the bookshelf. I yelped in pain, the contract falling from my hand as I lost my
breath. Dorian snarled like a vicious animal, his hand on my throat.
“Careful, Miss Ashburn, I’m losing my patience with you,” he hissed.
 “You seemed to have plenty of patience with your tongue down my throat,” I spat back.
His hand tightened on my neck, so tight I saw stars. Instinctively, I reached up to claw at his wrist,
tears welling in my eyes. He was unmovable, death incarnate and his eyes were set on me. I managed
a raspy sob, my eyes rolling up into my head as I struggled to breathe.
“Do you know what would happen if I killed you now, Phoenix?” Dorian whispered in my ear, his
hand tightening even more.
I tried to shake my head, but I wasn’t sure I managed it.
“You have vampire blood in your system, my blood. You would become the thing you detest the
most.”
Terror filled my body; I swore I felt something pop in my neck.
Then he let go.
Sobbing and gasping, I fell to my knees in front of the Coven Master.
 Chapter 28

D orian stepped away from me, picking the papers up off the ground where I’d dropped them. I
coughed and trembled, spit falling from my mouth as I hunched over the ground. Small, raspy
cries fell from my mouth as my chest convulsed, trying to suck in as much air as I could.
“If you must know what I want from you,” Dorian said. “I want you dead, Miss Ashburn. I want
you to sign this.” I flinched, sobbing when he dropped the papers in front of me. Slowly, Dorian knelt
down in front of me, reaching forward to tilt my chin up so I’d look at him. The movement sent
throbbing pain through my bruised neck, and I whined deeply. “But first, I want you to beg for it.”
Disgusted, I shoved him back.
Dorian hissed as he stood, baring his fangs. I pushed myself off my knees, using the side of the
bookshelf to stand. I picked the contract up off the floor with me, wiping spit off my lips. It hurt to
breathe and swallow, but I looked at the powerful vampire with fury in every cell of my body. I
ripped the contract in two, tossing it on the ground.
“I’d rather rot in the ground,” I rasped.
He didn’t stop me when I left.

THE RUNNERS WERE all asleep when I walked into the apartment, and I was grateful for it. I’d endured
an hour-long cab drive with a driver who wanted to take me to the hospital. He was kind enough,
probably thinking I was abused by my boyfriend. I’d wanted to tell him I was Phoenix Ashburn, I
could handle this. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I’d ever had an injury hurt as much as this one.
I’d never been so scared of dying.
I’d seen stars. I thought my neck had broken.
Now I could barely breathe, and tears stained my face. I walked straight to my room, shutting and
locking the door. My belt joined my boots on the floor. I sobbed as I pulled off my shirt and shoved
off my pants. I limped to the bathroom, pausing a moment before flicking on the light.
My throat was a dozen shades of black and blue. There was a very defined handprint across the
center, but the bruises leaked beyond the borders like spilled ink. Delicately, I reached up to touch it,
immediately flinching away and sniffling. I moved to turn on the shower and then stumbled to the
medicine cabinet, searching for any pain medication. I needed water, but was too scared to walk back
out of the room and encounter one of my Runners. I took two pills from a previous injury with sink
water, not caring what they were - only that they would take away the pain.
The shower was agonizing. Every drop of water that touched my neck elicited another sob. A few
times, I yelled in frustration. Eventually, I sank to the ground and let the water pour over my head until
it ran cold.

I WOKE UP LATE. It was already plenty dark outside when I rolled to look out my window. I could hear
my Runners moving around the apartment. Today was the day Gwen would join us as a member of the
team. I should have been excited. Instead, I could barely muster the energy to stand up. I stared up at
the ceiling, silent tears dripping down my cheeks as I attempted to breathe evenly. Twice, while I lay
there crying, someone knocked at my door and called my name.
I ignored them.
My phone buzzed with a few text messages, but I was too tired to even think about lifting my hand
to check it.
I think I fell back asleep.
I woke up again sometime in the middle of the night. Breathing was easier this time and I managed
to roll over to grab my phone. I saw seven texts from Shina, each of them angrier than the one before.
There were three messages from Jonah to accompany those and one from Beck saying they’d booked
their flight and were leaving tonight. All of those paled in comparison to the other two.
The first, from Abigail.
How did you do it? I know it was you.
It was about her dead vampire boyfriend, I was sure.
I didn’t respond.
The last message was from Dorian, three hours ago. A time and place to be. The meeting time was
an hour ago. I swore. I’d made him angry again. The memory of his hand around my throat echoed
through my mind and I felt sick. Weakly, I sat up, my hands shaking as I texted him back.
Sorry, busy trying not to die. Hope you’ll understand.
I slipped out of bed, my head swimming as I walked to the bathroom to look at the bruises in the
mirror. It looked like they’d faded slightly as the last of the vampire blood in my system worked.
Still, they were grotesque and dark. No amount of makeup would cover them.
I had to leave the room.
I had to deal with my Runners.
I dressed carefully, braiding my hair back out of my face. I strapped on my boots and my belt,
tucking my phone in my pocket. I stood at the door for a few minutes, letting my courage build before I
opened the door.
Gwen was here.
I could hear her cheerful, southern twang in the living room. Shina’s voice faltered mid-story and
I knew she’d heard my door open. I inclined my chin, fighting the urge to cry again as I walked out to
join them. Beck was still here, sitting on the ottoman and laughing with Gwen. I saw the horror in
their eyes as I entered.
Shina leapt from the couch first. “Oh, my god, Phoenix. Are you okay?”
 “I’m fine,” I rasped, my eyes drooping. I stepped away from her, narrowly avoiding her touching
my throat. “Good to see you, Gwen, sorry I wasn’t at the airport.”
“It’s okay,” she breathed, her eyes on my neck.
“Phoenix, you need to go to a hospital.” Shina followed me like a pest as I walked towards the
kitchen, finding a bottle of water in the fridge.
“I’m fine,” I repeated. Each gulp of water was like acid. “Bondage got a little out of hand.” I tried
to joke, but the laugh got caught in my throat, coming out strangled and pathetic.
I checked my phone. No response from Dorian.
I couldn’t stand to stay in this apartment. Already the incessant questions brought tears of fear and
frustration to my eyes. My hands shook at my sides. I couldn’t make eye contact with any of the
Runners in the room. I had to get out of here.
“I have to go out,” I said slowly, drinking the rest of the water and reaching for another bottle.
“Red.” Beck stood from the couch in concern. “Who did this?”
I held up my hand. “Don’t make me lie to you again,” I whispered, backing towards the door.
“Please, I have to go.”
“Phoenix!” Shina called.
Tears dripped down my face as I left.
 Chapter 29

I didn’t have to go far to find the Coven Master.

His car was in front of my apartment building.
I placed my hand on the railing as I walked down the last steps onto the sidewalk, a small
groan falling from my mouth. Frantically, I wiped my tears of pain and frustration, straightening as I
approached the car. The front passenger opened, and Stella Khatri stepped out with a solemn look on
her face. Her eyes dropped to my throat, and they widened considerably.
“I’d watch the attitude tonight,” she muttered as she opened the back door for me.
I nodded once, glancing back at the apartment building. There was a figure in the window of my
apartment. I tensed and Stella followed my eyes, turning her body so no one in the building could see
her face. Quietly, I slipped into the backseat, coming face to face with a very angry Dorian Sterling.
The door closed behind me and I glanced back, expecting to see Stella sliding into the front seat
again. She was gone, like she was never there at all. My stomach rose into my throat as I looked at the
Coven Master. He was paler than he normally was, his eyes a dark forest instead of a glittering
emerald.
“I didn’t intend to miss your message,” I said carefully, pressing myself against the door as the car
lurched forward. My heart beat faster and I instinctively reached up to tug on the collar of my shirt.
“Doesn’t matter now, I took care of it myself,” Dorian growled. I realized there was dried blood
on his hands. He clenched his hands into fists. “I’m losing my patience with you, Miss Ashburn.”
Dorian’s eyes were dark and full of death.
“Then kill me,” I whispered. “You could do it now, there’s no vampire blood in my system
anymore.”
“You’re missing the point,” he snapped, turning to look at me. I flinched back against the car door,
gasping in pain. Dorian licked his lips, and I watched his eyes drop down to my bruised neck. “I
don’t want you dead, Phoenix. I only want to kill you.”
I opened my mouth to demand more of an explanation. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t be
killed, but not dead.
You have vampire blood in your system, my blood. You would become the thing you detest the
most.
Dorian Sterling wanted to make me a vampire.
I sucked in a shaky breath and a pathetic whine fell from my lips. Dorian watched me for a long
moment, relishing in the fear rolling off of me in tsunami waves. To become a vampire, one had to die
with vampire blood in their system. The blood would resurrect them, and that was it - they were
undead. I remembered a study conducted in the 1950s by a mad scientist who was obsessed with
trying to figure out how vampire blood worked in the body to bring it back and reanimate it. He killed
thirty-seven people for his study, promising them safety and comfort only to behead them all after they
rose as a vampire. The results were inconclusive, there was no scientific explanation to the magic of
vampire blood.
I stared at Dorian and wondered what those thirty-seven people went through in the moments
before their final death - terror, confusion, betrayal, hormones unlike anything they’d ever
experienced. Then, nothing at all.
Dorian moved closer and I flinched again when he placed his hands on either side of my face. The
caked blood was sticky and scratchy against my cheeks, and I tensed, holding my breath. I didn’t want
to pull away for fear of the pain from my neck wounds, but he was so close I thought I might faint.
Dorian let out a hiss of a breath, his hand tracing down to my bruised throat. He barely touched me,
and pain blossomed from my bruises, tears welling in my eyes. I whined, praying he wouldn’t
squeeze.
“So delicately, pathetically human,” Dorian whispered, almost to himself. “Are you afraid of
me?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. “Good girl.”
My breath caught. Dorian licked his lips, watching me squirm beneath his featherlight touch. A
tear rolled down my cheek. He sighed and I watched him drag his bottom lip along his fangs, drawing
blood.
Then he kissed me.
The first kiss was agony - pain and fire. Dorian’s mouth moved against mine, covering the sob that
escaped me. Blood smeared across my lips and dripped into my mouth. I swallowed slowly; my
bruises tingled as they faded. Dorian continued to kiss me, one hand placed gently on my cheek and
the other sliding down to grip my waist.
Even as the pain faded, I kept kissing him, lost in the sensation of how it felt to truly be alive. This
was the edge of death and the precipice of living all at once and I wanted so much more of it. The
blood stopped flowing, leaving only an echo of the taste on my tongue as it traced Dorian’s. I pushed
away from where I was pinned against the door, reaching up to grab his tie and kiss him harder. My
movement elicited a deep groan from the Coven Master and his grip on me tightened. He tasted like
blood and something sweet - caramel, maybe.
He reached up behind me and I paused, watching as he pulled up a divider between the front and
back of the car. Then his mouth was on mine, pulling me against him desperately - like all he’d ever
wanted was me.
I let him. I wanted him. I wanted to feel like this forever.
Bravely, I boosted myself up to straddle his lap, one hand on his tie and the other in his hair as I
kissed him. I relished in the realization that the most powerful man in the world was pinned beneath
me; the small gasps falling from his lips were because of me. Hunger and desire roared inside me and
I let myself get lost in the haze. Dorian’s hands were on my hips, firm and then fluttering, almost like
he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
I lowered my hips to rest against his, surprised to feel him hard beneath his pants. I rolled my
core against his, whining into his moan. His hands tightened on me, pulling me harder against him. I
gasped into his mouth, dragging my teeth over his bottom lip before moving back to kiss him harder.
Dorian pulled back suddenly, and I paused, worried he’d shove me away. Instead, he reached up and
pulled the hair tie out of my braids. My hair fell in waves over my shoulders, and the Coven Master
sucked in a deep breath before leaning up to kiss me again.
My tongue ran over his and I tugged on his tie, undoing it clumsily. His mouth parted from mine
long enough for me to pull it over his head and toss it on the seat next to us. My whole body trembled
with anticipation. I rocked against him, harder this time, relishing in the friction against my core.
Dorian pulled away again, but this time he paused. I looked down at him, my heart pounding in my
chest. Surely, my cheeks were flushed; I could barely catch my breath.
“Tell me what you want, Phoenix.”
“You,” I whispered.
He reached up, gripping my chin and pulling me down so my mouth was inches from his. He ran
his thumb over my bottom lip, humming. “Are you afraid of me?”
“Not right now,” I answered honestly, closing my lips over his thumb. Something flashed in his
eyes, and he leaned up to kiss me again, softer this time.
“Say you want me again.”
Shivers ran down my spine. “I want you.”
Dorian hummed, leaning down to press delicate kisses down my jaw, over my neck. I felt his
hands on my belt, heard the click of him pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. Immediately, I felt
naked and vulnerable without my weapons, but the feeling of Dorian running his tongue over my
collarbone distracted any rational thoughts I had. God, his mouth felt good. With a quiver, I wondered
how it would feel between my legs. I reached up, tanging my fingers in his surprisingly soft hair,
pulling him closer.
Carefully, I undid the first button to Dorian’s shirt, then the second when I was sure he wouldn’t
push me away. I felt like I was walking a thin line, fighting through an endless night to find my way to
the man beneath all of the darkness. Dorian sat back, licking his lips, watching me as I undid the rest
of his buttons, pushing his shirt open. I resisted the urge to moan as I ran my hands down his cool
chest. He looked like a chiseled Greek god beneath the shadows of his clothes.
I leaned down, kissing along his neck and down his chest. My tongue left wet trails over his
abdomen as I slid to the ground in front of him. Dorian spread his legs as I nestled between them, and
heat blossomed in my chest when I looked up. I’d been with men before. Small, submissive men who
tried not to look me in the eyes and didn’t know how to handle someone more dangerous than they
were. They’d strip me naked in bed and spend too much time trying to please me and usually failing.
Their eyes were shaded, and their hands fluttered over me like I’d burst into flames and consume
them.
Dorian was the opposite of all of them.
If I was made of fire, he was ice - eternal and unmoving. He watched me as I undid his belt. I
practically salivated at the thought of taking this powerful man in my mouth and making him squirm. I
should have been afraid of him, considering the bruises that had covered my neck minutes ago. The
dark look in his eyes now, though, had me longing to have his hand around my throat again, his voice
in my ear telling me I was a good girl.
Dorian nudged my hands away, lifting his hips to push his pants and underwear down to around
his ankles. I licked my lips, humming softly as I leaned forward, catching his eyes for permission
before running my tongue down his stomach. His length was heavy and hard when I took it in my hand.
I paused when Dorian reached down, brushing my hair out of my face gently. I dragged my tongue up
the length of him, humming as I took the tip on my mouth.
Quietly, the Coven Master gasped.
I lowered my mouth as far as I could, dragging it back up slowly. A strand of red hair fell onto my
forehead, and Dorian brushed it back again, this time tangling his fingers in my hair and pushing me
back down. I groaned deeply, bracing myself with one hand on his hip and reaching up to follow my
mouth with my hand wrapped around him. Dorian guided my mouth up and down, gently at first, then
harder. His hand tightened in my hair when he moaned deeply. My whole body felt heated, my eyes
rolling back into my head in delight. I stuck my tongue out, dragging it along the underside of his
length as my mouth moved up and down quickly. I dug my nails into his hip, whining as his length hit
the back of my throat repeatedly. I pulled back, gasping for a deep breath, saliva running down my
chin. Dorian leaned down quickly, catching my mouth with his and pulling me back onto his lap.
I gasped when he reached up, tugging on the collar of my shirt. It felt like he barely touched it, but
the fabric split down the middle and he pushed it over my shoulders. His mouth was everywhere- my
neck, my chest, my stomach. He popped the clasp on my bra, and I shrugged out of it, gasping when he
took one breast in his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. I reached between us, pumping him
with my hand, trembling beneath his touch.
Dorian grabbed me by my hip and pulled my legs from beneath me. I yelped softly, landing against
the door. His lips tilted in a small smile as he popped the button on my pants, pulling them down
without a moment of hesitation. I wanted to touch him again, to pull him close and lose myself in him -
but the look in his eyes kept me pinned in place. He looked at me like I was the only thing he’d ever
wanted.
I was more than willing to let him devour me.
Dorian’s hands ran down my naked body, his eyes alight with a thousand flames as he looked
down at me. His hand slid between my legs, and immediately I gasped desperately. My eyes flicked
to the front of the car, suddenly self-conscious about the driver. Dorian used his free hand to bring my
attention back to him, tracing his thumb over my lip as he pushed one finger inside, and then two
quickly - I was unbelievably wet and desperate for him. He leaned forward to kiss me deeply, his
fingers pushing in and out of me quickly. I whined into his mouth, feeling his fangs drag along my
bottom lip in punishment.
Heat was building in my stomach now, and I rocked my hips up to meet Dorian’s hand. I wanted
more, so much more. He pulled back to look down at me, my blood staining his lips. I wouldn’t have
thought that would be arousing, but I quivered in delight anyway. Dorian licked his lips, his hand still
moving so perfectly inside of me. I could feel the cold of his rings against my entrance, tracing my
skin as he pumped his fingers in and out of me.
He leaned forward again, placing his free hand on the door behind me to boost himself up. “Go
ahead,” he whispered dreamily. “Come for me, Phoenix.”
I hadn’t thought I was ready yet, but his words sent an orgasm rolling through me. I came undone,
seeing stars and writhing in delight. Dorian said something else, but I was too distracted by the
movements of his fingers inside of me. He didn’t stop until I was quivering on the other side of my
high.
He lifted me easily, kissing over my face and neck as he pulled me onto his lap. I returned his
kisses, raking my fingers through his hair, tasting blood on his lips. A long moan escaped my mouth
when Dorian teased my wet entrance, sliding his length up and down a few times. I slid onto him in
desperation, nearing coming again at the moan that came from his mouth.
Heat ignited within me, and I lost my mind as I rode him. Dorian’s hands and mouth were
everywhere, always touching me, controlling my flames so effortlessly. I slid my hand down my own
body, toying with my clit lazily. He pushed me away, replacing my own touch with his. My head fell
back in pleasure, his name escaping my lips as I felt the world coming to an end.
Dorian thrusted up to meet each roll of my hips, growling in concentration. I thrusted my hips in a
circle, and that was it.
I came undone.
The whole world shattered.
I fell forward onto Dorian, and he held me tightly, warning me in a whisper of his own release as
I came down.
I remembered we were in a car as it pulled to a slow stop.
 Chapter 30

A n intense blush rose on my cheeks as I looked up, bewildered. Lazily, Dorian kissed down my
neck as he lifted my hips from his. I sighed at the lack of contact and slid off of him, suddenly
feeling very self-conscious. I’d all but forgotten the fear I’d felt when I first got into the car - it
returned now. I crossed my arms over my chest and gulped.
“Where are we?”
“My penthouse. Get dressed.”
“You ripped my shirt,” I said, awkwardly reaching for my pants and pulling them on.
He handed me his.
I dressed quickly, catching the hesitation in his eyes when I strapped my belt back on. Dorian
shrugged into his coat, still shirtless underneath and I let my eyes roam over his bare chest as he
opened the car door. I followed, my legs shaking slightly when I stood. Dorian waited for me outside,
placing his hand on my back and leading me to the huge glass doors. The doorman nodded to Dorian,
keeping his eyes forward and not bothering to acknowledge me. My heart raced at the feeling of
Dorian’s hand on my back, guiding me through the building.
Images flashed in my head. His mouth on my neck, his hand between my thighs, his length in my
mouth. I licked my lips, reminding myself of the fury he’d directed towards me seconds before he
kissed me. Stella had warned me of his anger, and now that we’d reached our destination, it seemed
his dark mood had returned. Still, I found myself staring at his mouth in the elevator, wishing it was
on me again.
What the hell was wrong with me?
The penthouse was dark when we walked in. Dorian flicked on the lights. It was surprisingly
modern, decorated in shades of gray and white. My eyes settled on the floor-to-ceiling windows that
proudly displayed a skyline view of Manhattan. I approached the windows, instinctively placing one
hand on my belt as I turned my back on the predator behind me. I looked at Dorian when I saw his
reflection behind me, offering me a glass of water.
“Why am I here?” I asked quietly.
“Have a seat.” He motioned for the black leather couches.
I nodded, moving to sit in the corner of one of them, trying to ignore the ache in my thighs. Dorian
walked to the kitchen again, picking something up off the counter and returning to sit across from me.
He sat a manila folder between us, waiting.
 I picked it up, licking my lips. Flipping it open, my breath when I saw the same stack of papers
that had led to him nearly snapping my neck. The ones with my name on them, about the Coven Heir. I
closed the folder without reading them, my stomach flipping, and set it back down on the couch
cushion.
“Why is my name on these, Dorian?”
He sat back, his chest still bare. I tried to keep my eyes off of it, but then they moved to his mouth.
I looked away, reminding myself to focus.
“Because I want you to be my Heir.”
Dorian’s words could have stopped the world from turning. My heart skipped a beat, and I took a
long drink of water to catch my breath. Dorian Sterling wanted me to be the Heir to the Coven. He
wanted me to be a vampire.
“Why?” My voice came out raspier, more broken than I intended.
“Because I think you’re the best person for it.”
I shook my head, looking at him. “I’m human. I’m a Runner. I’m the opposite of what you’re
looking for.”
He inclined his chin. “Are you, though?”
I stood up from the couch, setting my glass on the coffee table. “Yes!” I cried. “It’s my job to kill
you, not become you.”
Dorian scoffed. “You see life in black and white, Phoenix. Plenty of Runners become vampires.”
I shook my head. “Not Runners like me. Not great ones.”
Dorian’s eyes darkened. Slowly, he stood, and I took an instinctive step backwards. He shrugged
out of his coat, tossing it on the couch, leaving his entire torso bare.
“How many tally marks do you have tattooed?”
“Twenty-three,” I said proudly.
Twenty-three vampires in my first thirty days as a Runner, the number that set me apart from every
other Runner alive. Dorian turned.
My breath caught as I took in the ragged tally marks tattooed down his spine. Five, ten, twenty,
thirty… forty-five of them. Some were faded and barely visible, while others remained bright and
crisp. I walked forward, hesitantly reaching forward and tracing my fingers down Dorian’s spine. He
tensed at my touch, unmoving as I tapped my fingers down his back. They were the same marks as
mine, except older, different somehow.
Dorian Sterling was a Runner. At least, he had been, a long time ago.
“Runners kill vampires because they relish in the power of the kill. They become vampires once
they realize that power can last forever.” Dorian turned slowly to face me, reaching to tilt my chin up.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my gaze catching on his mouth. “It’s only a matter of time for you.”
I tried to shake my head, to tell him he was wrong about me, but then he was kissing me again.
And I wanted him to.
I sighed into the kiss, stepping closer to him. Dorian wrapped one arm around my waist, cupping
my face with his free hand. He kissed me gently at first, slow and steady. The questions I had died on
my lips as I leaned up further, deepening the kiss in some desperate attempt to feel something. Dorian
made me feel something. He made me frightened and exhilarated. Everything I longed for each night,
with each hunt and kill, I felt while I kissed him. I yelped in surprise when he kicked one foot out
from under me, but I only fell back onto the couch. He lowered himself on top of me, dragging his
mouth down my jaw as he reached up to undo the buttons of the shirt I wore.
He unhooked my weapons belt again, tossing it out of arm’s reach. I smirked, sitting up a little to
catch his mouth with mine and pull him back down to me. Growling, he shook his head, standing again
and taking my hand, pulling me with him. I followed him down the hall, my eyes widening at the huge
bedroom we walked into.
Dorian grabbed a remote off the nightstand, and I watched the blackout curtains slide open,
revealing a nearly 360-degree view of Manhattan. I couldn’t help the smile that spread over my face
as I padded across the room, looking out the window. I felt like I was on top of the world, my soul
soaring at the view.
Dorian walked up behind me, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, then my neck. “You like it?” He
murmured, his hands sliding down my sides.
“Yes.”
“I thought you might.”
I fought a blush when he reached around me, unbuttoning my pants and pushing them over my hips.
I stepped out of them, turning to look at him again. For the first time, there was no anger or
darkness in his eyes. Instead, there was a youthful curiosity. Reaching behind me, I unhooked the
clasp to my bra, inclining my chin as it dropped to the ground. Dorian licked his lips, reaching down
to undo his own belt and pants. God, he was gorgeous. Holding his gaze, I backed away from him,
boosting myself up onto the bed and crawling towards the pillows. Dorian followed slowly, stopping
at the edge of the bed. He reached forward, grabbing me by both ankles and pulling me back so I lay
directly in front of him. His eyes were darkening now, desire filling them once more as he looked at
me. He wanted me. The most powerful man in the world wanted me. I watched as he slipped off my
underwear, leaving me completely naked.
He licked his lips again, sucking in a deep breath. His eyes found mine and my breath caught at
the look on his face. “I’m going to make you scream,” he breathed.
Shivers ran down my spine, and I nodded eagerly. “I dare you.”
A growl rumbled in his chest. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing delicate kisses down the
inside of my thighs. I sighed, relaxing back on the sheets, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on me.
Twice, he paused to run his tongue down my skin and both times I whined in desperation. I writhed
beneath him, desperate for him to put his mouth where I burned the hottest. He didn’t. He took his
time, kissing and licking everywhere except where I needed him.
Dorian’s mouth moved up my stomach, his tongue circling around my breasts, leaving streams of
gooseflesh in his wake. I whined again, reaching for him, only to have him catch my hand and pin it at
my side.
“Patience,” he hissed.
“I don’t have any.”
He almost smiled. Then he leaned down and dragged his tongue along my core. I cried out in
shock, a wave of pleasure rolling through me. Dorian knelt down at the edge of the bed, his hands on
my thighs as he moved his tongue against me like I was the most delicious treat. He moaned deeply,
his grip tightening considerably as he buried his face against me. I reached forward, lacing my fingers
in his hair. I gripped his hair tightly, pulling him against me, my whole body trembling at his
movements.
Dorian released one of my thighs, and I gasped when his hand joined his mouth. He pulled back,
dragging his tongue along his middle finger before pushing it inside me. I writhed in delight. Dorian
lowered his mouth back to me, his tongue tracing around my clit, sucking softly. I gripped the sheets
on either side of me, rocking my hips up to meet his mouth desperately. Dorian hummed again, the
vibrations pulsing through me, and I yelped in shock, feeling heat begin to build in my stomach.
 When I reached for his hair again, Dorian gripped both of my hands tightly, pinning them on my
stomach. He hummed deeper this time and I think I cried out, but I wasn’t sure. The whole world spun
in circles around me, a kaleidoscope of city lights and Dorian’s mouth.
He released my hands as I came, holding onto my hips and continuing to move his mouth against
me until I was a trembling mess beneath him. I ran my hands through my hair, gasping for breath as
Dorian stood, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed. He barely gave me a moment to breathe before
pushing into me.
“Oh, god.”
Dorian smirked as he thrusted into me hard and fast. Surely, this was going to leave bruises on my
thighs, but I didn’t care. I had never felt this good. Dorian growled in concentration, gripping my hips
to hold me still, victim to his thrusts and my eyes found his fangs with a new curiosity. I watched him
as he fucked me, wondering how his fangs would feel in my throat while he was inside of me. He
licked his lips, slowing slightly to take a deep breath.
He pulled away suddenly, reaching for my hands. I let him help me up, blushing again when he
turned me around, bending me over the edge of the bed. Delighted, I gripped the sheets, feeling
Dorian position himself to push into me. As he did, he pulled me upwards, so I was standing, my back
arched, my head back on his shoulder. Dorian’s hand closed over my throat, gently this time, and his
other hand slipped between my legs to the place where he thrusted into me.
Oh, my god.
Dorian’s fingers traced over my clit and I felt his breath on my ear as he thrusted harder and
faster. I yelped when he shifted upwards, penetrating me deeper than before. His hand moved faster
against my clit, heat building in my stomach.
“Mine,” he whispered in my ear, his hand tightening on my throat ever so slightly.
I nodded, dazed, unsure how I was still standing. I was so close, tilting over the edge of
unimaginable pleasure.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I cried as my orgasm crashed over me. I think I screamed.
Dorian whispered his release in my ear as he held me tight through my own orgasm, his hands
never moving. His rough thrusts slowed to a stop and I trembled as he pressed kisses down my neck,
releasing his grip. I sucked in a deep breath of air, slumping forward to lean on the bed as he slipped
out of me. Every muscle in my body went limp, my mind reeling in a thousand different directions all
at once. Dorian caught me easily, humming and lifting me off the ground. He carried me to the
bathroom and I rested my head on his shoulder tiredly.
I remembered the shower.
I didn’t remember much after that.
 Chapter 31

I woke up in my own room, wrapped in my own blankets. I wore a silk robe that I vaguely
remembered Dorian helping me into last night after the shower.
I winced softly when I moved again, kicking off the blankets and lifting the robe to reveal
bruises on my thighs - bruises in the shape of handprints. A blush rose in my cheeks, and I traced my
fingers over the dark marks left by a king of night. I had never felt so satisfied after sex, like my
whole body was alive in the memory of being beneath Dorian Sterling. I let the robe fall, standing out
of the bed. My legs shook slightly, and my hips ached at the movement. The curtains and window
were open, a cool night time breeze blowing in from outside. Slowly, I turned my head to look at the
window, wincing. My muscles ached in exhaustion when I moved, and I took a deep breath.
I didn’t remember coming home.
Images flashed in my mind.
“Say you’re mine.”
“Yours.”
Had I really said that? I licked my lips.
I only remembered falling asleep on Dorian Sterling’s couch.
I rubbed my shoulders from the cold as I stood out of bed, walking over to close the window. I
double checked to make sure it was locked, pulling the curtains closed. Clatters and laughter came
from the rest of the apartment and my heart sank at the thought of facing them. I showered first. As I
undressed in front of the mirror, I took in the sight of the handprints on my thighs with a shiver of
delight. A blush crept onto my cheeks as I showered, remembering how it felt to be touched by the
Coven Master. It was otherworldly.
“Say you’re mine.”
“Yours.”
Dorian Sterling wanted me to be the Heir to the Coven.
Of all the things I’d expected from him, it hadn’t been that. I thought he wanted me dead. I knew he
wanted me to suffer. I’d never considered he was trying to make me into more than I was. The Coven
Heir. A vampire. His.
I left my hair hanging over my shoulders, dressing quickly after my shower. I strapped on my belt,
tucked my phone in my pocket, and shoved an extra dagger in my boot today. I wrapped a scarf around
my neck, pretending to cover where the bruising would have been. If the team saw that the bruises
were gone, it wouldn’t be hard for them to discover what I’d done.
As soon as my door clicked open, the living room fell quiet. Shina and Jonah sat at the bar top and
I narrowed my eyes, noticing they sat a little closer together than they ever had before. They both
looked up when they saw me in the hallway. Shina stood first, her face a kaleidoscope of confusion.
My eyes found Gwen on the chair against the window, curled up like a cat. She looked up tiredly and
I noticed the book in her hand and a bruise on her arm.
Beck was still here.
I paused in shock when they leapt up from the couch. I thought they were long gone, caring for a
father who didn’t know them. “Where have you been?” They exclaimed, worry and anger clear on
their face.
My gaze moved between each of my Runners, and I rocked back on my heels in exhaustion.
“Phoenix, Abigail was here last night - we think something’s wrong.” Shina said.
I sucked in a breath. “What do you mean?”
“She didn’t look good.”
Horror flooded through me.
“Why was she here?” I whispered.
“She came looking for you while you were out.” Shina shrugged. “She was pretty desperate.”
“We think she’s a vampire,” Beck said hastily. Shina shot them a fierce glare.
“The fangs didn’t give it away?” I growled, trying to stay calm. I placed two hands on the counter
to hide their shaking. “How do you only think?”
New vampires were the most obvious of all. Their skin was ghostly pale, their eyes still sunken in
and lips blue or chapped. They looked dead, and were barely able to control their need for blood. As
they aged, they looked more and more human - except for their constant fangs. If Abigail had been
here, she’d looked ghastly. Clearly, my Runners were idiots.
I should have been here. I would have seen it. I could have stopped her from leaving.
Instead, I was lying beneath a vampire and betraying everyone in this room.
My stomach flipped.
“She didn’t want to stay when she realized you actually weren’t here.” Shina looked horrified,
placing her hand on her chest. “What happened to her?”
“She had a vampire boyfriend. I imagine he’s the culprit.” I looked down at my hands, shaking
even as they sat flat on the counter. He was dead, wasn’t he? How had Abigail gotten a hold of
vampire blood again? A single tear escaped and rolled down my face. I should have focused on
finding her sooner. I should have known she would try something like this. The truth was, I never
knew my sister at all. I’d stopped trying to know her almost ten years ago and now here we were. She
was in my city and she’d become a monster.
I’d sworn to save the world from monsters like her.
The realization settled into me. For a moment, I quivered in some heinous mixture of grief and
rage. Abigail wanted to become a vampire. She’d gotten her wish. Her mistake was doing it in my
city, where it was my job to purge the streets of vampire vermin. Abigail Ashburn had to die and I’d
be damned if I’d let anyone else do the job.
“Get dressed, let’s go find her.”
My Runners looked horrified. “Your own sister?” Jonah croaked.
“She’s not my sister anymore. She’s dead.”
None of them moved.
I slammed one hand on the counter, pulling more tears from my eyes. “Please, just get dressed,” I
cried, moving closer to keep my knees from going out from beneath me.
Beck moved first. Instead of disappearing down the hall, they moved closer, walking up to wrap
their arms around my torso from behind. I tried to pull away, snarling in frustration. They held fast,
hugging me tighter. I hated that they felt warm and safe. Tears streamed down my face and finally I
gave up.
Beck fell to the ground next to me, burying their face in my shoulder. Sobs racked my chest
violently and I could barely take a breath without screaming too. Somewhere beneath all my grief,
there was anger too, boiling, waiting to rise to the surface.
My sister was a vampire.
I had to kill her.
It was my job.
Finally, I leaned into Beck. My second-in-command held me while I crumbled into a thousand
pieces. Over their shoulder, I looked up to Shina and Jonah, standing together next to the counter.
Shina had tears in her eyes. Jonah stood straight and stoic as ever. Behind them, Gwen stood with her
hand over her heart - unsure what to do. All of them watched their Lead Runner break.
Then, they watched me go numb.
One moment, I was a soggy mess, and the next I felt nothing at all.
My tears and sobs stopped, like they had never been there at all. Finally, the anger boiling within
me spilled over, leaving no room for grief. Abigail Ashburn was dead. In her place was a reanimated
shell. I pulled away from Beck, standing slowly. I splashed water on my face over the sink, wiping
the last of the tears from my face.
“Get dressed,” I commanded.
No one hesitated this time.
 Chapter 32

B ig city vampires made little effort to hide their true identities. If one knew where to look, they’d
find vampires in every shadow and crevice. Usually, out of lingering respect for civilians, I’d
wait to kill them in alleyways where no one would see them die. Tonight, I did not care. My
blood boiled with rage and anticipation; I’d never wanted to hunt more than I did then.
The first vampire I found was a purple-haired girl carrying a bouquet of roses. She was talking on
the phone, laughing at something unimportant, and I saw her fangs flash from across the street. We
were in a busy part of town, and even though it was well after dark, civilians still littered the streets.
I signaled my Runners to stay where they were and I killed her while seventeen humans watched. I
left with a rose tucked into my belt.
The next was a middle-aged-looking man at a bar top. He smelled like whisky when I approached
him from behind and drove my stake into his back. I left him there to rot, blood dripping onto the
ground. Two dozen civilians watched in horror as I left the building without a second glance.
I was foolish to think things couldn't get any worse. I thought this would end when the Coven was
finished with me, but it was apparent now that it would not be the case. Dorian Sterling wanted more
from me. He wanted to make me his Heir. I had to figure out how to kill him before he grew bored of
letting me live.
First, I had to kill my sister.
Three hours into the night, I wore the blood of five more vampires. It stained my face, but I didn’t
bother to wipe it off. It soaked into my shirt; I let it stay - a display for others to see. My Runners
were horrified at my proactivity. They preferred to hunt in the dark like we’d always done. I was
filled with too much fury to shelter my flames with shadows.
I let Gwen try to kill the eighth vampire we found. She was scared. Like any job, being in school
and being in the field was a whole different experience. She was determined; I liked that about her.
She slunk through the shadows, a blade in one hand and a small coil of wire in the other. I hadn’t seen
her use the wire yet, but Shina and Jonah said it was astounding. I leaned against the wall of an
apartment building, motioning with two fingers for Beck to back her up if needed. Shina and Jonah
blended in with civilians across the street.
The vampire was a taxi driver. I watched him lean too close to the woman getting out of the cab,
pulling her luggage out of the trunk. She was on the phone, looking around at the buildings in
confusion - visiting someone, probably. My hand itched at my side as I watched the vampire follow
the woman as she walked away from the cab. She was oblivious, like most humans.
Then there was Gwen.
She practically unfurled from darkness itself, stepping up behind the vampire. In one fluid
movement, she shoved the knife into the lower back of the vampire and wrapped the wire around his
neck. The woman from the cab screamed, blood splashed on the concrete.
Gwen decapitated the vampire.
My eyes widened. Gwen stepped back from the vampire, inclining her chin. I saw it in her face
then, the same thing that drove me. Ambition. Glory. She was riding on the high of the kill.
I checked the time. It was after midnight. I refused to go back to the apartment without finding
Abigail. I wanted this to be over. I reached for my phone, ignoring a spot of blood on my thumb as I
texted the Coven Master.
Can you find someone for me?
Gwen sauntered back over to me with the biggest smile on her face. “Well done,” I told her. I
looked around at my Runners. “Anyone hungry?”
They all nodded in agreement. I motioned for Shina to lead the way, mumbling that I didn’t care
what we ate as long as we got food, running and hunting had made my stomach roar in hunger. My
phone chimed with a text. I walked behind the rest of the Runners, pulling it out to check the response.
You know my terms.
A wine glass of my blood in exchange for a favor. I didn’t hesitate. Done.
The phone rang.
I fell back a few more steps, watching my Runners like a hawk. They laughed and chattered,
congratulating Gwen on her kill. I didn’t have to say anything when I answered. Dorian spoke first, “I
told you it was only a matter of time.”
“For what?” I scoffed.
“Before you realized the power you could have,” he chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. “Can you find someone or not?”
“Of course, I can.”
“Abigail Ashburn,” I said.
“Why?”
“Why the questions?”
“I’ll call you back when I know where she is.”
I hung up, grumbling to myself as I jogged to join the others.
“Who was that?” Beck asked, tossing their arm over my shoulder.
“No one.”

DORIAN CALLED me back an hour later.

I slid out of my seat in the booth, where I’d been gorging myself on ramen and sushi. Jogging out
of the restaurant, I pressed the green button and sucked in a deep breath. Rain drizzled down now,
rinsing away the smell of sweat in the air.
“Where is she?”
“Staying at the Ritz.” Dorian sounded amused.
I snorted. “Seriously? Where the hell did she get that kind of money?”
 “That’ll cost you another glass.”
“Do you know the answer?” I glanced back at my Runners. Beck watched me cautiously, but the
others were all laughing.
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
“Her boyfriend was a vampire trust fund baby.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means his parents were vampires. His parents were human when they had him and became
vampires shortly after for some reason or another. Anyway, he was raised by vampires and became
one when they thought he was old enough. It’s not a common practice, but it’s done. His parents, both
dead now, were investors in-”
“Get to the point, Sterling,” I interrupted, looking away from the Runners and hoping they
wouldn’t get suspicious.
“That is the point, Ashburn,” Dorian mocked in response. “Her boyfriend was extremely wealthy.
It seems some of the money was signed into Abigail’s name shortly before I had her boy killed.”
“What’s her room number?”
Dorian gave it to me.
I hung up without thanking him.
Walking back into the restaurant, I leaned on the table with a deep breath. “I know where Abigail
is. Who’s coming with me?”
“I’ll go,” Gwen spoke up first.
The others offered me a mixture of disgust and apprehension. Shina opened and closed her mouth
a few times before lowering her eyes to stare at the sushi in front of her. Jonah glared at me, his lip
curled in disgust. Beck looked sad.
“Fine,” I growled, motioning for Gwen to get up. “Let’s go.”
“Are you sure about this?” Beck said, their shoulders slumping.
“Yes.”
They lowered their eyes.
None of them were coming, I knew that. Still, it stung that they looked at me like I was the monster
here.
I led the way out of the restaurant, Gwen hot on my heels. Walking to the sidewalk, I raised my
hand to hail a cab, slipping in the backseat and flashing my Runner badge. The driver grumbled, but
turned off the meter and asked where we were going. Gwen’s eyes visibly widened when I told him.
“My brother became a vampire,” she said after we drove in silence for ten minutes. I looked at
her in surprise. “I watched Runners kill him.”
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could think to say.
“It’s just - I understand what you’re going through. He looked like my brother, but he wasn’t
anymore.”
Someone asked me once if I thought vampires had souls. It was a common question because
technically one had to die to become a vampire. Those who were religious and believed in an
afterlife tended to think vampires were soulless monsters. Others saw how vampires could act very
human and believed, while they were undead, they still possessed a soul and a conscience. I’d never
considered it very much - all I needed to know was that they were evil and deserved to die.
I’d never known anyone who had become a vampire. I’d seen humans die beneath razor sharp
fangs time and time again - but they never returned. Truthfully, I didn’t know what to expect when I
faced Abigail. Would she be a stranger? Would she have a soul?
I thought of what Dorian Sterling said about Runners who became vampires when they realized
they could have more. He thought I would be worth more as a vampire. I was enough as I was.
Still, I glanced at Gwen. “Would you become a vampire if you had the chance?”
“No,” she answered immediately.
I nodded slowly.
“Would you?”
I stared out at the rainy, dark city as we drove through it. “I don’t know.”
 Chapter 33

I stood in the rain out front of the Ritz-Carlton, staring up at the extravagant building and the room
lights shining through the growing storm. Next to me, Gwen waited silently. She said nothing
about the rain or the wind and instead waited for me to be ready. A part of me hoped the girl
upstairs would look different somehow - more monstrous, easier to kill.
I could do this.
My sister was dead.
Abigail Ashburn was dead.
The girl in the room upstairs was not my sister.
My sister was dead.
Abigail Ashburn was dead.
I repeated the same mantra in my head over and over again as I led the way into the building. I
approached the reception desk confidently and immediately found acid burning in my throat. Gwen
stepped up, flashing her Runner badge, and asking for the key to Abigail’s room. The concierge
begrudgingly gave us a key, mumbling something about getting blood on the carpets as we walked
away. I fiddled with my dagger and waited for the elevator to take me and Gwen to the eleventh floor.
The girl upstairs was not my sister.
I was killing a monster.
The elevator dinged.
I shook myself from my trance, sucking in a breath. Gwen stepped out of the elevator first and I
was grateful for the guidance. She checked the room numbers, motioning for me to follow her eagerly.
There was bloodlust in her eyes, I recognized it because it matched my own. With each step I took,
anticipation beat through my soul, turning it red and lighting it on fire.
Gwen stopped in front of the door. I took the key card from her, flashing it over the door handle
and pushing the door open. A cold gust of air hit me in the face, all the lights were off. The sound of
childish crying echoed off the walls.
“I didn’t call for room service!”
Her voice was the same. It hit me like a bucket of ice water.
I steeled myself, stepping inside and flipping on the lights. There was a hiss of fury and then
Abigail stood in front of me.
My Runners were blind to not realize what she’d become. Ashburns had always been pale
because of our red hair, but Abigail looked as white as paper. Her shoulders slumped forward and
she wore a wrinkled nightgown. Her eyes were sunken in with dark circles like craters, lips chapped
and too red. She narrowed her eyes in hatred but there was no light in her pupils. She looked dead. I
wondered how long it had been since she showered; her hair was a ratty mess on top of her head and
there was dirt on her face.
“Heard you were looking for me.” I stepped forward. Gwen shut the door behind us. “Here I am. I
have to say, immortality does not look good on you.”
To my surprise, Abigail looked terrified. “Andrew said it would go away. He said the pain was
temporary.” She stared down at her hands, which looked skeletal. “Phoenix, there’s so much pain.”
I paused, sliding a blade into my hand. “Pain?”
She nodded quickly. With superhuman speed, she moved to turn off the light. I squinted, taking in
her small figure as she cowered in a corner. “He was supposed to help me. Now he’s dead,” she
cried, falling to her knees. “I’m so hungry, but I can’t. I don’t know how.” She hiccupped through a
few sobs, pulling on her lips frantically and then wrapping her arms around her own torso.
“She didn’t look like this yesterday,” Gwen said.
I gritted my teeth. My resolve was crumbling. The crying monster on the ground sounded an awful
lot like my little sister.
Abigail looked up suddenly, her eyes finding the blade hanging loosely in my hand. “Please, don’t
kill me.”
I swallowed.
“What do we do?” Gwen’s voice shook. She was just as disturbed by the starving vampire as I
was.
I didn’t understand how Abigail could look so monstrous and sound so broken. She sobbed
hysterically, babbling about the pain and the hunger, and begging me not to kill her. With each cry that
fell from her mouth, my heart broke a little bit more.
I was Phoenix Ashburn.
I could do this.
One little stake to the heart was all it would take and then this whole thing would be over.
I took a single step forward.
Then, I slipped the blade back in my belt. “Gwen, you need to go.”
“What, no,” she scoffed.
I looked at her. “I’m going to call someone to help her. You can’t be here when they get here.”
“I stay with my Lead Runner.”
“Even when your Lead Runner is choosing to save the vampire?” I snapped.
Gwen tucked her wire in her pocket and sheathed her blade. “Yes.”
Abigail’s voice raised to a childish scream as she begged us to let her live. I held up one hand to
Gwen, motioning for her to stay near me. New vampires were dangerous, volatile, even in their
weakest state and I didn’t know whether what was happening to Abigail was normal. I’d never read
or seen anything like it. She scratched at her gums, sobbing into her fingers about fire and pain. I
pulled out my phone, keeping one eye on Abigail and the other on Gwen as I held it up to my ear.
Dorian answered on the third ring. “Miss me already, Miss Ashburn?”
I sucked in a breath. “I’m racking up a bill of favors here, but I need your help.”
“Where are you?”
“The Ritz.”
“I’ll be right there.” He hung up.
 I placed my hand on my stomach in shock. He didn’t ask questions. He was on his way. I would
pay dearly for this favor.
“Who was that?” Gwen whispered.
I looked her in the eyes, unable to lie. “The Coven Master.” Immediately, she shook in terror. I
patted her shoulder. “He won’t touch you. I promise. He can help her.”
I turned back to the sobbing vampire on the floor. I unbuckled my belt, handing it to Gwen before
crossing the room. I didn’t want her to view me as a threat and lash out. I would not hurt her first, but
I wasn’t sure about what would happen if she attacked me.
“Abigail?” I said softly, a few feet away from her. She tore at her own face now, blood streaming
down her skin as she screamed. She cried about her hunger, but her fangs didn’t seem sharp. “Abigail,
I’m not going to hurt you.”
She froze, looking up at me. Right then, she looked more like a child than I’d ever seen her, wide
eyes and tears dripping down her bloody face. “You’re not?” Her voice cracked.
I shook my head, lowering myself to one knee in front of her. “I’m going to help you.”
She narrowed her eyes, looking me over, probably searching for weapons. Then, she nodded
slowly.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Instantly, she burst into hysterics again and I sat back on my heels as she scratched at the carpet
like a feral animal.
“Gwen, start a bath,” I said, keeping my voice even and my eyes on Abigail. Gwen moved around
us, keeping her distance. A moment later, I heard the water start.
I held out my hand to Abigail kindly, fighting the urge to wrap her in a hug and tell her I was going
to take care of her. I’d never been a very good sister to her. I was cold and distant. Right now, I
longed to be her sister. I wanted to hold her and take the pain away. Abigail looked down at my hand
in confusion, her eyes soft and desperate. I glanced down at my hand and nearly swore when I saw
what she did. A single drop of blood on my wrist that hadn’t washed off in the rain. I saw the idea in
Abigail’s before she realized she had it. She leapt forward, baring her teeth in desperation. I fell
backwards, landing hard on the floor, the wild vampire on top of me. She moved faster than I could
comprehend, clawing at my skin and avoiding my grasp.
“Phoenix!” Gwen called in terror.
“Don’t touch her,” I commanded as Abigail’s teeth sank into my shoulder. I was right, her fangs
weren’t sharp. They felt like human teeth. I could feel each one of them as she ripped and tore through
my flesh.
Gwen called my name again, softer this time.
Abigail yowled, falling backwards with my blood staining the front of her nightgown. I saw the
shadowed figure behind her and huffed out a breath of relief. Dorian had arrived. He stood over me
like an avenging angel, his hand wrapped around the back of Abigail’s neck. Beneath his strength, she
could do nothing. She flailed and snapped at him, desperate to get back to me and the blood pouring
down my arm. Dorian seemed unbothered.
“Shut the door,” he growled, his eyes flicking to Gwen.
She moved immediately.
I pushed myself to my feet, watching Abigail thrash and scream. Dorian looked annoyed, moving
and pushing her back into a chair. He grabbed her by her chin and she let out a cry of pain. I winced,
stopping myself from interfering.
“Enough,” Dorian snapped at Abigail.
 She shut her mouth.
“Shut up and sit still, or I’ll snap your spine in two,” Dorian hissed. “Do you understand?”
She opened her mouth to say something, and his grip must have tightened, because she closed her
lips with a whimper. Dorian stood straight, letting her go. She didn’t move, but she’d started crying
again.
“Who are you?” He looked at Gwen then, his eyes dark.
“Gwen,” she squeaked. Her eyes flicked to me and widened. “Oh, that’s a lot of blood.”
I looked down at my shoulder, blinking in realization at how much blood was leaking into my
shirt. Instead of neat fang marks, my skin had been torn through and butchered. The wound was
grotesque. When I turned to Dorian, his eyes had fixed on the wound for a moment. He cleared his
throat, looking away quickly. I sucked in a breath, licking my lips.
“Is there a first aid kit?” I asked Gwen. She retreated into the bathroom to look, glancing
nervously at the Coven Master again.
Dorian knelt in front of Abigail, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Did you turn
before or after Andrew died?”
“After.”
Dorian went still. “How?”
“There was a vial of blood,” she hiccupped. “It was for me. I was going to do it anyway.”
Dorian took a deep breath. I paused when he placed his hand on her cheek. “We’re going to get
you cleaned up. Touch either of these girls again, I’ll kill you before you can take another breath,
understood?”
Abigail sniffled, wrapping two arms around her stomach. “I’m so hungry.”
Dorian nodded. I swore there was sympathy on his face now. “I know. Bath first, okay?” I didn’t
like the look on his face when he stood. “Gwen, get her in the bath. I’m going to speak to Phoenix.”
Gwen’s eyes flicked to me and I nodded once, silently telling her it was alright. As soon as
Dorian moved away from Abigail, Gwen was helping her up, motioning to the bathroom and asking if
she wanted bubbles in her bath. Dorian watched them go before turning to look at me, his eyes darting
down to the wound on my shoulder before moving back to my face. His fists clenched at his sides.
“She’s going to die,” he said quietly, walking to stand in front of me.
“She’s already dead.”
Dorian shook his head. “No, Phoenix. She’s going to die and stay dead.”
It would have hurt less if he’d ripped my heart out. “What?”
“There’s a reason human scientists can’t use vampire blood to cure wounds, illnesses, cancer, or
try to evade death for themselves. Vampire blood only works for a few moments after it has been out
of the body - it cannot be stored.” Dorian almost looked sad as he looked at me.
“But it brought her back already.” My voice cracked.
He nodded. “It was only enough to reanimate her body, but not enough to make her immortal. Her
body is shutting down now.”
“No,” I whispered.
He kept talking, saying something about how her organs would stop functioning and she’d begin to
bleed out from the inside- but I wasn’t really listening. There was a white noise ringing in my ears
and, for the first time, I realized I was a failure. I failed Abigail. I’d come up here to kill a monster
and instead I found my little sister, the girl I’d left behind so many years ago. I couldn’t help her. I
couldn’t protect her.
I could do nothing.
 Dorian caught me before I fell, wrapping one arm around my waist. My head fell onto his
shoulder as I cried, clinging to the only thing I could, even if it was the Coven Master.
“We can make her comfortable or I can kill her now,” Dorian whispered, still holding me as I
struggled to breathe. “But she only has a few days left.”
I stood straight, trembling. “Days.”
“Yes.”
I sobbed once, looking up at him desperately. “Can we take her away from here?”
He inclined his chin.
“Please. I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” I begged.
If days were all Abigail had left, I’d take care of her until the moment she died like I should have
been doing all along.
Dorian reached up and I saw something like triumph in his eyes when he placed his cool hand on
my cheek. There was a long silence where I stood and waited for him to do something. Part of me
expected him to laugh. A dark part of me thought he’d lean forward and kiss me. Instead, he spoke.
“Send the Runner home.”
I swallowed thickly, wiping tears from my face and moving away from him. I walked into the
bathroom, where Gwen was helping Abigail into a bubble bath.
“Can you believe the size of this tub?” Abigail said quietly, looking up at me with wide eyes.
She sounded so human, so happy, like I remembered her before I left to be a Runner. My heart
broke in two. Days. I could give her days.
I wiped my tears. My voice came out slow and even. “I’ll take it from here, Gwen. Why don’t you
go home?”
Gwen looked up and her breath caught with the realization that I was commanding her to leave me
here with two vampires. Tears burned my eyes and I forced myself to stand straight. Gwen’s lips
parted and I knew she’d come to the same conclusion I had - this might be the last time we saw each
other. I’d known what I would risk asking for Dorian’s help - my own life. I held her gaze, daring her
to challenge me. Slowly, she nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to Abigail’s head. I walked over to
sit on the tub behind my sister. Abigail ran her hands through the water, weakly blowing bubbles
through the air.
“Can I wash your hair?” I asked.
She nodded.
I grabbed a brush off the counter, sitting on the edge of the tub. Slowly, piece by piece, I brushed
the tangles out of her hair. Hers wasn’t as red as mine, but it still burned softly in the dim bathroom
light. Abigail cried silently as I brushed. When I asked her what was wrong, she only pulled at her
lips and whispered that she was starving. Her mouth burned, her skin crawled, her muscles ached.
She was dying.
I was too late.
I wondered, if I’d been home yesterday, if that would have been enough time to save her. Maybe if
I hadn’t pushed her away when she was here days ago, if I hadn’t forced her hand, she wouldn’t have
been so desperate. Maybe if I hadn’t gone away all those years ago. I moved on to washing her hair,
silent tears streaming down my face as I did. Abigail didn’t notice, lifting bubbles through the air and
humming through her tears. Blood dripped onto the side of the tub from my wound, my tears blurred
my vision. Still, I washed her hair, slowly, deliberately.
“I’m sorry,” I told her suddenly. “I wasn’t a very good sister.”
She shrugged. “We wanted different things. I suppose we still do. I’m going to live forever,
Phoenix.”
My breath caught. “I know.” I wiped my own tears, biting down hard on my bottom lip - hard
enough to draw blood. “Whatever will you do with so much time?”
“Travel, first.” She nodded, humming into my hands massaging her head. “The cliches: Paris,
Rome, London, Dubai. I’d like to learn to play piano, how to paint, and krav maga.”
“That sounds great.”
“Your friend, can he help me?” Abigail whispered. I looked up to see Dorian lingering in the
doorway, out of Abigail’s line of sight. I thought he’d be disgusted by the tears streaming down my
face, but he only watched me solemnly. “Can he stop the pain?”
I sucked in a deep breath. “Yes. The pain is going to go away.”
“Good. This isn’t anything like Andrew described. He said it would be incredible.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but I couldn’t. Abigail coughed, and I watched blood
drip down onto her hands. She wiped them under the water like it was nothing and I struggled to keep
my breathing even. Abigail sighed, resting back against the tub, her eyes closed.
“We’re going to go somewhere safe.” I told her quietly, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I’m
going to take care of you.”
 Chapter 34

I felt like I’d sold my soul to the devil.

I sat on the floor of an enormous room that looked like it had never been slept in before
today. It was straight out of a Spanish castle - concrete walls, a colorful four-poster bed, a large
red carpet covered most of the room, and a stone fireplace. The more I saw of the Coven mansion, the
more I learned it was a kaleidoscope of rooms that took its guests on adventures through time. The
Coven Monarchs had lived through centuries; I wondered if any of the decor in these rooms meant
anything to them.
I watched Abigail sleep in the middle of the bed, her breathing deep and ragged. She’d fallen
asleep on the ride over here and hadn’t woken up yet - it had been hours. Next to me, a cup of tea had
gone cold. I was terrified that if I looked away from Abigail for even a moment, she wouldn’t be
breathing when I looked back.
I kept thinking about what I was going to tell our mother. I wondered if she knew what Abigail
had gotten herself into or that she was here in New York with me. Abigail and Mom had a stronger
relationship with each other than I’d ever had with either of them. I didn’t know how I was going to
tell her that her favorite daughter was dead. Surely, she’d rather lose me.
She was going to lose me too.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave, and I sucked in a deep breath. Tears dripped down my
face. I clutched my chest to keep my breathing even so I didn’t disturb Abigail. I’d told the Coven
Master I would do whatever he wanted.
I already knew what he wanted.
I wiped my face with a sniffle, resting my head against the wall. Still, tears stained my cheeks and
fell onto the bloody collar of my shirt. Dorian Sterling wanted me to be his Heir and I’d given him
power over me. I sniffled again as I reached for my tea. A sharp pain shot through the wound on my
shoulder, and I looked down to watch blood leak down my arm.
Pushing myself to my feet, I kept one eye on Abigail as I trudged across the tile floors to the
bathroom. A long, quiet cry of pain escaped me when I peeled my shirt off, setting it next to the sink
and turning the water on. I looked back at Abigail again, but she hadn’t moved. I grabbed a brown
hand towel, gritting my teeth as I ran it under the water. It hurt like hell on my swollen skin and blood
dripped onto the counter in seconds.
I heard the door click shut and stood straight, stepping out of the bathroom to watch Stella enter
the room. She was dressed in sweatpants and a tank top - a stark difference than what I was used to
seeing her in. Her eyes flicked to the wound on my shoulder, but I was surprised that her gaze did not
linger, and she did not seem interested in it. Still, she held a first-aid kit and offered me a soft smile. I
thought of the way she’d looked when she killed Finley - deadly, insane, a beautiful predator. Now,
she looked like a girl. It was strange.
“Need help?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded.
Stella walked into the bathroom, leaning close to inspect the wound on my shoulder. I watched her
grit her teeth once, but she seemed mostly unbothered by the blood caked on my skin. She glanced up
and must have noticed my confusion because she smirked. “I trained to be a surgeon during the world
wars, blood does not bother me like it does most.”
I hummed in response, digging my nails into my palms as she set to work cleaning out the bite
marks. I was taller than she was, so I sat on the edge of the bathtub and stared out the window while
she worked.
“Most of the bleeding has stopped and the wound is clean. You should go see Dorian to have it
healed, though. It could reopen and it’s going to hurt,” Stella said. I nodded without really listening.
She sighed, “I’m sorry about your sister.”
Then she was gone.
I returned to the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Abigail sleep. She looked
impossibly paler than she’d been before, dark circles forming under her eyes despite the rest. I took
her hand in mine and traced my thumb over her knuckles.
“I’m sorry too,” I whispered.

I WOKE up to the sound of Abigail crying.

I must have dozed off next to her, but was immediately awake and sitting up when I heard her soft
sobs. She was sitting up next to me, looking down at her hands. There was blood on them. I looked
around in alarm before realizing the blood was coming from her nose. Frantically, I leapt from the
bed and grabbed a towel from the bathroom. I pressed it into her hands, using one corner to wipe her
nose.
“It’s okay,” I told her, moving to sit behind her and hold her while she held the towel to her nose.
She trembled in my arms. When she lifted her head, more blood dripped onto the towel.
“It won’t stop,” she cried. “Phoenix, please help me.”
I rested my head against hers, rubbing her back. I didn’t know what to do. I felt helpless for the
first time in my life.
The door opened and I watched Dorian enter the room, narrowly avoiding a stream of sunlight
from the hallway. It was the middle of the day. He barely acknowledged me, instead walking forward
and setting a small bag on the bed in front of Abigail. My stomach flipped; it was a bag of blood.
She raised her head from the towel, blood streaming down her face as she looked down at it. Her
eyes widened considerably, and I let go of her shoulders when a low growl rumbled in her throat.
Dorian motioned for me to move away from her. I did, watching her reach for the bag. ripped it open
like an animal, spilling more of it than she drank. It splattered on the bed, and I grimaced as my sister
moaned, trying to push more and more blood into her mouth. Dorian cleared his throat next to me,
licking his lips. Abigail looked up at us then, wiping her face and smearing blood down her neck. Her
nose had stopped bleeding.
My sister opened her mouth to say something, but then her gaze settled on me. She licked her lips
hungrily. Next to me, Dorian leaned forward ever so slightly, clearly seeing exactly what I did.
Abigail leapt forward.
“Don’t hurt her,” I blurted right as the Coven Master stepped in front of the feral vampire. She
snarled at him, and I flinched when she raked her nails down his chest, ripping his black shirt and
spilling his blood. Instinctively, I reached for my dagger only to realize I was weaponless.
Dorian didn’t need my help, though. In seconds, he had Abigail by the chin and forced her to kneel
down in front of him. I winced when she cried out, sobbing like a child. “Mind your manners,” he
hissed, baring his fangs back at her. She yowled in fury, trying to strike him again.
Then she was quiet.
Abigail sat back, looking between Dorian and me with wide eyes. Her face went blank as if she
didn’t realize what had happened. She licked her lips and seemed surprised to find blood on her face.
Dorian sighed, still holding her jaw. “Stella,” he said in a normal voice.
She walked into the room a moment later, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Can you get Abigail showered and into fresh clothes?” Slowly, Dorian released my sister and
stood straight. My shoulders slumped in relief when Abigail didn’t come after him again. I was
terrified he’d hurt her. She looked so tiny and fragile and Dorian was full of power and strength. He
looked at me, then, blood droplets smeared on his face. “You are not allowed to be alone with her.”
“Excuse me?” I scoffed.
“She will rip your throat out the first chance she gets,” Dorian snapped.
“I will not!” Abigail sobbed.
“I can take care of myself.” I inclined my chin.
Dorian stepped forward, his eyes darkening. “Do not forget whose house you’re in, Miss
Ashburn.”
I crossed my arms, flinching at the pain in my shoulder.
“Phoenix is bleeding again,” Stella said. “Please get her out of here before anything else
happens.”
I looked down to watch blood leak down my arm. Dorian reached forward, grabbing me by my
arm and forcing me towards the door. Abigail called my name frantically. I turned towards her, only
for Dorian to shut the door behind us. My heart racing in panic, I tried to move around him. She was
my sister, she needed me to take care of her right now.
“Listen to me,” Dorian growled, squeezing my arm harder. “She has no control over her bloodlust
and it's only going to get worse as she gets sicker and weaker. She won’t care if you’re her sister, all
she cares about is blood. She will kill you.”
“I have to be with her,” I rasped, my lip quivering.
Dorian softened slightly. “Stella is going to clean her up. You need to stop bleeding before you go
back in there, then either Stella or I will stay with you.”
“How long does she have?” I looked at him.
“Two or three days before she bleeds out.”
My knees gave out.
 Chapter 35

“I imagine this must be very amusing for you,” I said quietly, pulling my knees up to my chest. I sat
on the bed in what I assumed was Dorian’s room. It was dark and felt like what I imagined a
vampire’s home to feel like - gothic, ominous. There was a candelabra on the nightstand and the
marble in the bathroom was black. The bed was adorned in red velvet, and I’d noticed the curtains on
the ceiling the instant I stepped into the room. I thought it might be his because it actually looked
lived-in. There was a book and a glass of what could have been wine or blood on a table by the door,
the bed was slightly unmade, and it smelled like smoke and blood in here.
“What is?” Dorian stepped out of the closet, buttoning a new shirt.
I shrugged. “The great Phoenix Ashburn is about to lose someone she loves.”
“I am not amused.”
“Except you’re getting everything you want.”
“Yes, I am.”
Dorian crossed the room to stand in front of me. I watched him move, my eyes lingering on the
blood staining the corner of his mouth. It had splattered on him when Abigail thrashed; he hadn’t
bothered to wipe it off. I couldn’t even muster up the energy to be disgusted. In fact, I felt nothing at
all - no anger, no fear. It was like my fire had burned out and left me with ashes. I wanted to go back
and sit with Abigail.
“Does your shoulder hurt?” Dorian asked.
“Yes.”
I watched while he dragged the pad of his thumb along his fangs. It came away bloody. He offered
it to me expectantly and I sighed.
“Why, so you can kill me?” I sat back.
“I’m not going to kill you.”
“Yet,” I sneered.
Dorian held up his hand closer to me impatiently. I stared at the bead of blood on his thumb.
Taking it would ease the pain in my shoulder and stop the wound from reopening. It would also make
it easier for Dorian to kill me. I knew making it out of this house alive was going to be a challenge,
but I was still going to try. I was here for Abigail. Once she was dead, I had two options. I could try
to run. Or I could try to kill Dorian. My odds of success were low either way.
With a grumble, I leaned forward to grab his wrist and close my mouth over the bead of blood
before it dripped onto the ground. Dorian hummed, stepping closer. Immediately, I felt relief as the
wound in my shoulder stitched itself closed. Dorian pulled his hand back, but didn’t move away from
me, instead brushing a strand of hair out of my face as I swallowed and sighed.
“You should rest,” he said softly. “You lost a lot of blood.”
I shook my head. “I want to go be with Abigail.”
“Have you studied vampires like these? Do they teach this in school?”
“No,” I admitted.
Dorian sat on the edge of the bed next to me. His eyes burned into mine while he spoke. “Her
organs are liquidating. It’s not painful for her yet, but it will be. She will begin to bleed from
anywhere the blood can escape and it won’t stop. The pain will drive her mad. She will forget who
she is, where she is, who you are - the only thing she will know is pain and bloodlust.”
“And she only has days?” My voice trembled. Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to be strong. I
wanted to be brave. I wanted to be the Phoenix Ashburn the world knew me to be. Instead, I crumbled
fast and hard.
Dorian nodded. “Two, maybe three, but probably only one where she’s coherent.”
I wasn’t sure what I was thinking when I moved forward. Maybe I’d had enough of being afraid,
or maybe I resigned myself to my fate. Perhaps I longed to feel some sort of control. Possibly, I was
trying to avoid more tears burning my face. I didn’t know. Still, I kissed the Coven Master with every
ounce of rage and desperation I had left in me.
I was even more surprised when he kissed me back.
Dorian’s mouth moved against mine in perfect synchrony. I leaned up into him, tracing my tongue
over his and suppressing a moan upon discovering he tasted like whisky. I kissed him and let the
world and all of my pain melt away. Our movements were slow and gentle at first; my hands fluttered
at my sides, unsure whether to grab him or not. Dorian’s cool hand brushed against my bare side and
suddenly I was acutely aware I was only wearing a sports bra. He pulled me down so I fell against
the pillows. Dorian nestled himself between my thighs, deepening our kiss with a growl. Bravely, I
reached up and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, still kissing him hungrily.
“Tell me to stop,” Dorian whispered, pulling his mouth from mine and nipping at my jaw. His
tongue danced along the side of my neck, and I leaned backwards, panting beneath his heated touch. I
said nothing as he ran his mouth down and tongued my collarbone, one of his hands squeezing my hip
and rocking me against him subtly. I undid another button on his shirt, whining when he kissed me
again. “Tell me to stop,” Dorian repeated, his lips against mine, “or I swear I’ll make you scream my
name.”
The world spun around me. There was nothing I wanted more in that instant. I surged upward,
gripping both sides of his face and kissing him harder. I straddled Dorian’s lap, reaching down to
undo the rest of his shirt and shove it over his shoulders. His skin felt almost cold against mine and I
pressed myself against him with a sigh. Dorian moaned into my kiss when I rocked my hips against
his, feeling him harden beneath me. I thought of how it had felt to be beneath him last time and lost my
mind.
Dorian Sterling made me feel alive.
He made me afraid. He challenged me to find new facets of myself I’d never considered before.
Because of him, I wanted more - from myself, my career, my life. I was terrified of him and would
never trust him, even for a moment. Someday, one of us would kill the other. Right now, though, he
cooled the fire of my skin and gave me a breath of fresh air.
I pulled back to tug my bra over my head, gasping when Dorian leaned forward and took one of
my breasts in his mouth, licking and sucking on my nipple. He kneaded the other with his hand. I
watched his tongue trace over my skin. Goosebumps scattered over my skin at a glimpse of his fangs.
While he kissed me, I rolled my hips against his, listening to him groan.
Dorian lifted me off his lap, standing up to unbutton his jeans with a devious grin. I watched him
undress, my eyes taking in his body desperately. Naked, he moved forward and pushed me back so I
was laying on the mattress. With inhuman speed, he pulled off my shoes and pants. A low growl
escaped his mouth as he looked down at me, his hands lingering on my thighs. Slowly, deliberately, he
stepped forward, pressing his bare hips against mine as his hand closed over my throat. I whined,
rocking myself against his length. I longed for him to touch me more, to move faster.
He hummed, smirking as I writhed beneath his touch. His lips brushed mine when he leaned
forward, pushing his hips harder against mine. “I can’t decide whether to make you beg or bleed,”
Dorian whispered, his hand tightening around my throat.
“I do not beg.”
Slowly, his lips spread in a smile, revealing his razor-sharp fangs. My stomach flipped in
anticipation, my breath catching in my throat. “Fine.” Dorian kissed me slowly. His hand left my
throat and I lay still as he trailed his mouth down to my chest, then my stomach. He licked over my
torso, groaning softly when he kissed my thighs. “I’m happy to make you bleed.”
His fangs sank into my thigh. I cried out in pain and surprise, sitting up slightly and watching him
bite down harder. For half a second, I wanted to push him away in disgust. Then, the pain faded into
something else… something unexpected and pleasurable. Dorian’s eyes flicked up to meet mine. I felt
his tongue running over my skin, coaxing more blood from the wound he’d made. He pulled back and
I watched blood leak down the side of my leg curiously.
Dorian’s tongue found my center and I fell back onto the sheets with a moan of delight. I still felt
the sting of the wound he’d inflicted, but now it was coupled with the ecstasy of his mouth on the most
sensitive part of me, licking and sucking like I was the sweetest dessert he’d ever tasted. I gripped the
sheets to gain my bearings, rocking up to meet each stroke of his tongue with desperation. Dorian’s
hands slid up and down my legs rhythmically, guiding me with his movements and smearing blood
over my skin. He groaned into me, sending vibrations through my body. My cry echoed through the
room. Dorian spread my legs wider, pushing one ringed finger, then two inside of me, using his other
hand to hold me still while he worked his tongue.
Heat coiled in my stomach as he sucked and pumped his fingers in and out, slowly at first, then
harder as my cries grew louder. His mouth left my center and I felt pain in my thigh again, but was too
busy to look up and watch him bite down. His moan echoed mine, his fingers thrusting up to meet the
rocking of my hips. When his tongue returned to my core, I felt the heat grow into a fire and spill over
the edge. My whole body shook with my release and Dorian kept moving until I was a trembling mess
beneath his tongue, biting on my own hand to keep from sobbing.
He stood slowly. Blood dripped down his lips and chest, his fangs glinting in the dim light as he
pulled me from where I lay. I fell to my knees in front of him with a long whine. My eyes fluttered in
the aftermath of my orgasm, and I placed both hands on his hips to gain my bearings. Slowly, I opened
my mouth and stuck out my tongue, waiting.
“Who would have thought?” Dorian stepped forward, resting the tip of his length against my
tongue. I took it in my mouth, swirling my tongue over it obediently before moving forward to take
him further. “The great Phoenix Ashburn on her knees for me.”
I ignored him, sliding my mouth up and down his length, feeling saliva drip down my chin. Dorian
groaned, his hands flexing at his sides. I glanced up to meet his gaze. He watched me intently, his eyes
dark and mouth bloody. I wanted to kiss him again, to taste myself on his tongue in more ways than
one.
Dorian’s hand looped through my hair to hold me still. I sucked in a deep breath, nodding once
and giving him permission for what I already knew he wanted to do. Slowly, he took over the
movements of my mouth, thrusting himself in and out. I stuck out my tongue, dragging it along the
bottom of his length and relishing in the sound of his groan. His grip tightened and he thrusted harder,
rubbing against the back of my throat. I slipped my hand down between my legs while Dorian had his
way with my mouth, rubbing circles over myself and trembling in pleasure. I moaned into his
movements. I wanted more from him. I wanted him to take what he wanted from me.
I never wanted him to stop.
He pulled back a moment later, letting me gasp for air. A tear ran down my cheek and he wiped it
away, his eyes searching mine to make sure I was okay. I stood slowly, tracing my fingers through the
blood on his chest - my blood. When I kissed him again, blood smeared over my mouth and chin.
Still, I ran my tongue over his and pulled him closer. Dorian pushed me to lay back on the bed,
keeping my hips on the edge.
“Look at you,” he said, rubbing his length against my entrance, slick with saliva and blood,
“bleeding so prettily for me.”
“Do it,” I growled, pushing against him desperately. “Make me scream.”
His eyes flashed with delight, and he pushed into me hard and fast. I yelled in delight, letting my
head fall back on the mattress as Dorian’s hips pounded into mine. The bite marks on my thighs
burned with the friction, but I didn’t care. All I felt was Dorian. He was everywhere all at once and I
couldn’t imagine him being anywhere else but inside of me. He pinned my hands at my sides, holding
me completely still. I tugged against his grip, desperate to meet his thrusts with my own. I was
entirely at his mercy.
My cries grew louder, laced with frustration. Dorian grabbed both of my wrists in one of his
hands and leaned forward to pin them above my head. We both gasped at the change in angle as he
rocked into me, grinding instead of thrusting now. I whined when his hand moved between us, finding
the sensitive bundle between my legs and rubbing hard.
“Oh, god,” I breathed.
“Look at me,” Dorian hissed.
I forced myself to keep my eyes open and look up at him. I could not move, even if I tried, but I
didn’t want to. Dorian was touching me in all the right ways and I found my whole world was on the
brink of something wonderful. He thrusted harder, his fingers twisting to match the pace of his hips.
His mouth was inches from mine, his eyes locked with mine as I climbed closer and closer to my
release. My mouth fell open in a silent cry and Dorian kissed it away.
“Mine,” he whispered against my mouth. “Say you’re mine and I’ll let you come.”
I yelped when his hand moved away from my center. “I’m yours,” I gasped without hesitation.
As soon as he touched me again, I came undone.
Dorian held me through his own orgasm, pounding into me until he couldn’t anymore. I shook as
he leaned on me, gasping for breath. Slowly, he sat up, brushing hair out of my face. “My Runner,” he
breathed, “my Heir.”
I inclined my chin, blinking slowly.
Dorian pulled away from me with a groan. I gasped softly, feeling the ache in my body. I rubbed
my wrists as I sat up, noticing they were already bruising. I hadn’t realized he’d held me so hard. I
opened my mouth to tell him to be more careful, but never had the chance to say anything because of
the scream that echoed from down the hall.
 Chapter 36

I leapt up, ignoring my aching body and the blood leaking down my legs. I pulled on my pants and
snatched Dorian’s shirt before he could - he had a whole closet of them anyway. I rushed out the
door with the shirt half buttoned, racing down the hall to Abigail’s room, where the scream had
come from.
I burst through the door, unsure whether to expect a fight, and came face-to-face with a nightmare.
Abigail sat in the middle of the floor, her face streaked with blood. She screamed in terror, but it
came out with a gurgling noise as blood leaked out of her mouth, nose, and eyes. Stella sat behind her,
one arm around my sister protectively. She looked up in concern as Dorian and I entered the room.
“I can’t see,” Abigail screamed, writhing in Stella’s grip. “Help me, I can’t see anything!”
“She was asleep,” Stella said calmly, holding Abigail against her chest. “Then she started
bleeding and woke up when she couldn’t breathe.”
I thought I might be sick or faint. It didn’t even seem like Abigail knew I was here - she kept
screaming, more and blood pouring from her mouth. I took a horrified step back, colliding with
Dorian. He caught my arm carefully and I swallowed, leaning into him for a moment. I let myself
listen to his heartbeat, slower than a human’s, but rhythmic and reassuring as I watched my sister
suffer.
“Where’s my belt?” I croaked.
Stella looked up in shock and pity. Frustrated, I wiped tears from my face, straightening. I turned
to look at Dorian, who still had my blood smeared on his face.
“I can’t watch this. I can’t let her suffer,” I breathed.
He nodded once, releasing me. “I’ll be right back.”
I clutched my chest, watching Abigail dissolve into whimpers. She pulled her knees to her chest
and Stella shushed her, brushing her hair out of her face. I stood frozen in time. I didn’t know whether
I had the strength to do this. I watched Stella lift Abigail off the ground, carrying her to the bed and
laying her back on the pillows.
“Abigail, can you hear me?” Stella said quietly.
Abigail nodded.
“Phoenix is here to sit with you for a little while.” Stella’s voice cracked and I felt my soul break
into fragments when she looked up at me. For the first time, it seemed like the Coven Successor cared
about what happened. She looked younger somehow, burdened by sadness. Abigail nodded again,
whimpering softly.
I forced myself to walk forward and crawl onto the bed next to Abigail. She rolled towards me
instinctively, resting her head on my lap. Desperately, I tried to control my own trembling, reaching
forward to brush my fingers through her hair.
Dorian returned then, his hand behind his back. He walked around the side of the bed until he was
sure Abigail couldn’t see him. My stomach soured when he held the stake out to me. Slowly, I closed
my hand around it and tucked it under my thigh. I nodded to him and wiped tears again. A moment
later, he and Stella were gone, and I was alone with my sister for the last time.
“Abigail,” I whispered. She hummed in response. “What’s your favorite color?”
In her last moments, I wanted Abigail to know I cared about her. I wanted to be able to remember
the littlest things about her and tell stories long after she was gone. I kept brushing my fingers through
her long hair and ignored my tears.
“It’s purple,” she rasped. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down a little bit, but her voice
was moist and pained. “What’s yours?”
“Red.”
She made a noise that might have been a laugh. “Of course.” She was quiet for a moment before
she asked. “Who are they - Dorian and Stella?”
I swallowed, unsure whether to lie to her or not. I didn’t want her to be afraid. “I work for them
sometimes,” I whispered.
“Isn’t that against your oath?”
I laughed once, nodding. “Yeah, it is.” The room was blurry through my tears, but I kept talking.
“I’ve done a lot of terrible things, Abigail. Breaking my oath is the least of them.” I’d lied. I’d let
people die, sacrificed my own Runners for my personal gain. I laid in the bed of my enemy and
wished he’d never let me leave. I’d sold my soul to become the thing I hated the most. I’d killed
thousands of vampires.
Thousands of souls were gone because of me alone. I hated to think of whether they’d been as
scared in their final moments as Abigail was. I fiddled with the golden ring on my finger, stolen from
Rhys Montagne, and suddenly felt disgusted that I wore it as a trophy.
“I’ve done terrible things too,” Abigail rasped. “One time I cut in line at the self-checkout.” It
took me a moment to realize she was joking and I could only manage a weak laugh in response. She
sighed, “Phoenix, am I dying?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, suppressing a whimper. “Yes, Abby, you’re dying.”
“I thought so.”
I bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming.
“What will you tell Mom?”
“What do you want me to tell her?” I used the cuff of my sleeve to wipe blood off of her face.
“Lie to her,” Abigail whispered. “Tell her I ran off with Andrew and you never saw me here. Let
her think I’m a vampire, off living my life.”
“Okay.”
There was a long silence and her breathing deepened with sleep. I kept brushing her hair, silently
holding onto every word she had said. My tears burned my face and I sniffled softly. With one hand, I
pulled the stake out from where I’d hidden it. My whole body trembled like an earthquake as I looked
between the deadly weapon and my delicate sister. Small gurgles fell from her mouth, I could feel
blood soaking into my pants. I twisted the stake in my hand and brushed her hair out of the way.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t a better sister,” I said, breaking into a thousand pieces as I pressed the tip of
the stake to her back. “God, I’m so sorry.”
I shoved the stake forward.
Abigail let out a small gasp of surprise and there was a crack as the weapon broke through her
ribs. Then everything was quiet. I refused to look at her, feeling her skin gray and wither beneath my
touch. Sobs racked my chest. I found myself desperate for a heart that didn’t beat anymore - anything
to take the pain away.
Finally, I screamed.
 Chapter 37

W hite noise rang in my ears hours later as I stared at the wall. I was in a quaint, modern
bedroom, alone. I wore a black nightgown, which was really more of a slip, and my wet
hair hung over my shoulders. My eyes burned, but at last the tears had run dry.
I killed my own sister. I took her life away.
I didn’t understand how it was possible that she was the same little girl I grew up with. Her
voice, her eyes, her dreamy look as she blew bubbles out of the bath. It was the same sister I
remembered, the one I loved so dearly before I left her behind. Shouldn’t she have been a monster?
Weren’t they all monsters?
“Vampires have families too- fathers, daughters, lovers. Each one of them has their own
personality, their own money, their own life. We eat, sleep, drink, and fuck just like humans.”
I remembered what Dorian had told me when he accused me of being a killer. For the first time, I
wondered if maybe he was right. What if each of them was as scared as my sister had been? How
many of them wanted to travel, see the world, and enjoy their immortality? How many of them had
lovers or families?
And I’d killed thousands of them.
Thousands.
The room spun around me. I stumbled out of the bed to the bathroom attached to my room, barely
making it to the toilet before I was sick. Sobbing softly, I flushed the toilet and walked to the sink,
brushing my teeth vigorously.
There was a knock on the door.
“It’s open,” I mumbled.
It was Dorian.
He looked exhausted. His black shirt was wrinkled. Most of all, though, there was concern in his
eyes as he looked at me. He lingered in the doorway. “The sun is up, I wanted to check on you before
I went to bed.”
Instinctively, I reached up, pulling the curtains closed even more, eliminating the small sliver of
sunlight that stretched across the floor. Dorian tensed for a moment, then nodded in appreciation.
“I’m fine,” I sighed. He nodded, turning to leave, but I spoke before he did. “Can I ask you
something?” Dorian paused. “Why me?”
 He knew immediately what I was referring to - the Coven Heir contract. Slowly, he closed the
door and I watched him hesitantly as he crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed - the side
farthest from me.
“Because I like your spark.”
“That’s a bullshit answer.”
“Because I think you’re strong enough to handle it. I think it’s poetic, the Runner becoming the
thing she hates the most, and I’m sadistic. Is that a better answer?” His eyes burned into mine. His
words were unbelievably harsh, but at least they were true.
I looked down, fiddling with the gold and emerald ring I wore constantly. I’d stolen it from Rhys
Montagne the night I killed him. It hadn’t occurred to me that Dorian had seen it each time we were
together. Slowly, I took it off and set it on the duvet between us. “What was Rhys like?”
“Rhys was an idiot.” Dorian reached for the ring, twisting it slowly between his fingers. “But a
rich one.”
“And the Heirs before him? Why are they so expendable?” I leaned back against the pillows, my
head pounding. In the eight hundred years Dorian had been Coven Master, there had been six Heirs.
“Because in the past, I’ve had Heirs for their assets- money, land, anything. I never cared whether
they lived or died, so I let them die. Stella remains my Successor because she’s dangerous, but level-
headed. She compliments my rule and runs this Coven very well.” Dorian was still watching me
intently. “I want an Heir who can do the same.”
“And you think it’s me?”
He nodded once.
I shook my head, sighing. “Do you really trust me?”
Dorian looked amused. “Of course not.”
I couldn’t help it, I smiled.
Dorian stood and I watched him cautiously as he walked around the bed, setting the Coven ring
down in front of me. I glanced at the matching one on his hand, shivering when I thought about what
his rings felt like on my skin. It was the only gold one he wore, stark against the silver of the others.
As I reached for the ring, Dorian stepped forward, tilting my chin up to look at him.
“I could give you everything,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. My breath
caught.
I looked up at him, blinking slowly. Dorian brushed his fingers along my jaw daintily, and he
hummed. My eyes fluttered at the cool sensation of his skin against mine.
“You know how this ends, right?” Dorian brushed my hair back out of my face.
I nodded.
One of us was going to end up dead.
Hesitantly, I stood up in front of him, my body brushing against his. “Not today, though, right?”
“No.”
I kissed him.
Dorian responded immediately, pulling me against him. His hands gripped my hips roughly in the
same instant his tongue pushed past my lips. The slip I wore slid up over my thighs easily and Dorian
lifted me onto the bed, kissing over my jaw and neck as he stepped between my thighs. I noticed the
taste of blood on his mouth, but surprisingly wasn’t disgusted by it. I kissed him harder, running my
hands down his chest. I gripped his shirt, pulling him closer with a desperate whine. My fingers
worked quickly to undo the buttons of his shirt; Dorian shrugged out of it easily.
His hands slid beneath my slip, ghosting over my skin and sending goosebumps down my spine. I
leaned into him further, desperate for him to touch me harder, faster, to make me beg for it. I’d never
had to beg before, but this man made me want it.
“I don’t like to be teased,” I growled.
Dorian stuck his bottom lip out in a fake pout. “How unfortunate for you. I enjoy watching you
squirm.”
He kissed me again, full of the desperation I longed for. One hand wrapped around my throat,
holding me still but not squeezing as the other slipped between my legs. His mouth muffled my cry of
delight as he traced his fingers over the most sensitive spot on my body, sending waves of pleasure
through me. My eyes widened when he pulled back to drag his tongue along his middle finger, slowly,
deliciously. Then his hand was back between my legs, his finger pushing inside of me.
Dorian groaned, kissing me again. “So wet for me,” he whispered against my mouth.
I trembled in delight, my moans falling into his mouth as his hand stroked me just right. He pulled
his lips from mine, holding me perfectly still as he pushed in and out of me. His eyes glowed with lust
as he watched me cry out beneath his touch, heat building in my stomach.
He pulled away.
I sobbed at the lack of contact, whining. Dorian stepped back, kicking off his shoes and undoing
his belt.
“On your knees,” he hissed.
I smirked. “Yes, Master.”
Dorian gritted his teeth, growling as I obeyed him, sliding from the bed to kneel on the floor in
front of him. I watched him catch his breath after my words, enjoying the sight of him struggling to
maintain his composure. He stepped out of his pants, suddenly naked in front of me. I tilted my head
up to look at him and opened my mouth with my tongue out.
The Coven Master stepped forward and then I only had to open my mouth for him to brush his
length against my lips. I traced my tongue over the tip, watching his reaction as I closed my mouth
over him- slowly, deliberately, only taking part of him in my mouth. Dorian’s hands fluttered at his
sides, conflicted on whether to grab me or let me do what I wished. I slid my mouth further down, as
far as I could go, dragging my tongue along the underside as I moved back.
Finally, Dorian reached forward, his hand lacing in my hair. I paused my own movements, looking
up at him with a small nod. He could do whatever he wanted to me, and I would quiver in desire for
him. His thrusts were slow and gentle at first, letting me breathe and adjust so it was comfortable. I
kept my tongue out, licking along his length as best as I could.
Small gasps and groans escaped Dorian’s mouth, a symphony in my ears. Keeping my eyes on
him, I slipped my hand between my legs, tracing over where I was wet and throbbing. A small whine
escaped my mouth, and Dorian’s hand tightened in my hair. His thrusts came harder and faster as he
held me still, hitting the back of my throat. Tears burned my eyes, and I gagged, but he didn’t let up. I
didn’t want him to.
I’d never been more turned on than I was right then.
I rubbed hot circles over my center, my moans drowned and broken by Dorian’s thrusts. God, I
was going to come with him in my mouth. Dorian tilted my chin up a little higher, nodding in approval
as he held me there. His thumb rubbed gentle circles at the base of my neck, a stark difference from
his rough thrusts into my mouth. Heat rose in my stomach, winding tighter and tighter as I touched
myself.
“Come for me,” he demanded.
I did.
 Dorian didn’t pause, continuing to fuck my mouth as my orgasm rolled over me in waves. I fell
back against the side of the bed, and he only stepped forward, holding me still as I came. Finally, he
pulled back, reaching down to pull me to my feet and crash his mouth against mine.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered against my lips.
Oh.
I liked the sound of that. Dorian helped me up onto the bed, crawling onto it after me, his mouth
barely leaving mine. I lay back against the pillows, still dazed. Dorian kissed up my torso, dragging
his tongue along my breasts. I gasped in shock, when his fangs brushed along my collarbone, drawing
small beads of blood.
“Sorry.” He sat up slightly, staring down at the marks with wide, curious eyes.
I reached up, grabbing him by his hair and guiding him back down to my chest. His moan echoed
through the room as he licked the blood off of the wounds he’d made, lifting me up to pull the
nightgown off.
“You owe me blood,” he murmured as he kissed my jaw.
“So take it,” I said without thinking, my breath catching.
He moved closer, his hips pressing against mine. He pushed into me slowly, deliciously, rocking
his hips against mine. I gasped at each movement, rolling mine to meet each thrust. Dorian boosted
himself up on both hands to look down at me. “You’re sure?”
My eyes dropped to his mouth, and the fangs barely concealed by his parted lips. “Oh, yes,” I
breathed.
He seemed surprised, but moved back down to kiss me anyway. His thrusts slowed to long and
hard, I could feel every inch of him inside of me, filling me to the brim. My eyes rolled back as he
kissed my jaw, then my neck, his tongue tracing over my skin. Dorian grabbed my free hand, moving it
between my legs, coaxing me to touch myself. I did, whining at the sensitivity.
He bit down.
My cry of surprise echoed through the room, but it only hurt for a moment. Then it was…
incredible. I could feel Dorian’s tongue on my throat and blood leaking down my skin. His thrusts
never faltered, and he clung to me like I was the only person left on this earth. I felt adored, wanted,
and powerful. I kept touching myself between us, feeling the knot twist in my stomach again. Dorian
groaned deeply before pulling back, like it took all of his effort to let me go. Blood stained his lips,
leaking down his chin as he looked down at me.
“Mine,” he whispered.
I nodded, unable to answer as he sped up his thrusts.
“Say it, Phoenix,” he snapped, fucking me harder. I looked at him, sure I’d never seen anything as
attractive as him. He looked like a god of sex and death, lust in his eyes and blood on his mouth.
And I belonged to him.
“Yours,” I cried as I came.
 Chapter 38

D orian was still asleep.

He slept with his back turned to me, revealing the forty-five tally marks tattooed down
his spine. His breaths came deep and even, and my eyes trailed to the nail marks I’d left
down his back with a deep blush. My whole body still shook in the aftermath of being beneath him
and my hand ran up to trace the sensitive bite marks on my neck. Instead of being a full set of teeth, it
was only two small incisions, easily covered by my shirt.
I turned my head to look out the window, where the last rays of sunlight were disappearing. I had
to face my Runners sometime; I wondered if Gwen told them about Dorian or if they knew where I
was. I needed to call Mom and tell her about Abigail. She’d blame me for it and be utterly
heartbroken - but she deserved to know the truth.
My body ached in protest as I pushed the blanket off, sitting up. I’d fallen asleep for a little while
after the last round of sex, but I hadn’t gotten nearly enough rest. I bit down on my bottom lip to hide a
whine of pain, glancing over at Dorian, who hadn’t moved. I kept one eye on him while I dressed,
pulling the thin slip over my shoulders. There were a few bruises on my wrists and hips from being
held down - the bite marks on the insides of my thighs chafed when I walked. Still barefoot, I limped
to the bathroom, leaning forward to inspect the two small marks Dorian had made, blushing brightly
as I thought of the way he’d moaned as he clung to me.
“Going somewhere?”
I jumped, slamming my hand on the counter when Dorian appeared in the doorway. He was still
completely naked, and it took every ounce of my willpower to keep my eyes on his face.
“Home,” I said evenly.
He hummed in amusement, leaning in the doorway. “I have a job for you tonight.”
I huffed out a long breath. “Sterling, my Runners are going to have my throat.”
A smirk played on his lips. “Sterling? I liked it better when you called me Master.”
I ignored the shiver that ran through me, looking away from him as I raked my nails through my
hair. Dorian moved across the bathroom, catching my arm before I could step away from him. Still, I
kept my eyes up on his face, avoiding the mirror - where I could see every inch of him.
God, he was gorgeous.
Every muscle in his body was perfectly chiseled, his skin an even shade of ivory. The tattoos
stretched down his back were the only markings, save for a scar across his hip. I paused in surprise; I
didn’t know vampires could be scarred. My eyes dropped a little lower than his hips and I raised an
eyebrow.
He tapped my jaw, bringing my attention back to his face. I think I turned a thousand shades of
pink, watching him drag the pad of his thumb across his fangs. Silently, he offered me the bead of
blood and I didn’t hesitate to move forward and close my mouth over his thumb. Dorian stepped
closer, his hand lacing through my hair, holding me still. My eyes widened and I pulled back to look
at him in concern.
“That’s all it takes,” he whispered. “If I snapped your neck right now, you’d be a vampire for
eternity.”
“You won’t.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re waiting for something.” I yanked back, licking my lips. My bruises tingled as they healed.
“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to kill me, and you haven’t. What are you waiting for?”
“For you to beg for it,” he growled.
“Never going to happen.”
“Just wait, Phoenix.”
I stepped around him. “Where’s Stella? I need a new shirt. Put some damn pants on.” I snapped as
I pulled on my boots and stormed out of the room.
Stella was already in the hallway, amusement on her face. To my surprise, she wore a plain black
floor-length dress tonight. I’d grown used to seeing her in bright colors. Her hair hung in waves over
her shoulders and she barely wore makeup - yet she was the most ethereal person I’d ever seen. “Are
my lovebirds fighting?”
I ignored her comment. “I need a shirt.”
“You need an outfit,” she corrected me. “This is going to be a fun one.”
“Where are we going?” I huffed.
“Ever been to the opera?” Stella’s eyes glittered. “Better yet, ever killed the star of the show?”
My heart raced, though it was a different gallop than I was used to. I should have felt exhilarated
at the glamour of the kill. This was the kind of challenge I wanted, the one the Coven needed me for. I
was the best Runner in the world, I could do this.
So why was I scared?
Stella motioned for me to follow her, sauntering down the long hallway. She pushed open a set of
double doors, revealing a room straight out of Versailles. I followed her hesitantly, my eyes wide as I
took in the gilded room. One wall was made entirely of mirrors, the other was all windows. The
ceiling was painted ornately and each step I took into the room felt like I was moving further from
reality.
“The best years of my life were spent at Versailles,” Stella said, disappearing into the closet.
“Maybe it seems to others like I’m reliving the past, but I feel that’s an acceptable thing to do when
you’ve been alive for two thousand years.”
I choked on my own saliva. “You’re two thousand years old?”
She poked her head out of the closet with a grin. “I know, I look amazing.” I couldn’t help but
laugh, subconsciously reminding myself that Stella was as sadistic as the rest of them, even if she
seemed joyous and frivolous. She reemerged a moment later with a dark green gown, handing it to
me. “Change. I’ll get shoes, and a curling iron.”
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to go home.
 I couldn’t do this.
Even so, I nodded and smiled, taking the dress from Stella. Self-conscious, I closed the door to
the room, stripping down and changing awkwardly into the heavy gown. I paused, though, when I saw
my reflection in the mirror. It looked nice. I looked pretty - like I belonged in this golden palace.
Stella pressed a pair of heels into my hands, disappearing into the bathroom.
“Dorian says you know why you’re here now,” she chatted as she herded me into her bathroom,
which was almost as magnificent as her bedroom. I eyed the huge marble bathtub, wondering how
nice a bath would be in there. “You’re going to be the next Heir.”
I swallowed. “I’m not, though.”
She snorted, sitting me on a stool like I was her doll. I stared at her in the mirror as she brushed
through my hair. “You will be. Dorian always gets what he wants. He’s a bit like a child.”
I sucked in my breath. “Unless I kill him first.”
Stella grinned. “I like you.”
I tried to hide my annoyance. She wasn’t taking me seriously. I didn't want to be the Heir, I wanted
to be Phoenix Ashburn. I already had everything I'd ever wanted: fame, glory, my name in lights. I
was the Lead Runner in the best team in the world. I protected people, I kept them safe. What more
would I ever need?
I was Phoenix fucking Ashburn.
Except Dorian Sterling claimed he could offer me everything. Maybe he could. Maybe, with his
money, I could travel the world, buy a dozen houses and spend a month in each of them. I could live
forever, be invincible. But I wouldn't be Phoenix anymore, only a shell if the person I’d worked so
hard to become.
Dorian was right. The only way this would end was with one of us dead. I did not intend for it to
be me.
I sat still while Stella curled my hair, watching my own sad expression in the mirror, wondering
what kind of monster it would make me if I survived this. My Runners were losing trust in me,
perhaps they already had. My sister was dead. Finley was dead.
Dorian Sterling would be dead.
Would I be a monster?
Was I already a monster?
I kept thinking about what Dorian said about me being a killer. I had never considered it before. I
had always seen vampires as demons and never stopped to consider otherwise. They killed innocent
people. They took children from their mothers. They drank blood to survive. I grew up seeing stories
of murder and mayhem and I convinced myself I knew who the monsters were.
It never occurred to me that ridding the world of monsters might make me one too.
I thought of Abigail's face as she screamed and cried and begged for the pain to go away. I had
never seen such humanity on a vampire’s face. Had I not been paying attention?
Little by little, Stella transformed me into only an echo of the Phoenix Ashburn anyone would
recognize. My thoughts of life and death faded as I became a princess in the mirror. I had never been
to the opera before and I had never considered it to be such a fabulous event. I looked beautiful. I
looked deadly. I looked like I belonged next to Stella Khatri.
When I was finally ready, Stella led the way out of her magical room and down the stairs to the
foyer. I was not surprised to see Dorian waiting by the door dressed in all black. He handed me my
weapons belt, though it would not work with the dress. Instead, I strapped a dagger to one leg and a
stake to the other. As I did so, I avoided the dark and lustful look on the Coven Master’s face.
 Stella led the way out the door.

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, before I ever wanted to be a Runner, my mother would take me and Abigail to
see The Nutcracker every Christmas. I never thought much of it because I didn't have the patience to
sit in an auditorium for several hours and watch people dance and sing on stage. I had the same
sentiment tonight. People stared as I entered the lobby with Dorian and Stella; I wondered how many
of them knew who I was. It was clear to me who was a vampire and who was a human - the vampires
stared at me longer. I was a threat to them. Good, I would hold onto that feeling until my dying breath.
Blood would be spilled tonight.
I found myself walking closer to Stella, linking my arm through hers as we wound through the
crowds. Images continue to flash in my mind of what it felt like to have Dorian's mouth on my neck,
my face, my chest, and in between my legs. It was distracting. It couldn't happen again. After tonight, I
would find a way to return to my Runners and I would begin to plot the death of the Coven Master. I
did not want to play this game anymore.
I’d lost too much already.
We settled into our private box and Stella mentioned something about going to mingle and meet
other Coven members.
I was left alone with Dorian.
“Does anyone ever question you walking around with Phoenix Ashburn?” I asked, leaning back in
my chair.
“No one questions me at all,” he responded, handing me a glass of champagne. I didn’t drink it.
“What do your Runners think about you hanging around the Coven Master?”
I shot him a glare. “You threatened to kill them if I said anything.”
He looked proud. “Good girl.”
Another shiver down my core. I ignored it.
The show was starting.

MY VICTIM HAD the voice of an angel.

I sat on the edge of my seat, letting her voice soar through my soul. She wore a glittering white
dress, a veil over her face, and her voice echoed into every crevice of the room. I looked at others
and they seemed just as transfixed as I was. It was like living in a dreamland.
Dorian didn’t offer any advice on how I was supposed to kill her. He only sat back and smothered
a smirk when I asked. We sat pretty high up in our private box, I’d never make a throw like this.
Surely, there were plenty of people backstage - but would they notice someone slipping through the
shadows? People ignored what they weren’t looking for. During intermission, I walked around to the
stage, eyeing the amount of people back there -- too many for my preference, but not impossible. I
wondered how many of them knew the lead singer was a vampire.
I returned to my seat for the last half of the performance.
“Find anything?” Dorian asked.
I only hummed; I wasn’t about to give him any information if he didn’t give me anything first. I
would do this job and then this was over.
Despite how much I’d begun to stare at his mouth.
The show came to an end, and I lingered behind the Coven Monarchs as they socialized with other
members of the Coven. Vampires looked at me like I was dessert. I’d only brought one stake tonight,
otherwise I would have shed the blood of some of them to remind them who I was. I ran my hand
along Dorian’s arm as I walked away, catching his eyes as I turned the corner. In them, I found
something like triumph. Over what, I didn’t know.
My heart was in my throat as I wandered through the crowds of people gushing over the
performance, the drinks, how good it was to catch up with each other. No one noticed me on the
outskirts, meandering my way towards backstage. I slipped through the doors and was greeted by loud
cheers and congratulations. None of it was for me, but for the star. I saw her immediately, shaking
hands with a few members of the orchestra. She was still wearing her veil. I could hear her musical
laugh from across the room. I grabbed a glass of cheap champagne from one of the tables and a bite
sized cake.
I endured twenty minutes of mingling and conversational nonsense before the opera singer moved
down the hall to her dressing room. I followed her slowly, sipping champagne and stealing another
cake bite. Some drunk man stopped to congratulate me on my performance, and I shook his hand and
thanked him. I wiped my hand on my dress as I walked away.
Ten more steps and the opera singer disappeared into her dressing room. I growled in frustration,
leaning back against the wall for a moment. My stomach sat in my throat as I stared at the closed door.
I had to figure out how to get into that room. My stake itched against my thigh.
One more vampire dead. One more notch on my tallies of monsters. I would kill the opera singer
and the next vampire I killed would be Dorian Sterling.
Then… I would be done.
The realization hit me like a tidal wave, and I nodded to myself. I would kill Dorian Sterling, and
he would be the last vampire I ever rid the earth of. I would retire at the height of my career and…
then what?
I didn’t have a next step.
There was no glory in this for me anymore. Abigail had taken it from me.
I steeled myself, touching the stake on my hip to make sure it was still there. I took a few steps
forward, turning the handle and stepping inside.
“Who are you?” The opera singer was sitting on a couch, stirring a cup of tea. She still wore her
veil, surprisingly, her delicate face hidden behind it. The room was lit only by candlelight. It was
serene.
It was a perfectly fine place to die.
I locked the door behind me. “I’m no one.”
She sat up straight, tilting her head to the side. I had to move now. If she screamed, I’d lose my
opportunity. One last contracted kill, and then this would all be over.
I leapt forward, as quick as lightning. I skidded over the table, spilling tea all over the floor. I
think my dress ripped from the movement, but I couldn’t hesitate. The opera singer sobbed once, but
then the stake was in her chest, breaking through her ribs and piercing her heart. In my ears, Abigail’s
cries rang loudly. I remembered her gasp as I killed her, the same noise this opera singer made now.
The noise was all too human.
I looked down as blood poured over my hands and the girl gurgled beneath me. Her skin didn’t
turn gray as her heart stopped beating, her veins remained hidden beneath her skin. Her skin was
perfectly pink, and… warm. She was warm.
Warm.
No.
Hands shaking, I lifted the veil, finding a young girl’s face staring up at me. Tears stained her
dying eyes, makeup streaming down her face. I lifted her upper lip, feeling my stomach churn.
No fangs.
The opera singer was a human.
No.
Horror filled me, and I stumbled back, falling over the table and landing hard on my back. Blood
stained my hands, human blood. The blood of a young girl. I killed her. I killed a human girl.
I sobbed, covering my mouth and smearing blood across my face.
Human. Human. Human.
Dead.
I killed her.
I killed a human girl.
I was a killer.
The door clicked open, and I spun in horror to watch Dorian Sterling step into the room, a smug
look on his face. Horror sank into me, my stomach churning. Tears streamed down my face, I tasted
human blood on my lips.
He knew.
This whole night was a trap. Dorian sent me into it knowing the opera singer was a human. He
knew I wouldn’t hesitate. The way he was looking at me now - full of pride and disgust. This was
who he wanted me to be so desperately. He’d made me into a villain.
He knew I’d kill her.
“What did you do?” I sobbed.
“I revealed what you truly are, Phoenix Ashburn. A killer.” He took a step back, nodding. “Now
live with it.”
“No!” I scrambled to my feet, moving to stop him.
“Help, help!” Dorian screamed suddenly, stumbling backwards into the hallway. “Murderer!”
I stood, dumbfounded, and watched the world flood in.
Metal on my wrists.
Voices in my ear.
Screams. Sobs. Cries for help. Accusations.
Murderer.
I killed a human girl.
I killed her.
 Chapter 39

I was in hell.
Police walked back and forth in front of the small square jail cell they’d dumped me in,
staring at me in disgust. They’d stripped me of all my weapons, my phone, and even my shoes. I
was left sitting on a dingy bench in a ball gown covered in human blood. No one offered me a rag to
get the blood off of my hands and face. I couldn’t call anyone for help. Instead, they shook their heads
at me as if saying it was only a matter of time.
Dorian Sterling was nowhere to be seen.
He’d disappeared as the crowds rushed into the opera singer’s dressing room. The last I’d seen
him, he smiled deviously and nodded to me. I was enraged.
I would kill him for this.
But first, I wanted to wash the human blood off of my hands.
There would be no convincing these people I was innocent. Too many people saw the blood, the
stake engraved with my initials, and me standing in the middle of the room. I huffed deeply, leaning
my back against the wall and wincing at how cold it was.
She was human.
I worried I was going to be sick again. I’d thrown up in the police car and once while I waited for
them to run my fingerprints, remembering how warm the girl was while she died. Vampires went cold
almost immediately. She was warm.
I wiped my hands on my knees, taking a deep breath. If I was sick again, I wasn’t sure they’d
come and clean it up. I wondered what would happen to me.
I was a murderer.
There was enough evidence to prove it.
My thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the jail door opening. I looked up, watching an
officer walk in and stare at me in disgust. “You have visitors.”
My heart sank.
My Runners.
They walked into the jail, all four of them. Gwen looked horrified, a sweater pulled tight over her
chest. Jonah stood straight, emotionless. Shina and Beck had been crying. Beck stepped forward first,
their face solemn and dark as they stared at me through the bars. Tears sprung to my eyes as I stared at
them, shivering from both cold and terror.
 “Are you hurt?” Beck looked at the blood on my hands.
“No,” I breathed.
They nodded, rubbing their chin for a moment. Shina stepped forward, placing her hand on Beck’s
shoulder. I tensed, a tear running down my face. I knew what came next.
Beck looked up. Their eyes were soft, but their voice was hard. “You are officially stripped of
your title and badges as a Runner.”
The words were like a dagger in my soul.
Beck swallowed. “I’m sorry, Phoenix.”
I nodded once, trembling. I didn’t want to break down in front of them. I only needed to hold it
together for a few more moments while they were here.
Gwen left first, followed by Jonah. Shina lingered for another moment, sniffling once before
nodding and following the others. Beck stayed, stepping forward and placing both of their hands on
the bars.
“Tell me this is some cruel joke,” they whispered. “Tell me you didn’t kill a human.”
I gulped, shaking my head. “I made a mistake, Beck.”
Their grip tightened on the bars. “We could have helped you, Phoenix. Why didn’t you let us help
you?” They cried.
I wiped more tears, but made no motion to move closer to them. “Because he would have killed
you all.”
Realization set into Beck’s eyes. “The Coven Master,” they whispered. First, they looked
shocked, then they seemed sad. Their shoulders slumped as they held onto the bars, resting their
forehead on them. “I’m sorry, Phoenix”
The door creaked again. The officer stepped back into the room, looking at Beck.
“Time to go. Her bail’s been paid.”
“She’s on bail?” Beck looked up in shock.
“Not one a Runner can afford.” The officer rolled his eyes, glaring at me. “It pays to have
powerful friends.”
Dorian.
“Go, Beck,” I whispered. “I’ll be okay. Take care of my team.” My voice broke at the end of my
sentence. They weren’t my team anymore. They were Beck’s.
Still, Beck nodded, wiping a tear off their cheek. When they walked out, they didn’t look back.
I watched the officer unlock my cell door, impatiently motioning for me to stand. I did, hissing at
the feeling of my feet on the cold floor. My dress trailed behind me as I walked forward. I stepped
around the officer, gulping when I saw Dorian step through the door to the jail.
“I’ll take her from here, thank you officer.” Dorian held out his hand to me.
The officer shook in fear behind me, it was almost amusing. I let my shoulders slump, shuffling
forward to take Dorian’s hand. He was cold.
The opera singer was warm.
Dorian led me out of the police station, where there were at least a hundred cameras waiting
outside to catch a glimpse of the world’s fallen Runner. I kept my eyes down, stumbling after him to
the car. I slid in first, pulling my dress with me and crawling all the way to the corner of the backseat.
Dorian sat next to me, and the car rolled forward slowly, snaking around the media crowd. Tears
streamed in oceans down my face as I rested my forehead on the car window, staring out into the
early morning light.
It was so cold in the car. I pulled my knees to my chest, shivering uncontrollably as I watched cars
and buildings go by. My tears were silent, but deadly. I could barely see straight, and they never
faltered.
I would never be a Runner again.
Grief drowned me. I felt like I’d lost a piece of myself. For years, I had collected bricks, built a
kingdom. I’d lived in a castle of gold, atop the highest tower. I was the best. I was unstoppable. All of
it crumbled to sand with one wrong move. I should have known Dorian would try something. I should
have hesitated with my weapon and been a little more careful. I rubbed the back of my neck
obsessively, wishing I could feel the tattoos hidden there. I was weaponless, cold, broken, without a
home to retreat to. The sun rose more as we drove further out of the city, and I watched the sky turn
pale pink.
The car pulled up to the Coven mansion eventually. Dorian got out of the car immediately. He
didn’t look back as he disappeared inside, away from the sun.
I got out slowly, scrunching the gravel beneath my bare toes and staring up at the enormous house.
I wanted to burn it down.
I sat on the stairs outside the door, letting the sun wash over me.
I was untouchable out here.
He couldn’t hurt me now.
My tears came heavier now, harsh sobs rattled my chest. I covered my mouth, my whole body
convulsing with my waves of grief. I was alone, in front of an enormous house of the dead.
I’d killed a human girl.
Each time I thought I had no more tears to cry, more came.
 Chapter 40

D orian found me after sunset. I sat at the edge of a pond, tossing frozen vegetables at a bunch of
ducks. I’d gone inside in the middle of the day to shower and find a change of clothes in the
room I’d stayed in before. I’d found the kitchen, gulped down enough water to fill an ocean
and found a bag of frozen vegetables to use as an ice pack.
I hadn’t wanted to stay inside. I felt safer in the sunlight.
So, I’d come back outside, wandering the gardens. I spent an hour or two in the stables, where
there were half a dozen magnificent horses and a kind human stableboy named Timothy. The vegetable
ice pack had melted. I’d fed some of it to a horse and Timothy recommended I find the ponds and feed
the ducks.
Here I was. Feeding the ducks.
My eyes burned from all the tears; my head pounded. My hands shook as I lifted soggy vegetables
from the bag and scattered them through the water, watching the ducks paddle forward frantically for
a pea or a carrot.
I looked up when I heard footsteps, my shoulders slumping when I saw Dorian materialize from
darkness. His hands were clasped behind his back as he strolled, looking through the gardens casually
before his eyes settled on me. I hated that he looked as unruffled and flawless as always, while I sat
here in clothes that didn’t quite fit with my hair in a bun and tears staining my cheeks.
“What do you want?” I threw another small handful of vegetables. My voice came out softer, more
broken than I intended and I cursed my own fragility.
“I apologize for checking to make sure you’re safe,” he snapped. I gritted my teeth, annoyed at his
harsh tone. He had no right to be angry with me - all of this was his fault.
“Why do you care?” I looked down at my bare feet, dragging them through the damp grass. My
boots and socks sat next to me. “Isn’t my misery exactly what you wanted?”
“No.”
I scoffed. “Go away, Sterling.”
“Come inside.”
“No,” I hissed, glaring at him. “I’m feeding the damn ducks.”
He inclined his chin. “Fine, but it’s expected to rain tonight. I’ll see you inside soon.”
“Like hell you will,” I muttered as he walked away.
I looked up at the sky. It was clear.
 When I finished feeding the ducks, I wandered further into the gardens. I carried my boots in one
hand, ignoring the cold and sharp rocks beneath my feet as I walked. The farther from the house I
walked, the more it was like a labyrinth leading me to another world. I passed fountains and
sculptures, walls of flowers and topiaries.
Clouds formed overhead.
I settled down in a corner of the garden, setting my boots down next to a marble bench. There was
a large fountain in front of me, a sculpture of a lover’s embrace in the center. I sat on the edge, running
my hands through the cool water. Out of the corner of my eye, a rabbit skittered under the hedges.
I felt safe out here.
I never wanted to leave.
My sister was dead. Finley was dead. A human girl was dead.
All because of me.
I would never be a Runner again.
This seemed as good of a place as any to grieve.
When it began to rain, it was gentle at first. I blinked it out of my eyes, letting my hair fall over my
shoulders. I walked in circles in my small corner of the garden, breathing in the fresh air. A few tears
escaped, almost burning as they ran down my sensitive skin. I sank to my knees in front of the fountain
as it rained harder. The droplets were cold on my skin, but I didn’t mind. They reminded me I was
still alive. I clung to the side of the stone, crying again. Again, the sobs rolled through me in tsunami
waves. I let myself sob and scream and slam my hands down on the stone. It was all I could do.
The rain was pouring over me now. I was soaked to the bone, shivering and sobbing. Still, I did
not get up.
Dorian had won.
Even if I killed him, I’d lost everything.
I would never be a Runner again. Surely, I would face trial for murder. I could go to prison.
He’d taken everything from me.
I was right where he’d wanted me all along - broken and begging for the pain to stop.
The almighty Phoenix Ashburn had fallen, once and for all.
I knew he’d arrived before he made a noise. I could feel his presence behind me like a suffocating
darkness, waiting to steal the last of my breath. Dorian Sterling emanated power, control - everything
he’d taken from me. Everything he could give back to me if I asked him to. I rested my head on the
wet stone, sobbing once more.
“Come inside,” Dorian called through the rain. “You’ll give yourself pneumonia.”
“Good,” I breathed.
The rain was so loud now. I barely heard his footsteps as he moved closer. His hand was ice cold
on my arm as he pulled me from the ground. I thrashed like a feral animal, stumbling away from him
and glaring fiercely. Part of me expected him to be angry, to yell and force me to come back to the
house. Instead, he sighed, shrugging and moving to sit on the bench across from me. He was wearing a
suit, as he always did, but it was soaking wet, clinging to every chisel and curve of his body. His hair
hung in his face, he kept brushing it back out of his eyes. I hadn’t realized it was so long. When it was
dry, it had a slight curl to it, and rested so perfectly on top of his head.
“This is what you wanted?” I whispered. “You wanted to break me, right?”
“Yes.”
I trembled, shaking my head. “I don’t understand, Dorian,” I cried, tossing my hands in the air.
“You could have had anyone!” I screamed through the rain.
 He was silent as he watched me.
“I was happy.” I stared at him as I cried now. “I was the best. I had everything.”
Dorian licked his lips. “Except you didn’t. But now you see that you could, don’t you?”
“No!” I fell to my knees in the gravel. “I don’t want what you offer.”
Dorian stood, walking forward and kneeling in front of me. “You do, don’t you?”
“No,” I sobbed.
Yes.
I wanted my throne. I wanted my power. I wanted people to tremble in fear in front of me.
Dorian reached forward to brush my hair out of where it stuck to my face. “Say yes, Phoenix.”
“No,” I whined, even as I leaned into his touch.
“Yes. Be the Heir to my Coven. Take what I’m offering you.”
Yes.
“I don’t want it,” I whispered.
“Tell me what you want, then.”
“I want to feel something.”
He leaned forward, kissing me softly, only once. “Like that?”
“Yes,” I breathed against his mouth.
Dorian pulled me close suddenly, his tongue slipping through my lips. I moaned into him,
immediately moving to pull at his tie, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as I could. Dorian responded
accordingly, nipping at my jaw as he peeled off his soaking shirt and moving to pull my shirt over my
head. I pulled his mouth back to mine, deliberately running my tongue over his fangs, basking in the
gasp that fell from him as my blood dripped into his mouth.
He moved faster then, pulling me to my feet and fumbling with his belt and pants. His mouth never
left mine, hungrily pulling me closer, faster. The rain poured over us, Dorian’s skin was so
deliciously cold.
The opera singer had been warm.
I shook off the intrusive thought, stripping naked in front of him. Dorian beckoned me forwards,
slipping his hand between my thighs to where I longed to feel the most. I cried out as he fingered the
most sensitive bundle of nerves before slipping his finger inside of me. I crumbled into him, leaning
up to catch his mouth, offering him a taste of the blood I knew still leaked out of my tongue. He added
another finger, pumping in and out of me quickly. My legs shook and I yelped when his thumb traced
over my clit. More, more, more.
I wanted more of him. All of him.
“So deliciously wet,” he groaned. “So delicately human.”
He sat down on the bench, wasting no time in pulling me down on top of him. I slowly sank down
on his length, moaning in pleasure. He filled me perfectly and I let my cries of delight echo through
the rain.
I hated him.
I needed him.
Dorian thrusted upwards to meet the rolls of my hips, penetrating me deep and hard. Rain poured
over my face when I leaned back, slipping one hand between my legs to touch myself. Dorian held me
tight, making sure I wouldn’t fall backwards as he pushed in and out of me.
He pulled me forward suddenly and I fell against his chest, still rolling my hips against his.
Dorian brushed my hair back frantically, kissing down my jaw and neck. Slowly, his tongue ran along
my throat, a deep growl coming from him.
 “Please,” I whined, tilting my chin further back, begging him to bite down.
He did.
God, yes.
My blood mixed with the rain, running down my chest and staining me red. I rocked my hips
harder, feeling a knot forming in my stomach, longing for release. I kept twisting my fingers over my
clit, feeling Dorian’s teeth and tongue on my throat. He held onto me tightly, like I was the only thing
keeping him sane. I cried out when he bit down harder, pulling me closer still to him.
That did it. I came hard, trembling and clinging to him.
Dorian pulled back as I came down from my high, his mouth moving to mine slowly. He
swallowed, looking at me with something like admiration as he watched me continue rocking against
him.
He lifted me off of his hips suddenly and I gasped at the lack of contact, but smiled in delight
when he turned me over, lowering me to my knees. I winced at the rocks beneath my knees, but forgot
about the pain as Dorian pushed himself into me again. He pulled me up so my back was against his
front as he fucked me hard, one hand on my throat. I paused in surprise when his other hand brushed
my lips. There was blood on his wrist. Vampire blood.
“Please,” he whispered in my ear, nipping at my skin. “Take my blood while I take yours.”
I nodded dreamily, leaning forward to close my mouth over the wound he’d made for me, holding
onto his wrist with both hands. Dorian’s teeth sank into my neck again, his hips never faltering. His
other hand left my throat, instead holding me still as he fucked me into oblivion. Rain poured over us,
vicious and unforgiving.
Dorian pulled back, still holding his wrist against my lips, muttering a warning about his release
in my ears. His hips sped up for a moment and I moaned deeply, my eyes rolling back in delight as I
felt him come for me.
“Mine,” I whispered, letting go of his wrist. My head fell back on his shoulder as he trembled,
holding me against him in the aftermath of his orgasm.
He hummed, kissing my jaw. “Yours.”
 Chapter 41

I shivered, hunched over the dining room table as I nibbled on a piece of bread. There was a
warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders. In hindsight, sex in the rain was a bad idea. I
couldn’t get warm. I couldn’t stop shaking. I looked up as Dorian walked back into the room,
setting a bowl of soup in front of me and sitting down next to me.
“I’m not hungry,” I told him. “I wanted tea.”
“When was the last time you ate?” He countered.
I wrinkled my nose.
“Eat, and I’ll give you tea.”
I blinked slowly, setting the bread down and pulling the soup closer. Dorian leaned back in his
chair, looking out as rain continued to thunder against the windows. His hair was still slightly wet, so
was mine, but we were both at least in dry clothes. My hand shook as I stirred the spoon around in the
soup. My stomach churned at the thought of eating anything at all, and I set it back down with a sigh.
“Can I ask something?”
“Yes, you need to eat,” Dorian growled.
“Are you going to kill me?” My question came as a whisper. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the
answer.
Dorian licked his lips. “Not tonight.”
“But, eventually?”
“Yes.”
I nodded slowly. Apparently, I had no tears left to cry, even as fear rushed through me.
“What if I kill you first?”
Dorian had the audacity to smile. “You can’t if you don’t eat your damn soup.”
I laughed once, picking up the spoon and taking one sip deliberately. My stomach flipped in
protest, and I set it back down. I was too tired, my eyelids drooping closed, and my stomach wasn’t
going to make eating easy. Maybe, if I rested first, I could eat later. I could deal with everything later-
- the Coven, my murder charges, my mother, everything. Dorian opened his mouth to say something
else, but I shook my head, standing from the table.
“I’m going to go lay down,” I sighed.
He was quiet.
I wrapped the blanket tighter around my chest as I left the dining room. My body ached as I
walked up the grand staircase slowly. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything quickly. What was the
point?
I was going to die here anyway.
I supposed dying here was better than prison.
I made it to the room I was staying in for now, pushing the door open with a slight creak before
realizing another door down the hallway was wide open. Curiosity got the better of me and I pulled
the blanket tighter still as I wandered down the hall. It was Dorian’s room. The room was still dark,
but twice the size of mine. My eyes settled on the enormous French doors that led out to the balcony.
Rain pounded against them, streaming down the glass as if it was begging to be let in. My eyes settled
on his bed, still stained with my blood and my stomach flipped.
There was a stake on the pillow.
My stake.
I walked forward quickly, snatching it up and looking at it closely. It was the same stake I’d used
to kill the human girl. What was he doing with it? Compulsively, I tucked it under my blanket and fled
the room. I closed and locked the door to my own room as soon as I reached it, looking down at the
stake like it was made of gold.
I could kill Dorian Sterling.
Frantically, I ran to turn on the shower, and then the sinks in the bathroom so none of the vampires
could hear anything as I searched for a place to hide it. I paused. I couldn’t hide it. I had to use it now.
I’d taken it from on top of Dorian’s bed. As soon as he came upstairs, he’d know it was gone. He’d
know who had it. I groaned in frustration, pacing back and forth. I was cold, weak, and overworked.
The chances of me being able to take down a vampire as strong as Dorian were slim. They weren’t
quite zero, but definitely close.
I had to try, didn’t I?
I was Phoenix Ashburn.
I could do this. I could do this now.
I turned off the sinks and the shower, moving to unlock the door and return downstairs. I turned the
handle, taking another deep breath of reassurance before I opened the door.
Pain.
It shot through me like a firework, hot and explosive. For a moment, everything moved in slow
motion, like a black and white picture. My head pounded; my whole body seized in agony. The stake
clattered to the floor. I looked up into a very familiar set of green eyes that looked almost apologetic.
I looked down. The hilt of a blade protruding from the center of my chest.
Oh.
He said he wouldn’t kill me tonight.
He lied.
Dorian pulled the blade back, and blood splattered over the floor. The world came into screaming
color once more and I stumbled backwards, falling hard. I looked up to see the Coven Master
standing in the doorway, a long, sharp blade in one hand. He leaned down to pick up the stake,
looking thoughtful, then back at me.
I couldn’t breathe.
It felt like I was drowning.
Each breath I took was ragged, and gurgling, full of pain. I looked down, trying feebly to stop the
blood that poured from my chest.
Dorian said something.
 I couldn’t focus enough to hear him.
I tried to breathe again, but coughed roughly, tears filling my eyes. Terrified, I attempted to
scramble away when Dorian moved forward, though he only looked like a shadow now. The world
was blurring. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were open. There was fire. I think I moved. I realized Dorian
sat behind me now, he’d lifted me up to rest against his chest. My eyes were open again; I was staring
at the blood still oozing from my chest with every breath I tried to take. It was growing harder and
harder to breathe.
I think I was crying. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Dorian was talking again. I tried to focus on him.
“...I’ve got you. Just relax. I’ll keep you safe…”
I didn’t feel very safe.
My eyes flicked to the blade he’d dropped on the floor. The same blade had pierced my chest. My
heart? No, my lungs. I could hear the gurgle of liquid in my chest as I struggled to breathe. My heart
roared in my ears, frantically trying to repair whatever damage had been done.
I tried to sit up again and realized there was blood dripping from my nose.
Or maybe my mouth?
There was a lot of blood.
I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
Pain. Everywhere. All at once. Unbelievable pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Dorian.
I looked at him above me again as my breaths came shallower and shallower, the whole world
going hazy at the edges. He watched me silently. His eyes were wet. I couldn’t hear what he was
saying anymore, but I felt him press a soft kiss to my forehead- a shot of cold through all the fire.
Pain.
Breathe.
I couldn’t breathe.
I would be okay. I had to relax. I was Phoenix Ashburn. For the first time in my life, I wanted my
mother. I wanted my sister, someone I loved to hold me through this pain.
I was dying.
No.
I didn’t want to die.
I wasn’t ready to die.
I died.
 Chapter 42

H ungry.
I was so… hungry.
God, I was tired. I wanted to go back to sleep forever. I felt warm, and safe, wrapped in a
world of dark feathers. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been as happy as I felt in my resting state. Except I was
so desperately hungry that I couldn’t think of anything else. It was like every cell in my body was
starving. I longed for something I didn’t even know existed.
“I didn’t know you were planning on killing her yet.” A soft voice came through the dark, pulling
me further from safety.
“I wasn’t. Now, go. I’ll deal with Phoenix.” A second voice.
Phoenix… The voices were talking about me.
“Why isn’t she awake yet?”
“She is.”
My eyes opened.
Waking up was an assault on my senses. The world was too bright, too loud, too warm. I was so
hungry. I was laying on my back, staring up at the ceiling. There was a thick blanket over my chest;
that’s why I felt so warm. It took me a moment to realize the only light was a candle, but it still felt
too bright. Slowly, I licked my lips. I felt detached from my body somehow, like it didn’t belong to
me. The voices fell quiet, and the only thing I could hear was my own breathing, shallow and uneven.
It was still raining; I could hear that too.
“Phoenix?”
That was my name.
I didn’t know why that seemed like such a revelation.
The person talking was Dorian. I knew Dorian. I turned my head in the direction of his voice, my
eyes settling on the Coven Master sitting in a chair next to me. He lounged back, there was a book on
his lap and a glass of something red in one of his hands. I stared at him, mesmerized by the candlelight
creating dancing shadows across his face. Dorian stayed perfectly still, his eyes remaining on me,
waiting. What was he waiting for? My eyes dropped to whatever was in the glass. It smelled good.
I could smell it.
Images flashed through my mind. A stake. A knife. So much blood.
 I was dead.
No.
I blinked again, sucking in a breath. I opened my mouth to say something, but my voice didn’t
come. Slowly, I sat up, every muscle in my body screamed in protest. Hungry, hungry, hungry. I
thought I’d go mad from the sensation alone. My eyes trailed back to the glass in Dorian’s hand and I
cleared my throat, looking away from it in confusion and disgust.
My mouth felt full. I moved to lick my lips, gasping when my tongue dragged over something
sharper than a knife.
Fangs.
I was a vampire.
Ignoring Dorian, I leapt from the bed, scrambling towards the bathroom. My legs shook beneath
me like a newborn fawn and a small cry fell from my mouth as I looked at myself in the mirror. I
grimaced at myself and there they were, two perfectly sharp fangs. I looked ghastly, extremely pale
with dull hair and shadows as dark as night under my eyes. I licked my chapped, broken lips and
looked at the fangs in the mirror again.
The room spun around me. I gripped the countertops, sobbing.
I had become my worst nightmare.
Dorian appeared behind me, lingering in the doorway. Still, he said nothing. He stepped forward,
setting the glass on the counter in front of me.
“Is that what I think it is?” My voice was hoarse, barely audible.
“Yes.”
Blood.
Human blood.
I was so hungry.
Was that what I was hungry for? This hunger came with a searing pain through my gums, a hot
flash and dizziness. I backed away from the glass of blood and Dorian, crossing both arms over my
torso to control my shivering.
Dorian looked amused, stepping forward and picking up the glass. His eyes remained on me as he
lifted it to his mouth. Instinctively, my eyes dropped to the red liquid, watching it slosh in the cup.
Some of it stained his lips as he lowered it, perfectly red. Dorian licked his lips, smirking as he
watched me. It smelled rich and savory, the fragrance filling the bathroom. I couldn’t look away from
it, my eyes wide as it swirled again. Physically, I ached for it. I was disgusted by the thought of human
blood, but realized I needed it more than anything. Dorian tilted the cup and I whined softly as a
single drop fell to the ground.
Then another.
And a third.
“Stop,” I cried, covering my mouth in shock.
Dorian held out the glass.
I crept forward, holding out my hand like a broken child. The Coven Master stayed perfectly still,
waiting. I moved closer, my hand closing over the cup. I was shocked to discover it was warm
beneath my fingers. I sank to my knees, clinging to the cup as I stared at the blood inside of it.
No, I couldn’t do this.
I didn’t want it.
God, I was so hungry.
I brought it to my lips. Blood stained my mouth, pouring over my tongue. A small moan fell from
my mouth, the hunger growing stronger as I tasted the blood. It tasted like life, with a hint of
sweetness. I hadn’t expected it to be sweet. I tilted the glass back further, running my tongue over the
edge, gulping it down.
Yes, this was what I needed.
The cup shattered in my hands.
I yelped, scrambling back as glass cut through my fingers. The noise felt unnaturally loud, like a
burning in my ears. Blood splattered over my face and chest and I cried out in devastation. I hadn’t
meant to waste it. I was so hungry. I tried to shake the glass off of me, frantically leaning forward to
try and lick my fingers.
Dorian moved now, grabbing both of my bloody wrists and holding them away from my face. “I
have more, breathe.”
Still, I leaned forward, trying to lick blood from my fingers. Tears burned my face when Dorian
put my hands under the water in the sink, washing away the blood. I was so hungry. I trembled and
cried in desperation as he took a rag, washing off my face.
“I’ll be right back.” He dabbed a dry rag on my face.
I watched him go. The door shut and then I was alone. I looked down at the broken glass and
blood on the floor, shaking my head and backing away from it. I turned to my reflection again,
checking to make sure the fangs were still there - they were. This wasn’t a dream.
God, I was so hungry.
I crawled up onto the bed again, grabbing the TV remote off of the bedside table and clicking it
on. I couldn’t stand the silence. Quickly, though, I turned the volume almost all the way down,
flinching away from it.
It was my face on the screen.
Phoenix Ashburn, Runner Turned Murderer.
The newscaster was saying something about how vampires must not have been enough for me.
They speculated about the mystery donor who paid my bail and where I was now. The screen flashed
to Beck’s face, talking about how they’d taken over as Lead Runner for Brooklyn. Beck nodded into
the camera, sucking in a deep breath. They looked sad, dressed in all black. There was a pearl
necklace around their neck - I recognized it as mine.
“We never saw it coming,” they said as the audio cut to them. “Phoenix has been troubled for a
while now, but we never imagined she would do something as terrible as this.”
I turned the TV back off, tossing the remote across the room. It shattered against the wall.
I swore, looking down at my hands. I was stronger than I remembered.
The door opened again and Dorian walked back in, glancing down at the broken remote. He
looked back up at me in amusement, but I wasn’t looking at him. I looked down at what was in his
hand. A wine bottle full of blood.
He handed it to me. “Don’t spill it on the sheets.”
I wrinkled my nose, rolling my eyes and taking it from him hungrily. I pulled the top off,
frantically bringing the bottle to my lips.
This one tasted different than the last, less sweet and more tangy. I paused, licking the bottle
opening hesitantly at the flavor. Dorian chuckled softly, settling back into his chair next to the bed. I
didn’t want to focus on the flavor anymore, I was starving.
I took a big drink, swallowing desperately. One gulp after the other, I felt the desperate hunger
fading from my body. Not all of it made it to my mouth, some dripped down my chin and neck. I didn’t
care. I was so hungry.
 My eyes fluttered closed, and I wished I could swallow more all at once. Strength poured back
into me inch by inch and I moved my mouth away from the bottle to take a breath. When I placed it
back, there was nothing else.
“No,” I whispered, tilting it back again. “More.” I croaked, shaking the bottle.
“Later, you’ll be sick now.” Dorian reached for the bottle.
I hissed at him, yanking it back and holding it to my chest.
Actually hissed, like a cat.
I paused at the noise that came from me, looking between the bottle and the Coven Master. I’d
always heard the noise come from vampires, but never thought much of it.
It sounded absurd coming from me.
My eyes raised to Dorian’s.
I burst into laughter.
The hiss was ridiculous, but it was nothing compared to how desperately I downed an entire
bottle of blood. I was Phoenix Ashburn, Runner extraordinaire, wearing oversized pajamas and
preparing to beg for more blood to satiate my unfamiliar hunger. I looked down at the bottle in my
hand, snickering and shaking my head.
“I’m sorry,” I cackled, holding it back out to Dorian. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Dorian took the bottle, setting it on the nightstand. My laughter dissolved into hysterical giggles,
and then there were tears in my eyes. I sighed deeply, wiping them away in frustration.
“Everything you feel, both physically and emotionally, will be heightened for a few days while
you adjust,” Dorian sighed.
I looked down at my pale, shaky hands, still tasting blood on my lips. I suddenly felt sick; tears
dripped down my face. “I didn’t want this.”
Dorian was silent.
I rested back on the pillows, hiccupping out a single sob. I rubbed my hand over my chest where
the memory of the knife through my lungs echoed through me. It had been agony, dying slowly. It had
felt like a few minutes, but I wondered how long I’d actually lain on the floor bleeding out.
“Please,” he’d said. “Take my blood while I take yours.”
He’d made it sound sensual, igniting a heat in my stomach that made me want to be closer to him. I
should have known it was deliberate. He’d taken everything from me already, why not kill me too?
“Why did you do this to me?”
Still, he said nothing.
Furious, I spun towards him. “Answer the question, Sterling.”
“I have no answer that will satisfy you. I did this because I wanted to.” His voice was like nails
down a chalkboard. I dug my fingers into my knees to keep from scratching his eyes out in fury.
Slowly, I stood from the bed, walking back to the bathroom to look at my reflection. I barely
looked like myself.
“And what if I don’t want to be your Heir?” I whispered, tentatively running my tongue over the
fangs. I made the movement a few times, ignoring the stinging pain and leaning closer to the mirror to
inspect the razor teeth. I made my own tongue bleed, but when I stuck it out, the wound had already
healed over. Another tear ran down my cheek as I ran my fingers underneath my eyes. The circles
under my eyes were so dark they looked like bruises.
Dorian appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, looking amused. “I know you, Phoenix. I know
you won’t give up the chance to become one of the most powerful vampires in the world.”
I glared. “You don’t know me at all.”
 This time, he rolled his eyes.
I let out a long breath, shaking my head. I walked around the shattered glass on the ground, starting
the shower. I longed to burn under hot water and let it run over my face until it went cold. Without
looking at Dorian again, I stripped naked, dropping my clothes and stepping into the shower. I turned
the water hotter, yowling at the sensation on my skin. Immediately, I sank to the ground, stretching my
legs out and leaning against the wall.
When I glanced over, Dorian was gone.

THE SUN WAS RISING .

I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring at the window intently. I’d been alone since my shower,
wandering in circles in this small room wearing only a robe. Outside, the sky was growing brighter,
and my curiosity nagged at me. I wanted to know what sunlight felt like.
I’d realized I’d never get to lay by the pool and bask in the sun or have Sunday morning brunch
again. I never did either of those things, but the thought still hurt. I’d committed to being a creature of
the night the instant I became a Runner, but this felt different. Suddenly I felt like a caged animal,
testing the boundaries of my imprisonment.
Hesitantly, I crawled forward, up towards the headboard. The smallest sliver of sun was
travelling across the wall, growing brighter every minute. I reached forward, pulling my hand back
twice before sticking my finger into the light.
Hellfire.
I hissed again, scrambling back and yowling as I looked down at my hand as it burned bright red,
like I’d stuck my hand in fire. I cradled it to my chest, whining and moving further away from the
light.
I was still hungry.
Huffing out a long breath, I stood out of bed, still holding tightly to my aching hand. I was in a
house of other vampires, there had to be something for me to… drink. I wrinkled my nose at the
thought, but I longed to get rid of the aching hunger I felt.
I peeked out the door to find the hallway empty. To my surprise, I could hear laughter coming from
Stella’s room all the way down the hall. I knew vampires had enhanced senses, but it was strange to
experience it firsthand. My eyes flicked to Dorian’s room. As soon as I focused on his door, I could
hear deep, even breathing from inside- the Coven Master was asleep.
Pulling my robe tight, I walked down the hall towards the grand stairs. The floor felt colder than
normal on my bare feet, and I shivered all the way downstairs. When Dorian woke up, I was going to
ask about real clothes - I couldn’t seem to get warm.
I found the kitchen, immediately walking to the refrigerator.
Jackpot.
My eyes widened at the rows and rows of blood lining the entire fridge, labelled by type - A
negative, B positive, O positive. I reached for an O negative with a hum, popping the top and sniffing
it hesitantly. Immediately, I gagged and put it back - it smelled salty. I wanted whatever Dorian had
earlier, the sweet one. My head swam with my hunger and I sucked in a breath, reaching for another.
A positive smelled sour. B positive was tangy, and kind of sweet - I set it aside just in case. AB
negative was the sweet one I’d had first. I took both bottles, holding them to my chest like stolen
treasure.
I ran back upstairs to my room, shutting the door behind me and crawling into bed. I opened the
AB negative first, sighing as I brought it to my lips and took a huge gulp.
It was cold.
I nearly spat it out, huffing in frustration. I hadn’t thought to warm it up. It was thicker than before.
I stared at it before bringing it back to my mouth anyway. I was too hungry to go back downstairs and
heat it up. I kept drinking like I was parched, swallowing in huge gulps that dripped down my face
and chin. I needed more, faster.
I needed...
I froze, looking down at the bottle in horror as the thought of burying my teeth in someone’s throat
ran through me. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.
Tears welled in my eyes and I growled in frustration - I was so sick of crying.
The bottle shattered in my hand. “Damn it,” I cried.
Thankfully, it was mostly empty, but the glass burned as it cut through my skin. I moved off the
bed, setting the other bottle on the nightstand. I grabbed the garbage from the bathroom, returning to
toss the broken pieces in the trash. I washed the corner of the blanket out as best as I could in the sink,
laying it over the tub to dry.
I looked up quickly when there was a knock at my door, listening.
It was Dorian.
How did I know it was Dorian?
I sighed, not understanding my own mind and body was exhausting.
“It’s open.” I padded out of the bathroom, looking up when Dorian stepped into the room.
Oh.
My eyes trailed over him. He wore gray sweatpants and… nothing else. His eyes were still laced
with sleep, looking over the room and then settling on me.
“Where’s the blanket?” He looked at the bed.
“I spilled,” I shrugged.
He almost looked amused, then his eyes dropped down to my hand, which was still bright and
swollen from the sunlight. “What did you do?”
I pointed to the line of sunlight on the wall. “I was curious.” I held it up in front of my face.
“Shouldn’t it be healing?”
“It will, it just takes longer,” Dorian sighed.
“What do you want?” I asked suddenly.
“I heard the glass break.”
“Great. I’m fine. Bye.” I turned on my heel, going to storm into the bathroom. He didn’t leave. I
could hear him breathing, waiting for me to return. I walked a circle in the bathroom before returning
to the entryway and crossing my arms. “Look, you’re the last person I want to see right now, seeing as
you just killed me. So, leave.”
Still, my eyes trailed down to the waistband of his pants and I found myself wishing it would be a
little lower.
Or not there at all.
I shook my head, pushing my thoughts aside.
He killed me.
I didn’t want to want him.
Even if my thoughts were turning to how it felt to have him near me, against me, inside me. He
said everything I felt would be heightened for a few days, apparently this was heightened too. My
heart beat loudly, shivers running down my spine as I thought of Dorian coming closer. I thought of
him undoing the tie on my robe, laying me back on the soft bed, and making me beg for it.
Dorian stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him. My eyes widened when he
locked it. He held my gaze as he walked forward, reaching up to place his hand on my jaw, running
his thumb over my lip like he loved. I paused, placing my hand over his and holding him there. He felt
warm. Intrigued, I leaned forward, placing my hands on his chest and dragging them down his skin.
He was deliciously warm, a stark contrast to the cold I’d been feeling for hours and even more
different than he’d felt against me days ago. Dorian leaned down, catching my mouth with his. I was
even more sensitive to his touch than before, trembling beneath him.
I pulled back, sucking in a breath.
“Is that alright?” Dorian murmured, his hand falling from my face.
“I think so?” I tilted my head to the side. “It feels like… a lot.”
Dorian motioned to the bed. “Come lay down.”
I obeyed, climbing up to lay back against the pillows. Dorian moved over me, and I almost
winced back from his touch. It felt like all of my senses were assaulting me at once, his touch sending
shivers and itches across my skin. I didn’t know how I felt about it. Still, I let him kiss my cheek and
then my jaw. He waited then, checking to make sure I was okay.
I nodded, intrigued.
Slowly, kissed my neck and dragged his tongue down my collarbone. I gasped in shock, and he
paused, waiting. When the jolt wore off, I nodded again, shifting beneath him to be more comfortable.
Dorian untied the robe, letting it fall open and looking up for approval again. I gave it. He kissed
down the valley of my breasts, and over my stomach - slowly, gently. With each kiss, I relaxed
beneath him, feeling less and less overwhelmed. He dragged his tongue from my belly button to my
breasts and I sighed in delight. Fear faded to pleasure when his mouth closed over one of my breasts,
gently tonguing my nipple. Dorian groaned deeply, and I relaxed completely, finally accustomed to the
new sensation. I reached up to touch him, hesitating when he caught my wrist and pinned it down on
my side.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” Dorian whispered, looking up at me. “Then I’m going to
make you the most powerful vampire in the world.”
I accepted his kiss with a moan, reaching up to grab him by the hair before he could move again.
“More powerful than you?”
He chuckled, kissing me again, his tongue running over mine. “Second most powerful.”
I laughed.
Dorian slid down my body fluidly, kissing over my hips and thighs. Every move he made felt
extraordinary, even the featherlight touches sent warm shivers of pleasure through me. I felt every
delicate flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips and squeeze of his fingertips with an intensity I
never imagined. Even the sound of our bodies against the sheets and the bed creaking ever so slightly
added to the experience. Dorian dragged his tongue over where I was warm and wet for him; my cry
echoed through the room.
I rocked my hips up to meet his mouth desperately as Dorian licked again, harder this time. He
groaned deeply, burying his face deeper against me. I gripped the sheets on either side of me,
moaning. His tongue traced circles over my clit, alternating between long licks and short sucks. He
looked up for a moment, dragging his tongue along two of his fingers before reaching down and
nudging my entrance gently.
 He started with one finger, slow and easy, stroking me from the inside. I panted against the
pillows, struggling to keep calm and not beg him to give me more.
I would not beg.
I was going to be the most powerful vampire in the world.
Someday, Dorian Sterling would kneel for me.
Today, I would lay beneath his tongue until I came.
Dorian added another finger, slow at first. He watched me, his tongue flicking gently over my clit
as he pushed his fingers in and out. I moaned deeply, shivering with delight again. I reached down,
gripping him by his hair and forcing his mouth down on me in its entirety. Dorian chuckled, the
vibrations of his mouth pulsing through me and he moved his mouth harder and faster.
“God, yes,” I breathed, tightening my grip.
Dorian sped up ever so slightly, his fingers pumping in and out of me at the same pace he licked
up and down. A knot built in my stomach, and I arched my hips up to meet his mouth, my cries echoing
through the room. The closer I came to orgasm, the harder Dorian worked, gripping my thigh with his
free hand, and pulling me closer to his mouth. He groaned into me again, and that did it. My orgasm
rolled through me, stronger than any other I’d ever had. I saw stars.
Dorian kept licking and sucking until I quivered beneath him. He pulled back with a gasp for
breath, his lips plump and pink from his work. I whined as he kissed back up my torso until he
reached my mouth.
I shivered, cold again, pulling him closer to me. Suddenly, I was regretting spilling blood on the
blanket.
“You should get some sleep,” Dorian murmured against my mouth.
“I don’t want to sleep,” I said, whining when I felt him hard against my center. I rolled my hips
against his, pouting softly.
Dorian rolled to lay next to me. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I shivered again, sitting up and wrapping my robe around myself. “Why am I so cold?”
“It’s only because your body is acclimating to being a vampire. Come on, we’ll get you an extra
blanket.” He moved out of the bed, adjusting the front of his sweatpants.
Fuck, he was so hard.
I wanted him.
He was warm. His body could breathe life into mine.
I moved out of the bed, darting to the doorway and blocking his exit.
He paused, looking at me desperately. “I’m trying to take care of you, Phoenix.”
“Don’t.” I stepped closer, running my hand down his torso. Dorian’s eyes widened as I slid my
hand beneath the fabric of his pants, taking him in my hand tightly. “Fuck me instead.”
Dorian snarled as he pushed me against the door, his mouth covering mine in an instant. I let my
robe fall open to feel the warmth of his chest against mine, groaning into his kiss. A surprised gasp
fell from my mouth as he pulled away, moving across the room to grab the bottle of blood on my
nightstand.
“Come with me,” he growled.
I let him take my hand, dragging me out of the room and down the hall to his room. As soon as we
were inside, he locked the door behind us, setting the bottle on his nightstand and coaxing me towards
the bed. I kissed him desperately, shrugging out of my robe and pressing my body against his. Dorian
stripped out of his sweatpants, kissing me harder and faster. He climbed onto the bed first, pulling me
on top of him. I gasped in shock when he pushed into me suddenly, rocking his hips up to meet mine.
 As he thrusted, Dorian reached for the bottle of blood, popping the top open and bringing it to his
lips. I watched him hungrily, shocked when he leaned forward to kiss me, blood still on his lips.
I moaned into the tasty kiss, running my tongue over his in desperation. Dorian pulled back, lifting
the bottle again, except instead of bringing it to his lips, he let it drip down his chest. I slowed my
rocking hips, watching the small red beads stain his skin, dripping lower and lower. He added
another, and another, until they decorated his chest.
I leaned forward and dragged my tongue along his skin. Dorian gripped me, thrusting hard and fast
as I licked blood off of his chest. It was surprisingly erotic, and I felt heat pooling within me. I ran my
tongue up further, kissing his collarbone. I paused, my eyes settling on the throbbing vein in his neck.
The whole world stilled, and I practically salivated at the thought of the blood pulsing beneath his
skin.
“Do it,” Dorian whispered, his thrusts slowing.
“I don’t know how,” I breathed, licking my lips and moaning when I tasted the blood on them.
Dorian reached up, tapping his neck gently. “Right here, bite straight down and then let go and let
the blood flow.”
I trembled, wanting to look away. It felt like I needed this blood more than I’d ever needed
anything before. I leaned forward. Dorian brushed my hair out of my face, his hips slowly rocking
against mine.
I bit down.
Dorian cried out, the sound echoing through my mind as his blood poured into my mouth. It was
exquisite. I moaned into him, reminding myself I needed to let go before moving. He hissed as I
pulled my fangs from his skin and for half a second, I worried I’d done it wrong. Until he shifted his
hips and began pounding into me harder and faster than before. I moaned into his throat, lapping up as
much blood as I could. I heard the slosh of the bottle as Dorian tilted it back to his mouth, his own
moans echoing into the bottle.
I pulled back, eyes widening at the sight of blood on his neck and chest. When my gaze rose to his,
he growled, leaning up to catch my mouth again. In one smooth movement, he flipped us over, pushing
back into me and lifting my hips to meet his. The blood still on his neck dropped onto my face as I
writhed in pleasure, sticking my tongue out to let it drip onto me.
Dorian held onto my hips, pounding into me hard and fast. I slipped my fingers between my legs to
touch myself.
Holy new realms of pleasure.
“Yes,” I breathed, blood dripping down my chin.
Dorian leaned down to kiss it off, his tongue dragging over my jaw and down my neck, coming
away bloody. I pulled him back to me, accidentally catching his lip with my fangs. I thought he would
pull away, but he only moved closer and kissed me harder. Dorian whispered his release against my
lips, and I clung to him as he came.
He cried my name as his orgasm pulsed through him. It was a wonderful sound.
It made me feel invincible.
 Chapter 43

M y heartbeat was too slow.

I stood in the middle of the garden and waited for the familiar feeling of my heart
pounding in my chest. It never came. I’d been running for an hour, trying to bring warmth to
my cold bones. I looked down at myself in frustration and confusion. There wasn’t a single drop of
sweat on me and, while my heart beat a little faster than it did when I was resting, it was still
strangely slow.
My throat and gums still burned. The sensation never went away. I stayed out of the kitchen and
deliberately stayed away from Dorian and Stella, who seemed to always smell like blood. I ran my
tongue over my gums, sitting on a bench and looking at my reflection in the water. Slowly, I opened
my mouth in a grimace to reveal two razor-sharp fangs. I looked like a more grotesque version of
myself, still deathly pale with dark circles under my eyes. My lips seemed really red and my eyes a
darker shade of gray than they’d ever been before. And the fangs were… interesting. I nudged the tip
of one with my tongue and my skin parted like butter only to heal a moment later with a tingling
sensation.
Footsteps. Bewildered, I sat straight and realized I could hear a door closing and footsteps as they
crunched against gravel - coming in my direction. Tilting, my head to the side, I recognized they were
small, likely heels.
Stella.
This was strange.
Sure enough, Stella rounded the corner a moment later, wearing a mustard yellow suit. Her hair
was pulled up in a deliberately messy bun. She offered me a kind smile as she approached.
“Dorian is out dealing with your murder charges,” she said. “I thought you’d like to get out of the
house.”
I looked up at her, thinking of the constant burning pain in my throat - agony that reminded me I
thirsted for blood. I wasn’t sure I trusted myself. It was a strange thing. I’d always been so sure of
myself in the past; it was like I didn’t know my own body. “Not really.”
She looked sympathetic. “I won’t let you hurt anyone.”
I shrugged, staring at the ground.
Stella held out her hand. “Come on, Red. We’ll go shopping and get some drinks.” I tensed, eyes
widening. Stella grinned. “Alcoholic drinks.”
 Sighing, I took her hand.

AN HOUR LATER , I thought I was going to die.

I stood in the middle of the store and my throat was burning with wildfire. I trembled, my eyes
blurring as I tried to focus on anything other than the human stylist helping Stella into a sleek black
dress. My eyes kept fixing on the human girl’s throat, where I could see her veins pulsing, full of
blood and warmth. I dug my nails into my palms and gritted my teeth as hard as I could to try to
distract myself - nothing worked. I discovered I could hold my breath for minutes at a time, but every
time I took a breath it was like swallowing battery acid.
“Are you alright?” Stella glanced over, smoothing the front of her gown.
I was silent.
She sighed, looking at her stylist. “Give us a few minutes.”
The girl walked away. I watched her hungrily as she moved further and further away from me. My
whole body filled with longing and I shivered, forcing myself to step back against the wall. Stella
stepped off her pedestal, standing in front of me and snapping her fingers until I was able to look
away from the body of blood.
“You can’t kill my stylist,” she said, amused. “She’s one of the best.”
“I don’t want to kill her,” I whispered.
Except I did and the thought scared the shit out of me. I wanted to know how it felt to have warm,
fresh blood in my mouth. I longed to drown in it.
“I’m going to call Dorian.” Stella stepped back.
“I don’t want to see Dorian.” I crossed my arms, pouting.
She rolled her eyes.
The stylist returned and I groaned, sinking to the ground and burying my face in my hands. Even
when I wasn’t looking at her, I could hear her heart beating and the blood rushing through her veins.
“Hey, pet,” Stella was talking on the phone now, “I fucked up.”
I realized, with a start, I could hear Dorian’s voice on the other end of the line when he asked
Stella what she’d done. I looked up to watch Stella curiously.
“I took Red out of the house.”
Dorian was mad.
“Yeah, anyway, she’s not doing great, and I don’t want her to eat my stylist. Can you come get
her?” Stella only seemed amused at Dorian’s anger.
He was on his way.
She hung up, grinning at me. I straightened where I sat, speaking softly. “Can I ask you
something?”
She nodded, stepping back up on her pedestal.
“You’re older and stronger than Dorian is. Why aren’t you the Master?”
Stella licked her lips. “I’m not like you and Dorian. I don’t long for power or control. I was a
vampire for fifty years before I became the Successor and, at the time, it was my only option for
safety. It’s always been my safe place. Dorian is my best friend, we work very well together, but I
don’t want his job.”
I nodded, grimacing as another whiff of human blood ran through the air. I held my breath.
 I heard the human voices in the same instant Stella did. They came from outside the store and my
eyes found a group of civilians lingering outside the door. “Holy shit,” one of them gasped, “that’s
Phoenix Ashburn.”
“Is she a vampire?”
“Did you see on TV earlier that her murder charges were dropped? It seems it’s because she’s
dead.”
One of them took a picture.
“Oh, how the mighty fall.”
My heart ached.
Trembling, I stood from where I sat, slipping past Stella to move further into the store. Tears
burned my eyes again and I growled in frustration - I was so tired of crying. I walked inside the
dressing rooms, sitting in front of a mirror and huffing out a long breath. I looked ghastly. Was I paler
than I’d been earlier? I licked my chapped lips and tried to sit straighter. No matter what I tried, I
looked smaller and weaker than I ever had before. I wiped away tears.
I heard Dorian the instant he walked into the store; I knew the sound of his footsteps. There was a
sweep of fabric as Stella turned to greet him.
“Where is she?” He growled.
“Dressing rooms.”
I watched through the mirror, raising my head when Dorian turned the corner to stand behind me.
As always, he was dressed in all black and for the first time, I hated how much stronger than me he
looked. Anger faded from his face and he walked forward to kneel behind me and rest his hand on my
shoulder. I leaned into his touch instinctively.
“Let’s go,” he sighed.
I nodded and let him help me up. I was surprised when he shrugged out of his coat and set it over
my shoulders as I shivered. He walked with one arm around my shoulders, leading me out of the
dressing room. A small growl fell from my mouth when I saw there were two more humans in the
store now and I stepped back into Dorian. He tightened his grip, looking at Stella.
“When you’re finished here, drop a statement about Phoenix. Those humans outside saw her, get
ahead of them,” he said.
“Consider it done.”
I didn’t look up as Dorian led me out of the store. It was harder to breathe outside, where humans
lingered every couple of steps. I shivered and trembled, pulling the jacket closer around me and
holding my breath until we reached the car. Once the doors were closed, I let out a cry of relief.
“I hate this,” I spun on Dorian furiously. “Why did you do this to me?”
“That feeling will go away.” He sat back in his seat, raising an eyebrow.
“What feeling?” I snapped.
“Helplessness.”
I sat back and crossed my arms. “I am not helpless.”
“You’re right and I’m going to prove it to you.” Dorian smirked.
I narrowed my eyes.
 Chapter 44

T his was a terrible idea.

I stared at the nightclub in front of us, too afraid to get out of the car. I remembered the last
time I was in there with Dorian - the whole room had smelled of blood. It rained through the
air as people spilled their drinks and exposed their throats. Young vampires struggled to control their
bloodlust; my gums, tongue, and throat burned so badly now. One whiff of blood and I’d lose my
mind.
“No.” I looked at Dorian, furious he’d even suggest this.
“Why not?” He smirked slowly, licking his lips.
I looked between him and the front door, my eyes wide and my stomach churning. Dorian was
quiet, waiting for my answer. I licked my lips a couple of times and then buried my face in my hands
as I tried to avoid the thoughts of blood.
God, I was so hungry.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I whispered, rubbing my palms on my knees.
Dorian reached over and grabbed both of my hands in his. I looked up at him slowly, gritting my
teeth and running my tongue over my new fangs in a desperate attempt to feel something other than
hunger.
“Let me help you, Phoenix.” Dorian leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.
Slowly, I looked up at him, my eyes finding his in surprise. It was such a delicate response, and I
wasn’t sure what to think of it. So, I nodded.
Dorian opened the car door, and I was immediately overwhelmed by the smells and noise of the
outside. People talking, a hot dog cart down the street, music pulsing from inside the building…
blood, blood, blood. Dorian held onto one of my hands, pulling me out of the car after him. I stepped
close to him and was relieved when he wrapped one arm around my waist. My eyes trailed over the
long line of guests waiting to be let into the club. Most of them were vampires, but a select few
humans lingered on their arms. I whined softly, trying to look away from a human man with blood on
his wrist. He leaned on a vampire woman dreamily, though she was very busy talking to another
female companion.
With a gentle tug, Dorian coaxed me forward. I sucked in a deep breath and held it as we walked
through the doorway. He nodded to the doorman, who I recognized from the last time I was here. The
doorman did a double take, watching me as I entered on Dorian’s arm. The lights seemed brighter and
the room was louder and more crowded than last time. I was grateful for Dorian holding onto me and
guiding me through the room. Otherwise, I would have been lost.
Dorian stopped in the middle of the dance floor, turning me to face him. I trembled, barely able to
hear my own heartbeat over the roar of the music.
“Breathe,” Dorian commanded.
I shook my head.
He reached up, his hand closing over my throat as he pulled me closer to him. His grip tightened
more and more until pain pulsed through me. I struggled to pull away from him, desperate to hold onto
my breath so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge the blood. Except Dorian held tight until I had to gasp.
Pain.
It was like swallowing fire. My lungs burned and my knees went out from under me as the smell
of human blood assaulted my senses. Dorian caught me, spinning me around so my back was to his
front and holding me there.
“Just breathe,” he whispered in my ear.
“I can’t,” I rasped. It hurt too much.
My eyes settled on a pair of human girls dancing together in the middle of the room. They were
laughing, completely ignoring the predators around them. Both of them had bite marks on their wrists.
I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted them.
I didn’t even realize Dorian had let go of me until I was moving forward. I forgot about everything
else - the noise, the pain, the smell. I slipped through the crowd, surprised when I saw one of the girls
turn to dance with a vampire. Within seconds, their vampire partner had dug their fangs into their
neck. Blood leaked down her neck and I actually moaned at the sight of it.
I glanced back at Dorian, pausing. He hadn’t moved, except now there was a human girl dancing
close to him. Eyes on me, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm. She stumbled into him dreamily
and he wasted no time in burying his fangs in her throat.
I didn’t know how I’d missed it before, but suddenly I realized the humans were here with the
intention of being fed on my vampires. They enjoyed it. I surveyed the room, shocked, and saw
several humans in the arms of vampires, their eyes rolled back with ecstasy. I looked back at Dorian
and thought of how it had felt to have his fangs in my neck while we were naked, and he was inside of
me. Was that what it was like?
Dorian lifted his head and I gulped as I watched blood drip down his chin from where it coated
his lips. He beckoned me forward with two fingers, still holding onto the girl with his other hand, and
I walked forward willingly.
The ravishing hunger coursing through me didn’t allow me to hesitate as I bit down into the soft,
supple flesh with a deep moan. The girl cried out in delight and I was shocked when her hands found
my hips and held me against her. Blood filled my mouth and appeased the agony I experienced. This
blood was warm and thick - unlike anything I’d ever tasted before. It was heavenly. I jumped when
someone moved behind me and I looked up to find it was only Dorian, dragging bloody kisses down
my neck and shoulder. The human girl pulled my attention back to her and I hummed softly, biting back
down.
It seemed like barely a moment later when Dorian pulled me back. I hissed angrily, reaching for
the girl as she danced away. I needed her back. I was so hungry. Dorian spun me towards him and his
mouth covered mine hungrily. I growled into our kiss, gripping his shirt and pulling him impossibly
closer.
When he pulled back, he smiled and I couldn’t help but grin back at him, watching the crimson
light dance over his face. Dorian took my hand, spinning me in a circle and I laughed when I realized
he wanted to dance with me. Maybe it was because I didn’t have anything to fight for, or maybe
because I was already lost to the blood and the music, but I moved to dance with the Coven Master. I
accepted the sloppy, bloody kisses he offered me and basked in the glory of his hands roaming over
my body. I rolled my hips against his and felt him hard against my backside, letting my head fall back
on his shoulder.
“Will you do it?” Dorian whispered. I jumped to feel his fingers at the edge of my pants, pushing
past the fabric and dipping into my underwear. I whined when he touched me where I was hottest.
“Do what?” I gasped, my eyes fluttering.
“Be my Heir,” he breathed, dragging his tongue along my neck. I panted as he slipped two fingers
inside me, soft and slow. Still, we didn’t stop dancing and no one in the room seemed to care. I
rocked my hips into his hand, gasping with each thrust. Dorian popped the button on my jeans for
better access and I nearly collapsed as he rubbed his palm against my clit in sync with his fingers. His
kisses on my throat were soft and patient. I felt his fangs brush my skin and groaned in desperation,
wishing he’d bite down. He did. Dorian sped up the movements of his hand and I quivered, feeling
heat build in my stomach as he fingered me to oblivion.
He controlled every piece of me. He held me up. He guided our dancing movements and ground
his hips into mine. His fingers coaxed my release closer and closer, his mouth reminded me I was his.
I came with a cry. Dorian covered my mouth with his free hand, kissing my jaw as I shook in his
arms. His hand slipped from my pants and he brought his fingers to my lips curiously. I closed my
mouth over them and tasted myself, high on the experience. He spun me to face him, tilting my chin up
to look at him.
“Will you?”
Slowly, I smirked. I saw triumph in his eyes once he realized what I was going to say.
“Yes.”
The rest of the night was a blur of blood and sex. I barely remembered each human I dug my teeth
into, but I remembered how they made me feel - powerful. I’d feed on one side of their throat with
Dorian on the other. When we were done, our bodies found their way together in the middle of the
dance floor. Over and over again, we repeated this until the hunger in me faded to the background. At
some point, Dorian lost his shirt, and I licked the blood off his chest, not caring who watched.
We left the nightclub and slid into the car where I immediately tugged at his pants. He lifted his
hips for me to pull them down. I was already soaking wet for him and he was rock hard. Ignoring the
driver, I sank down on top of him with a cry. Dorian groaned in pleasure, reaching up to grab my
throat and hold me still while he fucked me. I ran my fingers through his hair and they came away
bloody. I leaned back, watching Dorian lean down to trace his tongue over my breasts, holding onto
me tight. I dropped my hand between my legs, sighing in delight as I brought myself more pleasure.
Every touch felt ten times better than it ever had. When I came with him inside me, I screamed his
name.
 Chapter 45

I sat back on my bed, watching the news with a knot in my stomach. It was the middle of the day.
There were a few photos of me from the mall last night, probably taken by the humans outside.
Then a couple of videos from the club - me covered in blood, me grinning with fangs, me
dancing with Dorian. The news played them over and over again, zooming in on certain parts with
fangs and conspiracies. I watched in annoyance, wishing I’d noticed the cameras while I was there. I
would have broken the phones. Finally, a written statement from Stella claiming that I was a vampire,
and I was under the Coven’s political protection. The newscasters seemed surprised and disgusted.
“I’d say she developed a taste for human blood before she died after killing the opera singer.”
The newswoman laughed. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
One of them said I was troubled.
The other called me a cold-blooded killer.
I growled.
Then there was the Runners - my Runners. My heart lurched to see Beck front and center on the
screen, stepping up to a podium. Behind them, Shina, Jonah, and Gwen all stood with their heads
lowered. The sun was bright on their faces, and I saw tears reflected on Beck and Shina’s skin. Shina
stood closest to Beck; she’d been made second-in-command. Good, she deserved it. Jonah had a new
tattoo on his arm. Gwen’s face was hard and impassive. Next to Gwen, there was someone I’d never
seen before, and I realized with a lurch that the stranger was my replacement. They’d replaced me
already.
“It comes as a surprise to hear about my former Lead Runner and best friend,” Beck’s voice
cracked, and I placed my hand on my chest. Instinctively, I leaned forward to listen to what they had
to say. “I wish we would have known about what she was going through - maybe we could have
saved her.”
I shook my head. They couldn’t have stopped me. I wouldn’t have let them.
“If you ever see Phoenix again, will you kill her?” Someone in the crowd called.
They looked at the camera with a sigh, reaching up to fiddle with the pearl necklace around their
neck. “The Phoenix we knew is dead. The creature in her place is a monster. So, yes, it is my job to
kill her if we see each other again. I hope we never do.”
I turned off the TV with a cry. I trembled in anger, digging my nails into my palms so hard I drew
blood. I wasn’t a monster. I was right here - still the same person I’d always been. Frustrated, I stood
from bed and paced around the room.
“I’d like to see them try to kill me,” I mumbled to myself, tossing my arms in the air. I sat back
down on the edge of bed and let my shoulders slump.
I was Phoenix Ashburn. I was destined for greatness.
The world was going to forget about me. I was the greatest Runner who lived and now they only
saw me as a monster. I wiped tears from my face.
There was a knock at my door.
“It’s open.”
It was Dorian.
He was dressed in a black suit as he always was, despite the fact that he’d said he was going to
bed hours ago. He glanced at the TV before walking forward and holding out a small velvet box. I
looked at it blankly, tilting my head to the side. I looked up at him with a teasing smile. “No, I won’t
marry you.”
He laughed and set it on the bed, waiting. I moved forward, flicking it open and pausing in
surprise. It was a golden ring with a huge emerald. I pulled it from the box, seeing the intricate C
engraved on the inside. It was a Coven ring, like the one he and Stella wore and the one I’d stolen
from Rhys Montagne a lifetime ago. Except this one was for me.
“Come with me.” Dorian held out his hand.
I stood out of bed, smoothing my silk nightgown against my body before following him out of the
room. He led the way downstairs to his office and closed the door behind him. I twisted the ring in
my fingers, moving to sit down on the couch.
Dorian shuffled around in his desk for a moment before pulling out a set of papers. I narrowed my
eyes as he stood, walking around to hand them to me.
I already knew what they were. It was the contract that would make me Heir to the Coven.
“You have nothing to lose,” Dorian said.
Sucking in a breath, I reached for the papers. Dorian sat back down at his desk, continuing to
work as I read through them. I wasn’t surprised by anything in them. My job as Coven Heir was for
life, I would be sworn in until I died. That seemed pretty permanent, but considering I’d killed an
Heir before, I still hesitated. It seemed the Heir’s job was a lot of what I’d already been doing as
Dorian’s assassin- looking out for the Coven’s finances and best interests, at whatever cost.
I thought of the list of powerful vampires I was supposed to kill. Would that continue when I
signed this? I tapped the pen on the paper, thoughtful. I didn’t care whether it did or not. I was a
trained killer; now, I’d be stronger, faster, deadlier. I’d be standing next to the most powerful man in
the world. I looked up at Dorian at that thought, sucking in a breath. He paid no attention to me now
and I shook my head in amusement before continuing to read.
I paused at a clause near the end. If I was caught conspiring against the Master in any way, the
punishment was death. I swallowed.
I read through the contract twice, letting it sit on my lap afterwards. Outside, it had begun to rain.
It tapped against the window, rhythmic and reassuring. I remembered what Abigail had said about
travelling the world and having an eternity of time to do it. I thought of Dorian claiming he could offer
me the world. I was going to live forever.
Dorian was right, I didn’t want to be just any vampire. I wanted to be powerful, unstoppable.
Slowly, I stood from my spot on the couch, walking over to Dorian’s desk and grabbing a pen. He
barely glanced up from whatever he was doing. I caught sight of graphs on his screen, stocks maybe. I
knew nothing about stocks. Returning to my couch, I picked up the papers again.
 One by one, I signed them all.
The first signature felt like selling my soul.
The second felt better.
By the fifteenth, it was exhilarating.
On the last one, I smirked.
I held onto it for a moment as I realized this was everything I’d ever asked for. I wasn’t prepared
for this to feel so right. This was pure, unadulterated power. This was eternity. I looked up at Dorian
as he worked and thought of the way people looked at him when he entered the room - like they’d
drop to their knees in an instant. I wanted people on their knees for me. I’d make them kneel for me,
the new Coven Heir.
I stood, approaching Dorian’s desk. He still didn’t look up.
I dropped the contract in front of him, then the pen.
Slowly, he reached up, flicking through the pages and counting each signature. I watched his facial
expression. He was trying to keep it as even and passive as possible, but there was a smile pulling at
one corner of his lips. I fought the urge to grin triumphantly, but one escaped anyway. On the last page,
Dorian nodded, aligning the papers and sliding them back in his desk before looking up at me. He sat
back slowly, watching me.
He’d won.
I didn’t care. Perhaps I’d let him win.
Perhaps this was where I was meant to be all along.
“Welcome to the Coven.”
 Chapter 46

T his was it.

Tonight, the whole world would know that Phoenix Ashburn was the Heir to the Coven.
Stella had already sent a press release to several news stations and invited the media to stand
outside the party she’d planned. Everyone would know the truth of what I’d become.
I stood in the mirror of my bathroom, barely recognizing myself. I wasn’t so pale anymore, though
I still shivered from the cold. It had only been a week. My red hair was slicked back and looked
darker than usual in the dim bathroom light. My makeup was dark, accenting the shadows that still
plagued my under eyes. I wore a long black dress with a double slit that went all the way up both
thighs. It was scandalous and dangerous. The neckline was plunging, and I wore pearl accessories. I
raised my hand in front of my face, inspecting the delicate gold ring on my ring finger, decorated with
a beautiful emerald and an engraved letter “C” on the inside.
For months, I’d been wearing Rhys Montagne’s ring as a trophy, a reminder of my great triumph.
Now, it sat in the drawer of my nightstand, all but forgotten.
I wore my own Coven ring.
This one was prettier anyway.
I sighed, looking up at my reflection again. I forced myself to smile. Beneath the dark lipstick,
there were razor sharp fangs. I didn’t wear a single weapon. It felt strange, knowing I didn’t really
need blades and stakes to cause damage now. I had become the weapon. I’d become everything I was
ever supposed to be.
I turned my head when there was a knock at the door and Stella stepped in a moment later. She
wore black tonight as well, a suit with a plunging neckline.
“You look hot!” She squealed, grinning and clasping her hands together. Stella raised her hands in
a pretend worshipping motion. I couldn’t help laughing, shaking my head as I joined her. “Let me see
the ring.” I held out my hand to her, and she took my hand in both of hers, gasping. “It’s prettier than
mine!”
Stella looked at her own Coven ring, then at mine. I laughed again, pulling my hand back. She
shook her head in defeat, motioning for me to follow her. She chatted about party details as we
walked down the stairs to the foyer. Apparently, there were going to be pyrotechnics, and fire
dancers. I rolled my eyes at the irony, but I let her be excited.
Dorian was waiting in the foyer. He looked like he always did, dressed head to toe in the darkest
black. I watched his eyes trail down the front of my dress; he gulped deeply before gaining his
composure and straightening. I stopped next to Stella, deliberately standing so the slit on my dress
parted around my thigh.
“Are we ready?” Stella grinned.
“Yes.” Dorian motioned for the door.
I took a deep breath. I was as ready as I’d ever be.
I followed both of them to the car. Stella jumped in the front seat, and I slid in the back with
Dorian. His eyes remained on me.
“What?” I asked, glaring.
He leaned closer, whispering in my ear, even though it wouldn’t prevent Stella from hearing what
he had to say. I shivered at the feeling of his lips brushing my skin. “I’m going to fuck you in that dress
later.”
Blushing, I raised an eyebrow. “I was hoping you would.”
Stella made a gagging noise.
I laughed with her.
This was simple. This was easy.
I belonged here.

THE CAR PULLED up to the venue.

I looked out at all of the media waiting outside, alerted by Stella herself. This was it, the moment
I sealed my place next to Dorian Sterling.
They all knew the Coven was announcing their new Heir. They didn’t know it was me.
I thought of the first vampire I’d ever seen; he’d killed a child in front of its parents. I could
remember the first vampire I ever killed, a young woman leaving a restaurant after having dinner with
someone else’s husband. My heart raced as I remembered the moment I became the most decorated
Runner alive; I resisted the urge to reach back and touch the tally marks tattooed down my spine. I
squeezed my hands as if I could feel stakes in them even now, poised to kill. I thought about the last
vampire I killed, no one important, just a man out with his girl. I killed her first, then him.
I thought of the opera singer.
I pushed back tears when I thought of Abigail.
I hoped my Runner team would get through this. I’d seen grief clear on Beck’s face, accompanied
by their horror and disgust at what I’d become. I was dead to them now; they’d lost their leader. I’d
lost the only kind of family I’d ever known.
I glanced at Dorian, thinking of each time his lips brushed my skin, a stark difference from slicing
a blade across my mouth or killing my Runner. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. It was nice to
feel wanted.
Instinctively, I reached over to grab his hand, sucking in a nervous breath as the car parked. He
glanced over at me, and I trembled in sudden terror. I was the Heir to the Coven. Everyone was going
to know.
“You okay?” Stella looked back.
I shook my head.
“Give her a minute.” Dorian squeezed my hand back. He moved closer, leaning forward to
whisper in my ear. I leaned back against the seat as I listened to him, my heart racing in anticipation.
“Everyone in this building answers to you now, Phoenix. You command each of them. You want them
to kneel, they kneel or they die. Tomorrow, the whole world will be talking about you. The most
powerful woman in the world.”
I shivered.
“And when we’re done here, I’m going to show you what it’s like to be worshipped.” Dorian’s
tongue traced along my neck. “Sound good?”
I nodded.
He pulled back, kissing my knuckles once before releasing my hand. “Open the doors, Stella.”
“Showtime.” She gave me a dazzling smile before opening her door.
I watched her stand out of the car, practically posing for the paparazzi. She shook hands with a
couple vampire guards out front and handed her business card to several media representatives. Then
she moved to open Dorian’s door. He nodded to me one more time before stepping out. The crowd
grew louder at the sight of the Master. He shook hands with no one, standing next to Stella with a cool
look on his face.
I could smile like Stella, seem friendly and sociable. Or, I could take Dorian’s approach and
appear untouchable. The answer was easy. I’d never been very friendly.
I watched Stella. She gave me an almost imperceptible nod and I sucked in a deep breath. Slowly,
I slid along the seat. Deliberately, I took my time, sticking out one leg, then another. I finally stood
into the blinding light. The whole world was on fire. I stepped onto the sidewalk, straightening.
I took my rightful place next to Dorian.
The whole crowd chanted my name, asking a hundred questions all at once - a drowning roar of
noise. I smirked, inclining my chin and looking directly into several cameras. I basked in the glory of
my name ringing loud above all else, over and over again.
I was the Heir to the Coven.
I was Phoenix fucking Ashburn.

J OIN P HOENIX ON THE NEXT PART OF HER JOURNEY IN

MASTER OF FLAMES
F ALL 2022
 Acknowledgments

While this book came from my heart and soul, I could not have brought it into the world without the
help of so many incredible people.
First and foremost, I want to thank my mom. Thank you for everything you’ve ever given me, your
undying support, and for feeding me so I don’t die. Most importantly, thank you for raising me to
believe that magic exists and the world is a beautiful place - I follow my dreams because of you.
Matthew, my love, my partner; thank you for each and every time you held me through my bad
days and dark nights. Thank you for your patience, positivity, and for always telling me you believe in
me. I love every second I get to spend with you.
For my grandma, who used to tuck me in and tell me bedtime stories about a little caterpillar
named Wormie-Wormie. You gave me my love of storytelling and I will be forever grateful for it.
My sisters, who say HEIR OF ASHES is the first and only book they’ll ever read. You do know
I’m writing more books after this, right?
For Daisy, my best friend, my birch, who reads every one of my books before anyone else does.
Thanks for putting up with me - I promise I’ll sign one of these for you, even though you didn’t say
please.
To the LOMLs - Jaz, Brenda, and Emily - who read the very first version of this book, back when
it was very different. Thank you for your endless support and encouragement over the years; your
friendships are so important to me.
Thank you to my editors - Jess and Olivia - who put their heart and soul into helping me make this
book perfect.
Thank you to Emily Wittig and Nicole Scarano, who made this book look its best inside and out.
And finally, thank you, dear reader, for giving this book a chance.
 About the Author

H.M. Darling is a multi-genre indie author that lives and burns in Arizona
with her scrooge of a cat named Tobey. She writes new adult books in
the fashion of dark fantasy, contemporary romance, and paranormal. She
has a bachelor’s degree in English Literature and Creative Writing.
When she is not writing, you can usually find her watching Studio
Ghibli movies on repeat, listening to Taylor Swift, or reading a book from
her never-ending TBR list.
HEIR OF ASHES is her first novel.

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