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As a new song plays in my ear, I fall to the ground, noticing another drained victim in the corner, and another vampire snacking on chicken blood.
But Caspian will save me, I remind myself, as I drift into unconsciousness.
He has to.
Right?
30
CASPIAN
Iam the one at fault here.
As I cling to the desperate hope that they have not fled with Quinn, my only thought is that I should have remained by her side. Instead, I clung to some fool’s mission doomed to fail - confronting the Moonlight Sentinels, no matter how large their numbers, on their home territory.
I am still uncertain how they connected me with her. If they had been following me, I am certain I would have known.
“You’re a damned fool, Caspian,” Ren growls at me.
He remains awake through the miracles of modern medicine - ibuprofen and aspirin in his pocket, layers of bandages engulfing his shoulder, creating a patchy bulge that almost looks like a pauldron under his dress shirt. Unfortunately, we do not have time for him to change, so his white dress shirt remains a blood-soaked mess, appearing more pink than its natural color.
“What is it this time, Ren?” I ask him, focusing on the road. We found her apartment empty, and now seek her at her place of work.
“This entire time, you thought you were invincible, thinking that nobody was watching you,” Ren says, chuckling a garbled laugh as he clutches his shoulder in pain. “Even when I followed you, you thought it was some kind of fluke.”
I grit my teeth, and feel my hands tighten on the steering wheel. I could rip it out right now and hit him with it.
“You thought, ‘surely not me,’” he says. “You said vampires are better than that. You said it couldn’t have been vampires - that vampires weren’t that stupid.”
“Can you fucking save it?” I prompt him, as the three werewolves in the back look on awkwardly.
“Give me one reason why,” he growls.
“Because they’ve probably got Quinn now, assuming they haven’t drained her fluids and left her like the others,” I reply.
We are quickly approaching the bar now. I pull to the side of the road and park the vehicle, not making eye contact with Ren in spite of my joy that he’s still alive.
I wish he understood these things better.
“You know, I have half a mind to pull you from this mission,” Ren says.
I snarl.
“For your own good,” he adds.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “We used to be friends, you and I.”
“We still are,” Ren protests, though his tone has not become anywhere near amicable.
“You have an odd way of showing it.”
We have to be careful to not alert them, assuming they’re still inside. The bar - every building in the neighborhood even - is eerily quiet, even for this hour. It’s as if everybody became ghosts, and their wails still carry on the wind.
“We should go around back,” I whisper to the four men at my side, gesturing to the other approaching PEACE vehicles.
“How can you not see that you’re a liability to this mission?” Ren asks, limping forward as he clutches his arm.
I laugh, then give him one look up and down. Behind the building, the AC unit whirs, its fans spiraling wildly. I wipe sweat from my brow, as a cool breeze blows in, caressing my shoulders.
