Page 22 of Trust the Fall

“Well … plans changed, Julian. I needed you here.”

“I will kill you when I get loose from these chains.” He bares his teeth, and that’s when I notice the elongated canines.

Vampire.

The wolf next to Nolda growls, and the horned-demon bellows in amusement.

“Brother, don’t waste your threats. They’ll fall on deaf ears here.”

“Yes, Julian. Listen to Lawrence. Although … he’s the one who got you both in this mess. Perhaps you should aim those threats at him.”

The man referenced as Julian cuts a glare at Nolda before turning his anger on his brother.

“He’s got a point, Law,” he grinds out. “If we get out of here, it won’t be Maggie you need to hide from. I’ll help her disembowel you.”

The threat isn’t serious—it’s clear in the way Law rolls his eyes. These brothers have an affection for each other. I can feel it wafting off them. But I also feel their anger. It’s palpable. Strong. These are not human men.

“What exactly are you two doing here?” Law asks the couple seated next to him.

A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, handsome but otherwise seemingly inconsequential in comparison to the well-dressed vampires beside him, remains quiet.

“Can’t you cast some spell and whisk us out of here?” Law asks, sounding annoyed.

“The witches’ power is useless here. I have a friend who’s made sure of it.”

Witches and vampires … interesting.

The warlock sits next to an equally plain-looking woman I’m assuming is a witch too. They’re almost purposely understated, as though they were hoping to go unnoticed. They missed the mark. Anything less than demonic isn’t going unseen here.

The witch’s hair is pulled back into a chignon, and she’s cloaked in a basic brown shift dress. With further inspection, it’s easy to see she’s young. Her garb makes her look older than she is. When she turns in my direction, I find there’s not a line or wrinkle on the woman’s face. Her blue eyes sparkle with ire, but she stays silent, like her companion.

Despite the woman’s plain appearance, she is beautiful, in a girl-next-door sort of way, which makes it even less likely that they could’ve been attempting to sneak around. Which only begs the question—why are they here and why are they shackled?

I shut my eyes and attempt to reach out to Luke, but nothing happens. Could I have imagined the whole interaction earlier? Did I dream him up too?

When my eyes open, they meet a pair of dark eyes. In the corner on the opposite side of the room from me, River sits solo, slouched back, knee perched on top of his other leg. His black Henley shirt sleeves are pushed up to the elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. He appears unruffled by the whole event playing out in front of him, but his eyes remain fixed on me.

We hold each other’s gaze for several tense moments, during which I don’t even think I blink. My heart thunders in my ears and a voice whispers for me to look away, but I can’t. I’m transfixed.

What’s your story?

Thumping ricochets off the walls, finally breaking the spell. At least fifty low demons sit at tables, set up banquet style, pounding their fists onto the tables.

“Quiet,” Nolda bellows, and the noise ceases.

“What is this?” River asks, motioning toward the additional prisoners.

An impish grin spreads across Nolda’s eerie face. He leans back into his chair, arms perched atop the armrests and fingers steepled.

“The Bellamy brothers were invited here as guests.”

“Quite the hospitality, don’t you think?” Lawrence says to River in a tone that sounds more teasing than anything else.

He’s so different from any vampire I’ve ever met. Almost … human.

“Why are they prisoners if you invited them here, Nolda?” River cuts into my thoughts.

Nolda shrugs. “That’s a story for later.”