Page 106 of Eternal Obsession

Sgt. Blake raised his hand. “Perhaps if we installed security cameras in the blood banks? Who knows, the cult members may be using the blood as part of their ritual.”

“Great idea, Blake, make it happen,” Ingrid said.

Chapter Forty-Four

JADEON

Deep in thought, hands in pockets, I loomed in the shadowy alley opposite Belshazzar’s, waiting for Alex. We had arranged to meet just outside the club at midnight. That way we could watch out for each other. After several long discussions, I had deemed Alex ready to face all of this with me. However, having no need for timekeeping, Alex was not particularly good at it. And after thirty minutes of observing the club’s regulars arriving, I doubted he would show up. Perhaps the thought of seeing Orpheus again had put him off the idea.

Someone lingered behind me. I spun round to face Marcus and several of his minions. He stepped into view, danger etched in every line of him, but I met his glare unflinching, strong, and entirely unwilling to let him near me.

“It’s addictive, isn’t it?” he said.

“If you’re referring to the club, then no,” I said.

“Orpheus sends his regards.”

“What is it that you want, Marcus?”

“I have a message for you.”

“What is it this time?”

“He’s paying her a visit. He was wondering whether⁠—”

“Ingrid! He better not touch her.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll burn this place down. With him and everyone in it.”

That got his attention, and for a brief moment, he saw I was ready to do whatever it took to protect the innocent.

“Anyone who crosses Orpheus doesn’t stand a chance. Personally, I’d follow that power anywhere.”

“That’s because you follow blindly,” I snapped. “Ever tried thinking for yourself?”

Marcus peered past me and stared over my shoulder. His expression lost its arrogance, his eyes widening in a mix of terror and disbelief “Snowstrom?” he said.

I spun round and followed his gaze. In the shadows at the end of the alley was a tall man, dressed in a priest’s attire, who stared back at us with piercing blue eyes.

“Who is that?” I asked and turned to face Marcus again.

Marcus and his men were gone.

I stared back to view the priest.

He too was gone.

“Fabian?” I echoed into the night. “Fabian Snowstrom?”

His name has haunted me since I had seen it written inside our castle. Snowstrom’s book had been presented to me by my father, back when I was mortal—over two centuries ago.

Whoever he was, he had rattled Marcus.

With no time to search for the mysterious priest, I flew toward Ingrid’s flat, fearing for her safety. With concentrated thoughts, my mind studied Ingrid’s home. I viewed the apartment with clarity.

From the shadowed alley across the street from her flat on New Canal, I felt her presence—like a faint whisper threading through my thoughts as our minds connected. The TV flickered in the background, but her focus was fixed on a newly assigned case.