Kael tossed a few gold coins onto the table, the movement quick, almost careless, but his sharp eyes didn't leave the front of the restaurant. The coins clinked softly against the polished wood, a sound far too small for the tension that had wrapped itself around the three of them.
"Let's go," he said, his tone calm but edged with finality.
Penelope looked like she wanted to argue.....her mouth opening in protest....but Kael was already moving. Nerine slid out of her seat without a word, feeling the strange weight of the leader vampire's parting smirk still lingering in her mind.
They stepped out into the cool air, the bustle of Hollowood's main avenue seeming too bright, too normal after what had just happened. Kael kept a steady pace toward the carriage waiting at the end of the street. Penelope quickened her step to keep up with him.
"Kael," she began, her voice low but urgent, "what was that about? Who were those men?"
"Not now," he replied, not breaking stride.
"Not now?" she repeated, incredulous. "They walked into a restaurant and—"
"I said," Kael cut her off, his voice smooth but with a note of steel, "I have everything under control."
It wasn't a reassurance. It was an order to stop asking.
Penelope's jaw tightened, but she fell silent, throwing Nerine a frustrated glance as if hoping she might join in pressing him. Nerine just shook her head faintly. Whatever Kael knew, he wasn't going to share it in the middle of a crowded street.
The carriage door shut behind them with a soft thud, and the coachman....Xavier...clicked the reins. The horses moved at a brisk pace, the rhythmic clop of hooves on cobblestone a steady beat beneath the restless silence.
Penelope stared out the window, Nerine's hands rested lightly in her lap, but her senses were sharpened now—ears tuned to every sound outside, eyes flicking to the passing streets. Kael sat opposite them, arms folded, gaze distant but alert.
The busy streets of Hollowood faded quickly, replaced by the quieter stretch of road that led toward the estate. The noise of the city gave way to the softer sounds of night settling in—an occasional bird cry, the sigh of wind through bare branches.
That was when the horses jolted.
The carriage lurched violently, coming to an abrupt halt. Xavier's voice barked out above them, low but urgent.
"An ambush!"
Before either woman could react, the first shapes emerged from the darkness ahead—figures with unnaturally fluid movements, red eyes gleaming like coals, fangs bared, nails elongated into deadly points.
Rogue vampires.
Kael's voice was steady, but it carried the kind of authority that brooked no argument. "Stay inside. Both of you. I have this under control."
He was out the door before Penelope could protest, boots hitting the dirt with a dull thud.
The leader from the restaurant stepped forward from the group, his red eyes catching the light, the same cruel smirk on his lips. "Lord Kael," he said mockingly, "I told you, didn't I? You're on your way back to hell."
Kael's expression didn't change. "You should have stayed in the shadows where you belong."
The leader tilted his head. "We'll see who belongs in the shadows when this is over."
The first rogue lunged, and Kael moved like a blade through air. His hand shot out, catching the vampire by the throat before its claws could connect. With a brutal twist, he ripped the head clean from the body. It fell with a wet, heavy sound to the dirt.
The others surged forward.
Kael became a storm—precise, devastating, unrelenting. His movements were fluid but violent, each strike calculated to maim or kill. Heads rolled, spines cracked, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood.
But Nerine's attention was wrenched away when she caught movement to her left—two vampires peeling away from the fight, heading straight for the carriage.
One yanked the door open, his red eyes narrowing as he spotted the two women inside. "Easy ladies," he hissed, lips pulling back to bare his fangs.
Xavier was already off the rider's bench, sword drawn, clashing with another rogue on the other side of the carriage.
Nerine's pulse thundered. She didn't have Kael's speed or Xavier's weapon, but she wasn't going to sit there and wait to be torn apart.
They stepped out in surrender when her eyes landed on a sturdy branch lying in the dirt nearby, and she snatched it up, gripping it like a spear.
She stepped in front of Penelope, her stance low, her eyes locked on the advancing vampire.
He smirked at the foolishly brave human shielding a vampire.
But he wasn't here for fun either.
He slashed at her, claws grazing her waist and tearing across her hand before she could twist away. The sting of pain was sharp and hot, but she didn't back down. With a fierce thrust, she drove the stick into his neck.
The vampire staggered back, eyes wide in shock. He clawed at the wound, but the blood kept spilling—he wasn't healing. His gaze flicked to the stick still in her hands, confusion mingling with his fury.
The second rogue laughed darkly, thinking she was distracted. He lunged for her, faster and stronger than the first. She twisted to dodge, but his claws were already arcing toward her face.
Then—blood splattered across her cheek, warm and sudden. The vampire's head rolled away into the dirt, his body crumpling at her feet.
Kael stood there, one hand still slick with blood, his eyes scanning her quickly before he turned to pull Penelope to her feet. She'd been shoved back against the carriage wall, her eyes wide but unhurt.
"You all right?" he asked his sister.
"Yes," Penelope breathed, though her voice shook.
Then his gaze shifted to Nerine, sharp and unblinking. He stepped closer, and she saw something change in his expression—something darker.
"You're bleeding," he said, voice low. "Stop it unless you want to feed me tonight."
Her eyes narrowed. "The whole road reeks of blood. Why focus on me?"
One corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "Because yours smells different."
She stared back at him, unflinching. "Then control yourself."
His gaze lingered, studying her, before he asked, "Have you killed before?"
" No!" She replied confused at the sudden question.
"Humans aren't usually this calm around blood," he pressed.
Her jaw tightened. "Yes. But I'm not going to stand still and wait to die."
"And you aren't afraid?" He asked even though he could sense it.
"I'm afraid," she admitted. "But fear doesn't mean I can't defend myself. Humans aren't as weak as you think."
And with that, she brushed past him, climbing back into the carriage.
Penelope mouth twisted in a smile at what just happened.
The fight outside was ending. Xavier finished clearing the road, dragging the last broken body into the ditch. The corpses of the half-vampires didn't burn fast—they smoldered, taking time to turn to ash, the air thick with the scent of char and decay.
Kael stood among them, scanning the carnage. Whoever had sent these creatures had made a mistake—half-bloods against him was nothing short of an insult.
When Xavier finally returned to the rider's seat, Kael climbed back into the carriage. The door shut with a solid click, and the horses started forward again.
The evening felt heavier now. They didn't speak for the rest of the ride back to the mansion.
But Nerine could still feel Kael's gaze on her from across the carriage—assessing, calculating, as if the fight had shown him something he hadn't expected to find.
But he did found something out.