One Year Later…
Pollux POV.
“Keep quiet, or I’ll scratch your butt.”
Declan grumbled beside me as we made our way through the damp, moldy corridor. It was ironic; just an hour ago, he was practically begging to join me on this mission. Now, he was whining like a cockroach begging to be squashed. I extended my claws and waved them in front of his face just to mess with him.
“I’m not scared of you, Melucci,” Declan said, sticking his chin out defiantly and leaning closer.
“Oh, so you’ve grown some courage now?” I smirked.
“I’m a snitch. Got a problem with that?”
I could’ve snapped back, but I was a man of my word. Godiva, my mate, had made me promise not to cause trouble with Declan before we set out. This vampire-hunting lunatic, with his unique immunity to vampire venom, was a valuable asset to the Moonstone pack. I had to tolerate him, no matter how tempting it was to claw his smug face.
Six months ago, Castor and I stumbled across Declan in the Chiri Forest near my mother-in-law’s temple. A Death Sanguines vampiress had made the fatal mistake of biting him. Somehow, Declan survived the venom, his body adapting to it instead of succumbing. Since then, he’d become a trusted ally in our hunt for rogue vampires.
Tonight, we were hunting Virgil. A notorious Death Sanguine’ leader vamp who’d slipped through the cracks too many times. Our lead came from an alliance spy who’d handed us a severed eyeball as proof of our identity as werewolf, along with an invitation to this underground nightclub. The ambiance screamed “den of vice,” with thumping basslines, flashing neon lights, and a pervasive scent of blood, not all of it human.
We descended the last step, entering a space guarded by two hulking vampire bouncers standing in front of a heavy steel door. One wore a tailored gray suit, the other a leather vest over rippling muscles.
“Invitation proof,” the suited vampire demanded, his voice gravelly.
“Oliver Armstrong and assistant,” I replied, handing over the eyeball in a sealed vial.
The suited vampire examined it, nodded, and signaled his partner. The door creaked open, revealing a cacophony of blaring music, flashing strobe lights, and writhing bodies on the dance floor. The air was thick with a mix of sweat, alcohol, and faint traces of vampire scum scent or other supernatural kinds.
“Split up,” I ordered Declan, barely audible over the music. “Find Virgil and don’t cause a scene until I’m there.”
Declan gave me a mock salute and disappeared into the crowd. I made my way along the edges of the club, scanning for any sign of our target. My heightened senses picked up fragments of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter, and more than a few sultry offers from the club’s staff.
“Hey, handsome, care for a drink? Or maybe something more?” purred a scantily-clad woman with hypnotic red eyes.
“Sorry, sweetheart, I’m married,” I said with a grin, showing her the ring on my finger before slipping past her.
After what felt like an eternity of navigating the chaotic energy of the club, I spotted Declan near one of the lounges. He was leaning casually against the doorway, but his eyes were locked on a specific booth inside. Following his gaze, I saw him, Virgil. The vampire was lounging like a king, two human women draped over him, their laughter echoing above the music.
I moved to join Declan, who muttered, “He’s not alone. The girls are human.”
“We’ll handle it,” I replied. “Get ready!”
Declan nodded and adjusted the strap of the specially-designed weapon slung over his shoulder. It resembled a crossbow but was loaded with holy oak-tipped stakes infused with a poison lethal to vampires-our new invention.
We advanced toward Virgil’s booth. As we approached, his head turned, his crimson eyes locking onto mine. A slow, taunting grin spread across his face.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the infamous Melucci brothers… oh wait, just one of them,” he sneered. “And you brought a human? How quaint!”
“Your reign of terror ends tonight, Virgil,” I said, keeping my tone steady despite the adrenaline surging through my veins.
Virgil chuckled, baring his fangs. “You really think you can take me down in my own den? Cute.”
The tension snapped like a coiled spring. Declan fired his first shot, the stake whizzing past one of the human women and embedding itself in Virgil’s shoulder. He roared in pain, tossing the women aside as he lunged at us.
I met him halfway, claws out and ready. Our fight tore through the club, shattering tables and sending patrons screaming toward the exits. Virgil was strong, his movements a blur, but I was faster. Each strike of my claws left deep gashes, but he healed almost instantly.
Meanwhile, Declan was a blur of efficiency, reloading and firing his weapon with deadly precision. One stake grazed Virgil’s leg, another his side, but none delivered the final blow we needed.
“Aim for his heart!” I shouted, dodging a swipe from Virgil’s claws.
“Working on it!” Declan snapped back, lining up another shot.
Finally, he landed a perfect hit. The silver-tipped stake pierced Virgil’s chest, and the vampire froze mid-lunge. His body stiffened, his crimson eyes wide with shock. Slowly, he collapsed, his limbs locking in place as if encased in invisible ice.
Gotcha!
Panting, I turned to Declan. “Nice shot.”
“Told you I’m good at this,” he replied with a cocky grin.
We wasted no time securing Virgil’s immobilized body and hauling him out of the club. The few remaining patrons gave us a wide berth, their faces pale with fear. Outside, we loaded him into the back of a reinforced van waiting for us.
As we drove back to the Moonstone pack, I couldn’t help but glance at the lifeless-looking vampire in the back. This was a victory, but I knew it was just one battle in a much larger war.
“You did good tonight, Declan,” I said as we approached the pack’s gates.
“Don’t get all mushy on me, Melucci,” he replied, though I caught the hint of a smile on his face.
Soon, Virgil would face justice under Castor’s rule. For now, though, we had earned a moment of peace-however brief it might be.