Aurora was walking back to her hotel when she felt it.
Someone was following her.
She had left Café du Monde twenty minutes ago, after agreeing to meet Marcus that evening to plan their investigation. The morning sun was warm on her face, and the French Quarter was alive with tourists and street musicians.
But something was wrong.
Aurora ducked into a souvenir shop and pretended to browse the t-shirts. Through the window, she watched the street behind her.
There. A tall man in a dark coat, standing by a lamppost. When Aurora had turned the corner, he had turned too. When she had stopped, he had stopped.
Professional surveillance.
Aurora left the shop through the back exit and took a winding route toward her hotel. The man followed, always staying exactly the right distance behind.
Who is he? One of Marcus's people? Or someone else?
Her phone buzzed with a text.
"We need to talk. Meet me at the old warehouse district. Pier 47. Come alone. - V"
Aurora stared at the message. V.
Vincent Blackwood was supposed to be dead. Marcus had killed him ten years ago.
So who was texting her?
Aurora looked back toward the street. The man in the dark coat was gone.
But her phone buzzed again.
"If you don't come, Marcus dies. You have one hour."
Aurora's blood went cold. She tried calling Marcus, but it went straight to voicemail.
Damn it.
She could call for backup. Sarah had contacts in the city. But the text said to come alone. And if Vincent - or whoever was using his initial - really had Marcus...
Aurora hailed a taxi.
"The warehouse district. Pier 47."
"You sure about that, lady? It's not exactly a tourist area."
"I'm sure."
The ride to the docks took thirty minutes through increasingly run-down neighborhoods. Aurora used the time to check her weapons. The silver knife strapped to her thigh. A small pistol in her jacket pocket. Witch-blessed bullets that would hurt any supernatural creature.
But if this really was Vincent, if he had somehow survived Marcus's attack ten years ago, then Aurora was walking into a trap set by someone who had already killed her parents.
So why are you going?
Because Marcus might be in danger. Because despite everything she had believed for ten years, he had tried to save her family. Had saved her.
And because the mate bond was pulling at her like a physical rope. She couldn't leave him to die.
The taxi dropped her off at the entrance to the old warehouse district. Rows of abandoned buildings stretched toward the Mississippi River. The air smelled of rust and decay.
Aurora walked toward Pier 47, every sense on high alert. The area seemed deserted, but she could hear movement in the shadows between buildings.
You're not alone here.
Pier 47 was at the very end of the district. An old wooden dock that stretched out over the brown water of the Mississippi. At the end of the pier sat a figure in a wheelchair.
As Aurora got closer, she could see who it was.
Vincent Blackwood.
He was alive, but barely. His left leg was gone below the knee. His left arm hung useless at his side. Scars covered the visible parts of his face and neck.
Marcus hadn't killed him ten years ago. But he had come close.
"Aurora," Vincent said as she approached. His voice was different now. Hoarse. Damaged. "You came."
"Where's Marcus?"
"Safe. For now."
Vincent gestured with his good arm toward a large crate sitting near the edge of the pier.
Aurora could hear muffled sounds coming from inside. Someone trying to speak through a gag.
"Let him go."
"Oh, I will. After we finish our conversation."
Aurora stopped about ten feet away from Vincent's wheelchair. Close enough to talk. Far enough to run if necessary.
"You look surprised to see me," Vincent said.
"Marcus said he killed you."
"He tried. Very nearly succeeded. Spent three months in a coma. Another year learning to walk again." Vincent held up his useless left arm. "Some things never healed properly."
"Good."
Vincent smiled. It was a horrible sight with his scarred face.
"Such venom. You really are your father's daughter."
"What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted. To protect my family's legacy."
"By murdering innocents?"
"By eliminating threats. You're still a threat, Aurora. More than ever, now that you've come into your full power."
Vincent reached into a bag hanging from his wheelchair and pulled out a tablet. The screen showed security camera footage from the alley behind Bourbon Street.
Aurora watched herself fight the three vampires. Watched her eyes cycle through gold, red, and green. Watched power pour off her like steam.
"Three bloodlines," Vincent said admiringly. "Just like the prophecy predicted. You're magnificent, child. And absolutely terrifying."
"I'm not here to hurt anyone."
"Aren't you? Then why did you come back to New Orleans? Why seek out my nephew?"
Aurora said nothing.
"You came here for revenge. Just like I thought you would." Vincent set the tablet aside. "The question is, what are you willing to sacrifice for it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Marcus loves you. Did you know that? Even after one meeting, the mate bond has him completely enthralled."
Aurora felt her heart clench.
"He doesn't know me well enough to love me."
"Doesn't he? Mate bonds don't care about time or logic. They care about souls recognizing each other." Vincent leaned forward in his wheelchair. "Would you like to know what he told me when I called him?"
"You called Marcus?"
"Oh yes. Told him I had you. Told him where to find you. Do you know what he said?"
Aurora waited.
"He said he would do anything to keep you safe. Anything at all." Vincent smiled that horrible scarred smile. "So I asked him to prove it."
"What did you ask him to do?"
"Come here alone. No backup. No weapons. Walk into what he knew was a trap."
Aurora's blood went cold.
"Where is he?"
"He's here. In that crate. Unconscious and very much at my mercy."
The sounds from the crate got more urgent. Someone kicking against the wooden walls.
"I could kill him right now," Vincent continued. "Put a silver bullet in his brain. End the Blackwood line forever."
"Don't."
"Or..." Vincent paused dramatically. "You could take his place."
Aurora stared at him.
"What?"
"One life for another. You die, he lives. The three-blood threat is eliminated, and my nephew gets to continue the family legacy."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you both die. Along with everyone else who might try to help you."
Vincent pulled out his phone and showed Aurora the screen. It was a live video feed from inside a building. Sarah Whitmore was tied to a chair, unconscious but alive.
"Your mentor is quite resourceful. It took my people hours to track her down."
Aurora's hands clenched into fists. Her three bloodlines stirred in response to her rage.
"You bastard."
"Careful with that temper. You wouldn't want to lose control and accidentally hurt the people you're trying to save."
Vincent was right. Aurora could feel her power building. But there were too many innocent lives at stake.
"So what's it going to be?" Vincent asked. "Your life for theirs?"
Aurora looked at the crate where Marcus was trapped. At the phone showing Sarah's unconscious form.
"If I agree, you'll let them go? Both of them?"
"You have my word."
"The word of a murderer."
"The word of a man who's spent ten years planning this moment."
Aurora closed her eyes and thought. There had to be another way. Some option Vincent hadn't considered.
But what? He held all the cards. Had her friends. Had planned for every contingency.
"Time's up," Vincent said. "Decide now, or I start killing them one by one."
Aurora opened her eyes.
"I'll do it."
Vincent smiled.
"I thought you might. Walk to the edge of the pier."
Aurora walked slowly toward the end of the dock. The Mississippi River flowed dark and fast below her. She could smell the muddy water. Feel the pull of the current.
"Now jump."
"What?"
"Jump into the river. Let the current take you. Drown like the monster you are."
Aurora looked back at him.
"That's not a quick death."
"No, it isn't. But it's poetic. The three-blood dies in the same river that's been the lifeblood of New Orleans for centuries."
Aurora looked down at the water again. The current was strong here. Fast. Even with her supernatural strength, she might not be able to fight it.
But if she jumped, Marcus would live. Sarah would live.
Is that enough?
Aurora thought about her parents. About the justice she had wanted for ten years. If she died now, Vincent would win. He would get away with murder.
But Marcus would be alive to continue the investigation. To find the other conspirators.
Maybe that would have to be enough.
Aurora took off her leather jacket and let it drop onto the pier.
"Any last words?" Vincent asked.
"Yes." Aurora looked back at him. "Marcus is going to kill you for this."
"We'll see."
Aurora closed her eyes and jumped.
The fall seemed to last forever. Then the dark water of the Mississippi closed over her head.
The current was even stronger than she had expected. It pulled her under immediately, dragging her away from the pier. Aurora fought to surface, but the river had her.
Swim. You have to swim.
But the water was so cold. So dark. Aurora could feel her strength leaving her as the current carried her downstream.
She surfaced once, gasping for air, and saw the pier in the distance. Saw Vincent's wheelchair silhouetted against the sky.
Saw Marcus break free from the crate and run toward the edge of the dock.
Then the current pulled her under again.
This time, Aurora couldn't fight her way back to the surface.
I'm sorry, Marcus. I'm sorry I couldn't save us both.
The river claimed her, and everything went black.
Marcus dove into the Mississippi River without thinking.
The water was shockingly cold. The current was brutal. But none of that mattered.
Aurora was in there somewhere. Drowning. Dying.
And it was his fault.
Marcus had walked into Vincent's trap like an amateur. Had let himself be captured. Had forced Aurora to make an impossible choice.
Find her. You have to find her.
Marcus swam downstream, following the current. His werewolf senses were muted by the water, but he could still catch traces of Aurora's scent.
She had surfaced briefly about fifty yards from the pier. But that had been minutes ago.
How long can she hold her breath? How long before it's too late?
Marcus dove under again and again. Searching. Calling her name when he surfaced.
But the Mississippi was dark and vast. And Aurora was small and hurt and probably unconscious.
After an hour, other wolves arrived. Marcus's pack, responding to his emergency signal. They spread out along the riverbank, searching.
But they found nothing.
"Marcus," called his beta, Luke. "The current's too strong. She's probably miles downstream by now."
"Keep looking!"
"The water's too cold. If she's been under this long..."
"Keep looking!"
But Marcus knew Luke was right. No one could survive an hour in the Mississippi River. Not even a three-blood.
Aurora was gone.
Marcus swam back to the pier where Vincent was waiting. His uncle was still sitting in his wheelchair, watching the search with satisfaction.
"Where is she?" Marcus demanded.
"Where you'll never find her. The river has claimed your mate, nephew."
Marcus hauled himself out of the water and walked toward Vincent's wheelchair. His golden eyes were blazing with fury.
"You killed her."
"I eliminated a threat to our family."
"She wasn't a threat! She was..."
Marcus couldn't finish the sentence. What had Aurora been to him? A stranger he had met three days ago? A childhood memory?
No. She had been more than that.
She had been his mate. His other half. The person his soul had been searching for without knowing it.
And now she was dead.
"I'm going to kill you," Marcus said quietly.
"No, you're not. Because despite everything, I'm still your uncle. Still family. And you don't kill family."
Vincent was wrong.
Marcus shifted into his wolf form without warning. Seven feet of pure black fury launched itself at the wheelchair.
But Vincent was ready for him.
The old man pulled a silver-tipped spear from the side of his chair and drove it into Marcus's shoulder.
Marcus roared in pain and collapsed on the pier. The silver burned like acid in his flesh.
"I've had ten years to prepare for this moment," Vincent said calmly. "Did you think I wouldn't plan for every contingency?"
Vincent pulled out a pistol loaded with silver bullets.
"I'm sorry it has to end this way. But you've become too attached to the three-blood. Too compromised to lead our family properly."
Vincent aimed the gun at Marcus's head.
A gunshot echoed across the water.
But it wasn't Vincent who fired.
The old man slumped forward in his wheelchair, a hole in the back of his skull.
Behind him stood Sarah Whitmore, holding a smoking pistol.
"I really hate being tied up," she said calmly.
Sarah helped Marcus pull the silver spear from his shoulder. The wound healed slowly, but it healed.
"How did you escape?" Marcus asked.
"Vincent's people underestimated me. I've been planning for supernatural threats longer than they've been alive."
Marcus looked out at the dark water of the Mississippi.
"Aurora's gone."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Marcus walked to the edge of the pier where Aurora had jumped. Her leather jacket was still lying on the wooden planks. He picked it up and held it against his chest.
It still smelled like her. Like roses and rain and something indefinably Aurora.
"She saved my life," he said quietly.
"She saved both our lives."
"And I let her die for it."
Sarah put a hand on Marcus's shoulder.
"Aurora made her choice. She chose to protect the people she cared about."
"I should have been faster. Should have broken free sooner."
"You did everything you could."
Marcus looked down at the jacket in his hands. At the dark water that had taken his mate.
"I loved her," he said. The words came out broken. Raw.
"I know."
"I barely knew her for three days, and I loved her."
"That's what mate bonds do. Time doesn't matter."
Marcus pressed his face into Aurora's jacket and let himself grieve. For the first time since he was a child, he cried.
Great, shaking sobs that came from the depths of his soul. For Aurora. For the life they would never have. For the love he had found too late.
When the tears finally stopped, Marcus looked up at the blood moon rising over New Orleans.
"I'm going to find everyone who was involved in this," he said quietly. "Everyone who helped Vincent. Everyone who wanted her dead."
"What then?"
Marcus's golden eyes went hard as stone.
"Then I'm going to kill them all."
He clutched Aurora's jacket tighter against his chest and made a promise to her memory.
I will avenge you. I will make them all pay.
I swear it on my life.
The Mississippi River flowed on, dark and indifferent, carrying its secrets toward the sea.
Somewhere in those black waters lay the body of Aurora Nightshade. The three-blood. The woman who had been his mate for exactly three days.
The woman Marcus Blackwood would love for the rest of his life.
Even if that life no longer had any meaning without her in it.
End of Chapter 5