by Leeah Taylor
No.
It moved to the edges of the map, forming perfectly straight lines on all four sides before flames erupted in a corner. Juliette jumped, and Damien pulled her back just as a ball of fire shot up from the charred pages at them.
“Fuck!” Hot tears blurred into her vision. “The magic in his blood must be blocking it. Or he’s blocking it. This should have worked.”
“We’ll find him, Jules,” Damien assured her, but it didn’t lessen the swell of defeat in her chest.
“And if I don’t?”
Damien turned her to face him. “We will find him and end this once and for all.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her into his chest. “I promise.”
She melted into his embrace, craving the comfort there. The woodsy spice in the center of his chest engulfed her. She could get used to a new normal with him.
An explosion echoed through Sterling, shaking the windows of the house. Juliette grabbed to the counter, stomach twisting with knots, as sirens erupted in the distance. She exchanged glances with Damien, and they bolted for the front door, racing outside, down the stone path, and into the street.
She gasped. “Oh my god.”
Thick black plumes of smoke rose above the buildings in the distance. Blaring sirens came barreling down the street, forcing them both up onto the curb, as two fire trucks flew by towards the District.
Damien dragged her over to his truck and yanked open the driver door. “Get in.”
She did, sliding across to the passenger seat. It was Ramsey. It had to be, or Sterling had just run out of luck.
A panic bubbled up in her chest as Damien turned the corner into the District, and it was all but up in flames. Old city hall was a crater in the earth. The apartment buildings beside it were engulfed in angry, indiscriminate flames.
Juliette got out of the truck and staggered through the growing crowd of onlookers. Blocking out the murmurs and gasps. Her throat closed up. Firemen hurried in all direction.
Ramsey knows.
People spilled out of the front of the apartment building, screaming and crying. Juliette got a glimpse of Michael Kordall and sprinted towards him needing answers.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“You tell me,” he snapped at her.
“Watch your tone, Sheriff,” Damien warned. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “You know as much as I do.”
What the hell was Ramsey doing? In his rage he’d destroyed the only other altar that might have had just enough power in it to complete her mother’s spell.
“Oh my god.” Juliette pushed her fingers through her hair, turning to Damien. “What are we going to do?”
Ollie and Riley ran up behind, him out of breath.
“Have you seen Lucien and Chelsea?” Ollie asked.
Juliette’s stomach dropped, and she turned back towards the building.
“Why would we have seen Lucien and Chelsea? Why aren’t they with you?” Damien demanded.
“Lucien went with Chelsea to pack some of her things to move into the house,” Ollie forced out, catching his breath. “They left about twenty minutes ago. Please tell me you’ve seen them.”
“Son of a bitch,” Damien roared up at the building. “This can’t be happening.”
Without another thought, Juliette started towards the blaze, not even sure what she thought she could do. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think straight. A strong arm hooked around her waist and dragged her back. She fought, tooth and nail, against Damien trying to pull her away from the blaze. Begging and pleading with him. They couldn’t just let Lucien die. Not like that. She’d just gotten them back.
“Juliette,” Damien shook her hard. “Stop. Please.”
She pushed him. “He’s your brother.”
“And I won’t let you die for him.”
“Why? He’d do the same for me. For you.”
“Why? Are you seriously asking me that?” he yelled. “We’re going to make this a thing right now.”
“Yes.”
Ollie reached for her. “Jules...”
How could they be giving up so easily? An explosion echoed through the District, flames shooting out of the front of the apartment buildings. Heat rose up and blazed over her skin. People scattered, screaming and crying out. Damien tucked Juliette into his chest, holding her close.
“This can’t be how it ends.”
Juliette forced back the burning hot tears in her vision and surged forward again, only partly aware of just how ridiculous she was being.
A grip around her arm, pinching the skin, jerked her back.
“Jules, no,” Damien insisted.
“He’s your brother!”
The officer’s radio just beside them caught their attention. “Found a handful of people on the second floor trapped just at the edge of the active fire. Bringing them out now. Need buses and oxygen. No burns.”
Juliette grabbed for the officer. “Ask them where!”
“Ma’am—"
“Where are they coming out?” she growled deep. “Now!”
“Wh-Wh-Where are they coming out?”
“Far end of the building at the evacuation point.”
Juliette sprinted down the street between the fire trucks, Damien and Ollie calling after her. She needed to know it was them. To see their faces and breathing. No burns. They said no burns. Please let it be them. At the end of the building, she stopped, searching faces. A handful of ambulances lined up in the parking lot across the street. She grabbed the first person in gear she laid eyes on.
“Have they brought out the people they just found on the second floor?”
He pointed towards one of ambulances. “Getting checked out now.”
She could barely breathe, darting across the street to the parking lot. Juliette checked the first ambulance and found a couple of kids and a mother. Oxygen masks. The paramedics regarded her oddly. Shit, my eyes. She sucked in a soothing breath to calm down.
“People that just came out?”
“Next bus.” They pointed.
She made it to the back of the next ambulance and whimpered. He was covered in black ash, and his white shirt was singed. Lucien shoved the hands of an insistent paramedic with an oxygen mask away while he knelt in front of Chelsea, making sure she kept her mask on. The dangling legs of three kids lined up next to her. She both hated him and loved him in that moment.
Her bottom lip wobbled. “Thank god.”
She didn’t wait for him to say anything. Not an explanation. Not a ‘hey, how’s it going’. Juliette crashed into his chest, squeezing him tightly the moment he stood up.
He kissed the top of her head, holding her back just as tight. “I’m fine, Jules.”
“What happened? Figured one brother getting blown up wasn’t enough?” Damien asked behind her. “This one was ready to go in after you.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Lucien said.
Lucien settled down in front of the three kids and pointed up at the paramedic.
“You’re going to go with him, and he’ll help you find your mom? Okay?” He turned to the young medic. “Their mom would have been with the group before us. Take them, please.”
“Had to play hero on the way out too?” Juliette asked as she watched the three little boys, sniffling and whimpering, go with the paramedic.
Chelsea pulled the oxygen mask away and gave Lucien a side eye. “Would you expect anything less from him?”
“We were on our way out when the Hall exploded.” Lucien put the mask back over her face with a pointed look. “Leave it on. That side of the building went up in flames just like that. The screaming...” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Children crying out for help. I couldn’t...”
The words died in the space between them, but the somber, haunted look he gave said it all.
“Just grateful you’re okay,” Juliette said.
“This was Ramsey,” Damien said. “You know that.”
Lucien nodde
d. “Yeah, I know.”
“You!”
Juliette’s head fell back, facing the sky when she heard the old woman’s voice, wishing like all hell she’d just die already.
Could this day get any worse?
“This is all your fault!” Louisa came out of nowhere, hair disheveled and an accusatory finger pointed at Juliette. “This city had been nothing but peaceful until you came back.”
Juliette gritted her teeth and balled her hands at her side. “You have no right.”
“I have every right,” she roared. “The secondary Elders are dead because of you.”
“Good, maybe some real changes can be made.”
Louisa reared back and slapped her hard. A sting spread over her cheek, and she fell back wide-eyed, holding to the spot.
“Their blood is on your hands,” Louisa spat. “And you mock their deaths as some victory.”
Damien moved in front of Juliette. She stood frozen with anger churning slowly into a boiling thirsty rage.
“Leave,” he demanded.
“Protecting your vampire whore...”
Damien’s hand shot up and closed around the woman’s throat. “I would choose my words very carefully,” his commanded, tone darkening. “She is your Regent.”
Louisa struggled to pull his hand free. “Kill me and there will be no community to regent.”
Juliette moved around Damien, locking eyes with Louisa. “I may be a vampire whore, but at least the vampires have been what the witches failed to be. My family. Strike me again, and I’ll kill you myself.”
Damien let the woman go with a shove. “Leave, now.”
Louisa straightened. “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, it was over the minute you branded me,” Juliette said.
Juliette | 30
She stood at the head of a long conference table in the room across from the office in Juleps. It felt smaller than it should. Abstract paintings hung on the walls that were more Lucien’s taste than Damien’s. They lacked vibrancy and color.
The old city hall was a complete loss. It was a small miracle the high-rise apartments had just barely survived. The city, the Frosts, would see to all the repairs and rebuilding. She didn’t care about any of it, only that her family was safe. Unharmed. Alive.
“Hey,” Damien said, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed, “you okay?”
“This is just all really intimidating.”
“But you’re doing great.”
“What’s the count up to from the fires?” she asked but didn’t want the answer.
“Seven including the Elders,” he said.
“And Chelsea?”
Damien waved it off. “Lucien insisted she go to the hospital, but she’ll be okay.”
“He looks happy.”
Damien dropped his arms as he crossed the room to her. “He is, Jules. More than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Good.” She swallowed. “He deserves to be loved, and I always knew Chelsea was the one to give it to him.”
“Ya know, Ollie and I have bets going. I say we’ll see a ring by Christmas. He’s says New Years.”
“Really? Well, count me in. Let’s say, fifty bucks?” That she didn’t really have.
His face lit up, and he nodded. “And?”
“And you buy me a new car.”
“Prediction?”
“By the Fourth of July gala.”
“No way.”
“Definitely.”
“And if you lose?” he crossed his arms. “Because you’re going to.”
“You get your chance,” she said without even thinking about it. Too late now. “But I’m not going to lose.”
His eyes went wide. “You’re serious?”
“Yep.”
So too late.
“Then I’m getting my chance because you’re going to lose.”
Lucien walked through the door with a smile plastered across his face.
“You all lost; I already asked her.” He dropped into the chair on the opposite end of the table.
“What?” Damien and Juliette screeched.
When?” Damien asked.
Lucien kicked his feet up on the edge of the table, a smile still stretched from ear to ear. “Couple days before the barrier came down. We were just waiting for the Gala to announce it.”
“So…” She turned to Damien, smug. “About my car?”
“You didn’t win.”
“I was the closest.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“It totally counts. Closest to the pin.”
“No way.”
Chelsea walked in, over to Lucien, and sat down.
She giggled. “Must have told them they lost their bet.”
“Yep.” Lucien leaned back. “It’s actually quite entertaining.”
Juliette crossed her arms over her chest. “Closest to the pin. Tell him, Lucien.”
Lucien laughed. “I’m not getting in the middle of that.”
“No car,” Damien said.
“I’m getting a car.”
“My chance?”
“You lost.”
“So did you.”
Lucien groaned. “Just say the words already. Geez.”
“I...” Damien glanced at Juliette, and her brow went up. “No.”
Now he was just being stubborn.
“Fine, don’t.” Juliette took her place at the head of the table. “You’re just salty you lost.”
“I am not salty.”
“About what?” Ollie dropped into a seat next to her, and Riley took her place next to Ollie.
Nobody in the room protested when she did. I hope she realizes running isn’t an option anymore.
Damien rolled his eyes. “Lucien already popped the question, and Jules got in with a late bet and thinks closest to the pin goes.”
“Aww, congratulations.” Riley practically swooned.
“Well, I mean, it does kinda count,” Ollie said.
Juliette shot a finger at Damien. “Told you.”
“No car.”
“I already bought her a car. It’s coming from Eddington. Should be here tomorrow afternoon,” Lucien said.
Juliette stuck her tongue out at Damien.
“Do it again, I dare you,” he warned but didn’t hide the amusement in his eyes.
Heat prickled into her cheek. “Not giving you the satisfaction.”
“Hmm, indeed,” Damien taunted.
“I’m not the one who pulled away last night.”
She caught the heat of his glare. Her stomach fluttered, and she swallowed hard.
Lucien chuckled from the end of the table, and Ollie lost it earning him a slap to the back of the head. It only made him laugh harder.
“That mouth of yours, Luv, will get you in deeper than you’re ready for,” Damien promised in a low, dark voice that made her clench her legs together. Oh my god, do you promise?
Michael stormed into the room, killing their moment, grumbling and red in the face. “I need some sort of explanations.”
“Cliffnotes version?” Ollie asked. “Big bad new hybrid slid into town, tearing down our pretty barrier on the way in, stole Mommy Marquis’ grimoire for a powerful spell to turn him into what Juliette is but better, no offense Doll, so he can kill us, his half-brothers, and along the way decimated Val Valena with me and Jules in it. That about cover it?” He looked around the table. “Oh, and almost burned the District to the ground when he found out Rebecca is dead.”
“That about covers it,” Damien agreed.
Michael was holding his head in his hands, leaning against the table, and looked like it was about to explode.
“Half-brothers?” he asked, not bothering to lift his head. “Where the hell did y’all pick up a brother?”
“Donor daddy was Adrian Night. Ramsey’s father,” Damien said.
“The one you killed?” Michael asked.
“Took his head clean off.” Lucien sat back, smug.
; “That’s just great. My city is getting torn apart over some bullshit sibling rivalry?” Michael said, raising his voice.
Juliette glared at him. “It’s not your city.”
“I beg your pardon?” Michael glared back.
“Sterling is not your city. It belongs to the Kings of Sterling. Always has. Always will,” she said.
“Witches would have something to say about that,” Michael challenged.
“I am the witches, and I say it belongs to the Kings.” She leaned back.
He ground his teeth, the sound grating over her ears. “So what’s being done to handle Ramsey then?”
Juliette sighed. “I can’t track him.”
Michael shook his head, anger etched in his expression. “Not acceptable.
“I’ve tried, okay? The last time almost set fire to the kitchen.”
“My kitchen?” Lucien growled.
“No, the neighbor’s kitchen, Lucien.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, our kitchen.”
“What are you people good for?” Michael said.
“Stop while you’re ahead, Sheriff,” Ollie warned.
“Maybe we should cancel Fourth of July Gala tomorrow,” Chelsea suggested, and it gained her the entire table’s attention. “It’s just an idea.” She held her hands up.
Juliette considered it. She knew what the event meant to the city. Even more to her. It was her favorite.
“No doubt the preparations have been made. Residents are looking forward to it, and the local businesses are counting on the revenue.” She half-shrugged. “Besides, I need at least one good thing this week.”
“You’re so adorable when you take charge,” Ollie huffed under his breath with his signature smirk. “Little Miss Regent.”
“Oh, so this is just all a big joke to you all,” Michael scoffed. “That’s great. While you people are up here in your royal office, the rest of us are facing very real problems. Like possible wolf attacks and fires and earthquakes.”
Damien pointed at the sheriff. “Watch your tone.”
Juliette leaned forward. “I’ve been blown up, almost died, almost lost people I love, and forced to kill someone. And I don’t take lightly to killing people. I’m sure you have it hard, putting out fires and playing dog catcher, but up here we’re facing a vampire genocide and hostile takeover of Sterling. So, if you have nothing helpful to add, then sit there pretty like the human seat is supposed to.”