My body went into the hyper-alert mode, as well as my mind. Ian heard the conversation through the phone and pushed himself off the table, looking like he was ready to kick some ass.

I pushed the door to the armoury and looked through the rows of weapons.

"They wouldn't come unarmed." Ian said, no signs of distress in his voice.

"No, but I'm pretty sure we have more weapons right now." I grabbed a couple of guns and stuffed them under my cardigan.

The biggest problem was, with all the plotting and scheming, no one actually taught me how to shoot.

"They know where we live." I mumbled, allowing myself a moment of utter panic as I threw the weapons at Ian. "You should stay here."

Ian eyed me, "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say this."

"Seriously." Once I stopped to look at him, I left panic jolting through my limbs, urging me to move. "They're probably looking for you."

"Well, they're going to find me." Ian cocked the shotgun.

"Wait, wait." I tried to ignore how hot he was holding a weapon. "You said yourself it's dangerous to lose Vilmus's trust, because of all the vamps giving you information. Are you sure you want to gamble that trust away right now?"

Ian stopped in his tracks, "I can't let you handle them alone."

My own level-headedness surprised me. I took in a deep breath and assessed our situation. Thomas managed to call me and tell me they arrived, which meant they walked through the front door. If they wanted to kill us, they'd attack in silence, or during night, or they'd at least be more subtle about it.

"Stay here." I said. "Go through the weapons and find something deadly."

Ian hesitated, "How will I know if you need me?"

I took out my phone and called him, "You'll hear."

Ian left the call on and nodded, "Alright, go. But if I hear anything amiss, I'm coming out. I don't give a shit about Vilmus's trust."

"We can't rush into this." I reminded him. "I'm sure they're reasonable men."

Ian narrowed his eyes, "Do you have wooden bullets?"

"What do you think?"

Ian offered a small smile, "Go."

With three guns stuffed in my pants and two in my hands, I left Ian in the basement. There were weapons upstairs because vamplings trained with them, but the most lethal we had was still beneath the ground.

I've decided to take the calculated risk. Vilmus had an agenda, there was a reason he was here, which meant he was somewhat rational. He would want us to stay out of his business.

By the time I've reached the backyard where the vamplings trained, tension and heat completely engulfed the air. June sun seared through the stone. Panic-caused droplets of sweat formed on my forehead. I peered through the terrace door, assessing the situation.

"Chloe..." Caiden appeared by my side, still in the house. "What's-"

"Stay inside." I commanded. "Go to the basement."

Caiden's concerned gaze searched my face, but I put a finger on my lips. The cultists might hear us if we say anything.

Caiden understood and nodded.

I glanced outside. Vamplings gathered around Thomas and William, turned in the same direction. They had a few rifles and some stakes, but their faces held no confidence. I couldn't see the cultists unless I walked out.

I took in a sharp breath and stepped through the terrace door.

And sure enough, right as the double gates to my mansion, ten cultists awaited. They were outnumbered by three. Ten of them and thirteen of us, without Ian in the basement.

But unlike my barely-fledged vamplings, these vampires were older and more experienced. It was evident in the way they stood; still, confident, terrifying. They were all dressed in pitch-black, and for the slightest moment, I pitied them. I would surely die if someone made me wear all-black in this scorching heat.

The man upfront was familiar, and I frowned as I tried to place him. His murky blue eyes scanned me and a smile gripped his lips. Then it clicked. The regular-looking fellow with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard was the guy that captured us two years ago when the cultists came for Ian.

He had one of our guards, pale and bleeding, pinned underneath his arm. He held him there casually, with barely any effort.

"Good afternoon." He spoke. "I'm sure you remember me."

"Not really." I pursed my lips. "You have one of those forgettable faces."

His smile turned upside down, "My name is Ari."

"Oh, right." I walked slowly to Thomas and handed him a gun. "One of the foot soldiers."

Ari looked at the gun and chuckled, "There is no need for this to get violent."

"You're the ones trespassing." Thomas said.

"I can legally shoot you." I added, to Thomas's disgruntled dissatisfaction.

The vamplings hid behind us. I could feel the tension rolling off them. They've never faced anything like this. Hell, their lives have never been truly threatened. We've faced the cultists and lived to tell the tale.

"Where is Ian?" Ari asked, ignoring our remarks.

"You lost him again?" I put my hand on my hip. "Sounds like you have issues with your personnel."

"Chloe." Thomas said through his teeth. "Tone it down a bit, will you?"

"Somehow," Ari approached, dragging the wounded, unconscious guard with him, "I think his betrayal has more to do with you than us."

"Or he's just not that into you." I shrugged. "Ever thought about that?"

"Hand him over." Ari pushed. "This doesn't need to get ugly."

It was time to utilize my acting skills. My gaze dropped to the ground and I sighed.

"We haven't seen him." I said. "In two years."

Ari gazed at me; his eyes turned clearer and more focused, a twitch gripped his lip as he tried to read my expression. I called forth all the emotions I've felt when I truly didn't know where Ian was and hoped they would show on my face.

"It's difficult for me to believe that."

"We haven't seen Ian." William jumped in, and the vampire's protruding eyes settled on him, allowing me a moment to breathe. "We've been looking for him for two years with no luck. Where is he?"

For a moment, Ari seemed genuinely confused, but then he sniffed the air.

Fucking vampires and their enhanced sense of smell.

"I know he's here." Ari said. "This entire house smells of him."

My mind jumped to the phone in my back pocket. Ian could hear this conversation and if I didn't do something quickly, he'd come rushing to our rescue and give himself away.

"Chloe took all his stuff." Thomas shrugged as casually as possible, but the twitch in his muscles was too apparent. I hoped the cultists would ascribe it to him feeling threatened. "You've never collected the stuff from his apartment, so we took it. That must be why."

Ari let out a laugh, "In that case, you wouldn't mind if we searched the house?"

If he entered the house, he would have to separate from his minions. Or he'd have to drag them along, in which case, it would be easier to fight them. We knew this house, we knew all the secret passageways.

"Not at all." I brushed his question off, trying to manage my micro expressions. "You're not going to find anyone inside."

Except for Ian. And Caiden. And-

My face muscles strained as I kept my expression neutral. As casually as possible, I glanced over our little group. Where the fuck was Sheila?

"Let's call this an admirable effort." Ari's eyes darkened. "Vilmus! I think they might need some encouragement."

My heart trashed against my chest as Vilmus finally stepped through the double gates.

He was tall, almost as tall as William, and dressed in a fine, black suit, probably a designer brand I didn't recognize. A gold watch on his hand sparkled under the sun rays when he moved. His hair was shoulder-length and chestnut brown, tied in a low ponytail on the nape of his neck. His almond-shaped, hazel eyes appeared gentle and deep. He oozed elegance, confidence and immortality.

Ian said he used to be a lord. It was apparent in his mannerisms and movements. He did not walk, he glided across the stone steps to the lawn with his head high. He looked like a man used to the crowds parting when he entered the room.

Nothing about him screamed evil.

Well, except the wickedness in his smile.

"Good afternoon." He spoke in a heavy, unfamiliar accent. His voice was deep and rich and rumbling. "I apologize for the inconvenience my employers may have caused. We've been a bit... restless, which I'm sure you can understand and sympathize with."

When his eyes landed on me, I understood the appeal. I couldn't bring myself to talk, I couldn't even come up with a snarky comment. A sense of charisma and omnipotence lingered around him, pulling us in, assuring us he wasn't a bad guy. A young, impressionable vamp could quite easily find themselves attracted to his aura.

I swallowed the forming lump in my throat.

"Ian isn't here." William's demeanour changed, allowing me to see the possible third persona he sometimes inhabited.

The William I knew was a glitter-obsessed, eccentric, Abba fan. Sometimes, he turned into a dangerous, serious predator. Right now, as he approached Vilmus, he looked like he could be his buddy from another life. Elegant, royal, aristocratic.

"This can go one of two ways." Vilmus unclasped the golden watch and handed it to one of his minions. "Ian can walk out now. We will resolve this peacefully over a glass of lemonade. After all, the sun is scorching and I'd much rather talk calmly in the shade."

None of us said anything.

"Or," Vilmus pulled up the sleeves of his suit, revealing his pale, elegant hands, "Ian doesn't step out and I begin murdering you one by one. Let me assure you, the latter is most definitely not what I want to do. And don't try to fool me, for your own sake, because I can smell him."

Before I could think or say anything, Ian walked out of the house with a shotgun.

Goddammit, I cursed inwardly.

"Ah, Ian." Vilmus's shoulders relaxed and his lips widened into a weirdly genuine grin. "I knew you were a smart man."

"I'm here." Ian stood next to me. "Talk."

Panic gripped my veins. There was no fucking way I'd lose him again to his ancient fucker, even if it meant I'd have to rip their throats out one by one. He might have a golden watch, but I had Jimmy Choo heels and I wasn't afraid to use them.

Even Vilmus's smirk seemed elegant.

"See, this situation hardly seems fair." He spoke. "You've got all these weapons pointed at me and I find firearms quite crude. My men only use stakes."

Ian laughed, "Don't make me expose you as a liar."

Vilmus placed his hand over his heart. "Cross my hear and hope to die."

"He's right." Ari's eyes narrowed. "Not quite fair."

"No." Vilmus shook his head and cracked his finger. "Perhaps it is time to level the playing field."

His eleventh minion appeared, his hand clasped around the collar of Sheila's shirt.