Colson

Teeth and Theater

Colson POV

The air felt wrong the second I left Ezra’s office.

Not hostile.

Not aggressive.

Just… aware.

Like the city had tilted slightly and was now watching to see if I’d slip.

I didn’t look behind me.

I didn’t need to.

The rhythm of footsteps half a block back told me everything.

Measured.

Not hiding.

Not quite shadowing either.

Ezra’s men wanted me to know they were there.

That was the point.

Suspicion was a leash.

I rolled my shoulders slightly and let a slow grin settle on my face.

“Alright,” I muttered under my breath. “You want a show?”

I headed toward the lower district.

The part of the city where the lights flickered more than they shone. Where the buildings leaned inward like they were conspiring. Where humans lived because they couldn’t afford not to.

The fragment pressed against my ribs.

A steady warmth.

Not hot.

Not angry.

Just present.

“Don’t get ideas,” I murmured quietly to it.

No response.

Good.

I turned down a narrow street lined with closed storefronts and boarded windows. The scent hit me immediately—alcohol, sweat, cheap cologne, blood.

Fresh blood.

My lips twitched slightly.

Three humans.

Drunk.

Loud.

One already bleeding from a split lip.

Old Colson would’ve smiled for real.

New Colson…

Still smiled.

But differently.

Because Ezra’s men had slowed their pace.

They were close enough now that they’d see whatever I did next.

Test.

Always a test.

One of the humans stumbled back and collided with me.

“Watch it, man—”

He froze.

Red eyes do that.

Fear bloomed instantly.

Sharp.

Sweet.

Addictive.

I felt the shift inside me.

That old predator instinct rising like it had never left.

I stepped forward slowly, tilting my head.

“Evening,” I said mildly.

The man swallowed hard. “We—we don’t want trouble.”

I let out a low chuckle.

“Unfortunately,” I murmured, “trouble wants you.”

I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the brick wall.

Hard.

Brick cracked.

His breath left him in a sharp gasp.

The other two froze.

One tried to run.

I moved before he took three steps.

Fast.

Violent.

I caught him mid-stride and hurled him back into the alley. He hit the pavement hard enough to bounce.

The third human swung at me.

That part always amused me.

Mortals and their confidence.

I caught his fist midair and twisted.

Bone snapped.

The scream echoed down the alley like a gift.

Ezra’s men stepped just slightly into view now.

Watching.

Judging.

Waiting.

They needed to see if I still had teeth.

If I still had cruelty.

If I still belonged to the version of myself they respected.

I grabbed the first human again and dragged him closer.

His pulse hammered against my palm.

Rapid.

Terrified.

Alive.

I leaned in slowly, brushing my nose against his neck.

“I wonder what you taste like,” I murmured.

The words felt familiar.

Too familiar.

His fear spiked.

And for a moment—

Just a moment—

I felt it.

The high.

The rush.

The memory of what it used to feel like when I fed without guilt.

Without hesitation.

Without conscience.

The fragment warmed against my ribs.

Not approval.

Not condemnation.

Just awareness.

I bit.

Clean.

Deep.

Controlled.

The venom flowed automatically.

His body went slack almost immediately as ecstasy replaced terror. His heartbeat slowed into something dreamy and compliant.

That part always disgusted me now.

How easily humans mistook violation for pleasure once venom touched their bloodstream.

The second human tried to crawl away.

I caught him by the ankle and dragged him back.

I didn’t brutalize him.

But I didn’t spare him either.

I fed enough.

Not too much.

Precise.

Efficient.

Selling the image.

The third human whimpered, clutching his broken hand.

I grabbed him too.

Fed lightly.

Enough to leave marks.

Enough to leave a story behind.

Blood coated my tongue.

Warm.

Familiar.

Tempting.

And gods help me—

For half a second, I almost let myself sink into it.

Almost let the old part of me take over fully.

Because it would be easier.

Because it would feel like slipping into warm water after years in the cold.

Because monsters don’t hesitate.

The fragment pulsed sharply.

Heat flared against my ribs.

I jerked slightly.

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath. “I know.”

I released the human and stepped back.

The alley smelled of blood and confusion and pleasure.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand slowly.

Deliberately.

Letting the image settle.

Predator.

Satisfied.

Untouchable.

I turned toward the alley entrance.

“Enjoy the show?” I called casually.

Ezra’s two men stepped forward now.

No hiding.

One of them smirked.

“Thought maybe you’d gone soft.”

I let a slow grin spread across my face, baring my fangs.

“Soft?” I echoed lightly.

I stepped closer to him.

Close enough that he could still smell the blood on me.

“You’re welcome to test that theory.”

He didn’t.

Smart.

The second vampire chuckled.

“Ezra will be pleased.”

Of course he would.

I stepped over one of the unconscious bodies and headed back toward the street.

Behind me, one of the humans moaned softly.

Alive.

Shaken.

Marked.

A rumor walking.

Good.

Fear spreads faster than corpses.

The fragment warmed again.

Not violently.

Just… present.

I adjusted my jacket as we walked.

The vampires trailed me for another block before peeling off, satisfied.

Test passed.

For now.

The second they were gone, my smile dropped.

The taste of blood lingered.

And I hated that it still tasted good.

I stopped beneath a flickering streetlight and pressed a hand to my ribs.

“You see?” I muttered quietly. “Still a monster.”

No answer.

Just that steady pulse.

I leaned back against the brick wall and exhaled slowly.

The hardest part wasn’t feeding.

It wasn’t violence.

It wasn’t even lying to Ezra.

It was how easy it was to be that version of myself again.

How natural.

How familiar.

How the city seemed to respond to it like it recognized me.

Old Colson.

Ezra’s blade.

Kendrick’s rival.

Walking death in tailored clothing.

For a moment—

I almost missed him.

And that terrified me more than the witch.

I pushed off the wall and started walking again.

Amaris was repairing the watch.

Time was still ticking.

Kendrick was suspicious.

Ezra was watching.

And I had just proven I could still be the monster they expected.

The fragment pulsed once more.

Warm.

Steady.

Waiting.

“Don’t worry,” I muttered.

“I’ll keep playing the part.”

Because until that watch was fixed—

I wasn’t just juggling lies.

I was balancing on the edge of who I used to be.

And one wrong step?

Might feel a little too good.