BLOOD & RHYTHM

Chapter 20: The Hunter

The portraits were gone, but the room felt different now—lighter, somehow, as if the walls themselves had exhaled after centuries of holding their breath. Alexander and I stood in the empty space, his arms around me, the bond humming with a peace I'd never felt from him before.

"We should go," he murmured against my hair. "It's late. You need rest."

"In a minute." I turned in his arms, pressing closer. "I just want to stay here a little longer. With you."

He smiled—that rare, beautiful smile that transformed his entire face. "I'm not going anywhere."

We stood there for a long moment, wrapped in each other, and I felt something shift between us. Deeper now. Stronger. The bond pulsed with an intensity that made my heart ache.

Then Alexander stiffened.

"What is it?" I pulled back, searching his face. His eyes had gone distant, focused on something beyond the walls.

"Nothing." Too quick. Too smooth. "Just a noise. Probably animals in the grounds."

"Alexander—"

"I should get you home." He was already moving, guiding me toward the door. "It's late, and your mother will worry."

I let him lead me, but something gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. Through the bond, I felt... caution. Wariness. Emotions he was trying to hide.

He was lying to me.

I didn't call him on it. Not then. But I filed it away, a small knot of unease in my chest.

---

The next few days passed in a haze of music and love and the quiet contentment of simply *being* together. Alexander was more present than ever, more open, more *there*. The weight of centuries seemed to have lifted since we'd emptied that room.

But I noticed things.

The way his eyes flickered to windows at night. The way he tensed at sounds I couldn't hear. The way he sometimes stopped mid-sentence, listening to something beyond my human senses.

He was watching for something. Waiting.

He never told me what.

On the fourth night, I found out.

I'd fallen asleep in his arms—something I did more and more often now, preferring the cold comfort of his chest to my own warm bed. The fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. Alexander's arms were wrapped around me, his breath (he breathed more now, when we were together, as if my presence reminded him how) soft against my hair.

I woke to the sound of breaking glass.

My eyes flew open. Something had crashed through the window—something small and heavy, glittering in the firelight as it arced across the room.

Toward me.

Alexander moved.

One moment he was beside me, the next he was *there*, his body interposed between me and the flying object. It struck him in the shoulder and fell to the floor with a clatter.

A cross.

Silver, by the look of it, intricately worked and wickedly sharp at the tip. Where it had struck Alexander, his skin was smoking.

"Alexander!" I scrambled toward him, but he held up a hand, his eyes fixed on the broken window.

"Stay back."

"Your shoulder—"

"It will heal." But his voice was strained. "Don't touch the cross. The silver—it's poisoned. For my kind."

I stared at the object on the floor, my heart pounding. A cross. Through the window. Someone had thrown a cross into Alexander's bedroom.

Someone knew what he was.

Someone wanted him dead.

"Who—" I started.

"Markus Crane." The name was a snarl. "Get behind me, Luna. Now."

I moved, pressing myself against his back, peering over his shoulder at the shattered window. The night beyond was black, impenetrable, but I felt eyes on us. Watching.

"Markus is a hunter," Alexander said quietly. "One of the best. He's killed more of my kind than I can count. If he's here—"

"He's here for you?"

"For us." A pause. "For you, specifically. I'm just the means to an end."

Before I could ask what that meant, another cross flew through the window. This one Alexander caught, his hand closing around it despite the smoke that rose from his palm. He threw it aside with a growl.

"Show yourself, Crane!" His voice echoed through the night. "If you want a fight, have the courage to face me directly!"

Silence. Then, from the darkness, a voice—deep, calm, utterly without fear.

"I'm not here for you, vampire."

A figure emerged from the shadows outside the broken window. Tall, broad-shouldered, with silver hair cropped close and eyes that gleamed in the darkness. He carried a crossbow loaded with what I assumed were more silver bolts.

"I'm here for the girl."

My blood ran cold.

"Luna Marchetti." The hunter's eyes found me over Alexander's shoulder. "Daughter of Antonio Marchetti. The man who died protecting your kind."

"My father—" I couldn't finish.

"Your father was a fool." But there was no malice in the words. Only grief. "He believed vampires could be reasoned with. Could be saved. It cost him his life."

"You knew my father?"

"I was his partner." Markus's jaw tightened. "His best friend. And I watched him die because he trusted the wrong monster."

Alexander's body tensed against mine. "Leave. Now. Or I'll—"

"You'll what? Kill me?" Markus laughed, a cold sound. "You could try. But while you're trying, my men are surrounding this manor. Silver bullets. Wooden stakes. Holy water. We came prepared."

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

"You." Markus's eyes met mine. "Your father would want you away from these creatures. Safe. *Human*. I'm here to give you that chance."

"I'm not leaving him."

"You don't understand what he is. What they all are." Markus's grip on his crossbow tightened. "He'll use you, drain you, discard you. It's what they do. It's all they can do."

"You don't know him."

"I know his kind." Markus stepped closer to the window, close enough that I could see the lines of grief etched into his face. "I've spent thirty years hunting them. I've seen what they do to humans who trust them. I watched your father die because of that trust."

My father. Dead because of vampires. Because of creatures like Alexander.

The thought wormed into my mind, poisonous and persistent.

"Luna." Alexander's voice was soft. "Don't listen to him. Whatever he says—"

"He's right about one thing." I pulled away from him, just slightly. "You never told me about my father. You never said you knew him."

"Because I didn't. Not really. I only knew—"

"That he died protecting your kind?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "That he was killed by vampires, and you just... forgot to mention it?"

Alexander's face went pale. "I was going to tell you. When the time was right."

"When would that be? When I was in too deep to leave?" I shook my head, stepping back. "God, I'm such an idiot."

"Luna, please—"

"Don't." I held up a hand. "Just... don't."

Through the broken window, Markus watched with cold satisfaction.

"The offer stands," he said. "Come with me now. Learn the truth about your father. About what these creatures really are. About what he's already done to you."

I looked at Alexander. At the pain in his eyes, the fear, the desperate love.

I looked at Markus. At the certainty, the grief, the promise of answers.

And I didn't know what to do.