Devil at the Door

The scream still echoed in Rio’s skull.

 

He stood at the swamp’s edge, golden eyes burning against the moonlight shimmering off black water. The air stank of rot and moss. Somewhere beyond the cypress veil, Junie was being dragged deeper into hell.

 

Odessa slipped on her gloves with slow precision, her voice soft but sharp.

“You’re thinking of charging in. Don’t.”

 

Rio didn’t answer. His jaw worked. His fists clenched until his knuckles popped.

 

“You rush in, Cassian will tear her apart just to spite you.” She stepped closer, her perfume slicing through the swamp’s decay like a blade through silk. “We do this smart. Quiet.”

 

The night hissed with cicadas and the far-off croak of frogs.

 

Rio met her gaze. “Then show me.”

 

 

 

They moved like ghosts—no sound but the wet thud of their boots on swampy earth. Mist clung low, curling around roots like pale, grasping fingers. The deeper they pushed, the colder it became.

 

Cassian’s lair loomed ahead—an old plantation house half-swallowed by the mire. Its once-grand columns leaned like broken bones. The windows stared out, dark and hollow. The air vibrated faintly with something… unnatural.

 

A red glow pulsed inside. Slow. Steady. Like a heartbeat.

 

Odessa threw a hand against Rio’s chest.

“Listen.”

 

Laughter echoed. Muffled sobs. The wet sound of flesh on flesh.

 

“His fledglings are drunk on blood,” she said, voice barely audible. “They’ll be sloppy—but deadly if we’re seen.”

 

Rio gave a single nod.

 

 

Inside, the stench was thick—sickly sweet blood rotting on the walls. Portraits of long-dead men leered from peeling wallpaper. The house groaned around them, like it remembered every scream it had swallowed.

 

They moved like hunters. Odessa led, eyes sharp. Rio followed, blade in hand, rage tight in his chest.

 

A fledgling stumbled from a doorway, mouth slick with crimson. Before he could speak, Odessa was on him—hand over his mouth, wrist twisting. The neck snapped like wet twigs. She eased the body to the floor.

 

She grinned over her shoulder.

“See? Quiet.”

 

Upstairs, they found her.

 

Junie was chained to a rusted iron bedframe. Her skin was drained of color. Her emerald eyes were glassy, barely registering their presence. Bite marks riddled her wrists and throat—deep and ugly.

 

Rio’s breath caught.

“Junie.”

 

Her head turned, sluggish, her lips trembling.

“You—how did you—”

 

“Shh.” He was at her side, breaking the chains with a twist of his wrist. She collapsed into his arms, a ragdoll of skin and blood.

 

Odessa stood in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.

“You’ve got her. Let’s move.”

 

But the hallway spoke before Rio could.

 

“Going so soon?”

 

The voice was syrupy and slow, thick with menace.

 

Cassian stood at the end of the corridor. Tall. Coiled. His blood-red silk shirt clung to a lean frame like second skin. His grin gleamed under slicked-back hair. Two fledglings stood beside him, eyes glowing red like coals pulled from a dying fire.

 

Odessa hissed under her breath. “Shit.”

 

Rio pulled Junie behind him. “Let us leave. You made your point.”

 

Cassian’s fangs flashed in the dark.

“My point? Oh, child… I haven’t even started.”

 

He took a step forward, slow and elegant.

“You’ve stolen from me. Again. And now you think you can just walk out?”

 

His eyes cut to Junie. He licked his lips.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch what I do to her first.”

 

Rio’s voice went low. Controlled.

“Or maybe you let us go… and we pretend this never happened.”

 

Cassian paused. His smile twitched.

“Pretend?”

 

“You have enemies. They’re watching. Start a war over one fledgling, and they’ll come sniffing for your blood.” Rio took a single step forward. “I’m not worth that. Not yet.”

 

Silence pressed in.

 

Then—Odessa laughed. Low and smoky.

“Oh, I like this one,” she purred. “Clever. Bold. Almost makes me want to back him.”

 

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. The smile stayed, but something behind it cracked.

 

Finally, he tilted his head.

“Fine. Take your little stray. But you owe me.”

 

Rio didn’t blink. “Add it to the list.”

 

 

 

They vanished into the fog. Junie clung to Rio’s arm, shivering.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice broken.

 

“Don’t thank me yet,” he murmured. “It’s not over.”

 

Odessa walked beside them, hoops swaying in the dark. “You surprised me, sugar,” she said. “That silver tongue of yours might be deadlier than your claws.”

 

Rio didn’t respond.

 

 

 

Back at the bait shop, Junie curled on the couch, hair fanned out like copper fire. Her breathing was shallow but steady. Across the room, Rio sat in the dark, blade resting beside his boots, elbows on his knees.

 

A voice slithered through the silence.

“You’re getting attached.”

 

He didn’t look up. “I’m keeping her alive.”

 

Odessa stepped from the shadows. She leaned against the doorframe, her gold hoops catching moonlight.

 

“You’re doing more than that.”

 

Rio’s jaw clenched. “Not your call.”

 

“No,” she said softly. “But it’ll be his.”

 

 

 

The next night, Odessa found him outside, sharpening wooden stakes under a drizzling sky. Rain tapped the tin roof like impatient fingers.

 

“You’re good with your hands,” she said, smirking. “But real power? That’s upstairs.”

 

She tossed a pouch into his lap. Bone pieces rattled inside—smooth and carved with strange markings.

 

“Wards,” she explained. “A gift. For a fast learner.”

 

Rio frowned. “Why help me?”

 

Her grin curved like a knife.

“Because I want to see what you do when pushed. And maybe I like the way you move.”

 

That night, she taught him in whispers and candlelight—how to feel for another vampire’s aura, how to twist fear into a weapon. At one point, her fingers wrapped around his, adjusting the bone in his grip.

 

“You feel that?” she breathed. “That pulse? That’s power. Not hunger.”

 

The air crackled.

 

Then—

A whimper.

 

Junie stood in the doorway. Pale. Watching. Her small hands clenched the frame.

 

 

Three nights later, a knock shook the bait shop.

 

A mortal stood at the door, soaked and shaking. He handed Rio a folded note, then disappeared into the mist.

 

Rio opened it slowly.

 

“Your debt is due. A life for a life. Bring me the girl… or someone else.”

 

It smelled faintly of blood.

 

Odessa read it over his shoulder. Her voice was silk.

“Well, sugar… what’s it gonna be? Hand her over…”

 

Her eyes slid to Junie, hunched in the corner, blanket clutched to her chest.

 

“…or find a substitute?”

 

Junie whispered, “You mean… turn someone?”

 

Odessa laughed. Dark and cruel.

“Oh, cherie. You’re catching on fast.”

 

 

Later that night, Rio sat alone in the dark.

 

Junie slept close, fragile. Odessa lounged in the windowsill, smoke curling from her lips.

 

“You can’t save everyone,” she said.

 

“I’m not giving her up.”

 

Her smile faltered. Barely.

“Then someone else dies. Cassian won’t take less.”

 

Rio stared at his blade.

“Would you?”

 

She blinked. “Would I what?”

 

“Kill an innocent. To stay alive.”

 

Odessa’s gaze turned glassy. Her voice dipped low.

“Survival doesn’t ask permission, sugar. It just takes."

 

The next night, Rio stood outside a grimy bar, watching a drunk man stagger to his car.

 

Cassian’s words echoed.

A life for a life.

 

Behind him, Odessa’s voice slithered.

“You gonna do it? Drain him. Then give him your blood. Simple math.”

 

Rio stared at the man. Fingers twitching.

 

Then—

 

He heard Junie's voice, faint and breaking

“Rio… don’t.”

 

He froze.

 

One step forward.

 

And then?