The Villains Must Win

"Yes. And your people have been using her. Farming her. Making super soldiers."

Lucian's face flickered in her mind. That damn smirk of his . . . the way he never flinched in battle.

Salister's eyes began to glow, faintly red. "The organization you serve is drinking her dry. And when I get her back . . . I'll destroy every last traitor who laid hands on her."

"And . . . I'm supposed to do this rescue mission for you. Just like that."

"Yes."

Selis crossed her arms. "And what? You promise not to kill everyone afterward? You'll just walk away, call off the vampires, maybe write a thank-you card?"

"I'll spare the innocent," he said. "You included."

"Oh wow. What a generous offer," she muttered. "Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he said simply. "But you should trust a vampire's word more than a human's. You should know that by now."

Selis exhaled slowly. "Man, I really should've stayed in bed today."

"You don't have choice her human."

"Selis."

"Either you die, or you bring Emerald back to me," Salister said with finality, eyes glowing faintly red in the dim light. "I think you know which choice gives you a tomorrow."

Selis blinked. "I don't know . . . you're a vampire."

"And your point?" Salister's tone was sharp. "We lived in peace for centuries. It was your kind—the humans—who broke that peace. You wanted power. Power beyond your grasp. And so you stole it."

"Okay," she said, hands half-raised in defense. "That's your side of the story."

"It's the truth," he snapped. "And now, you have the chance to fix what your people ruined."

"By infiltrating one of the most heavily guarded facilities in the world, stealing back your magical girlfriend, and risking my life in the process?"

He bared his fangs in what might've been a smirk. "Correct."

Selis inhaled sharply. "That's insane."

"Yet it is the only reason you're still alive." He took a step back into the shadow. "I will give you time to think. But I will return for your answer."

"Wait! I still have like, twenty-seven questions!"

But Salister was already gone—he and his vampire entourage vanishing like smoke into the mist, their cloaks sweeping behind them as if mocking her with their dramatic flair.

Selis let out a long, slow breath. "Dang it," she muttered under her breath. "At least help me come up with a solid excuse for why I'm the only one left in my squad . . ."

She turned and surveyed the carnage. Scorched earth, shattered weapons, and the lifeless bodies of her team. Some were mangled beyond recognition. The rest were just . . . still. And she was the only one left standing.

Great. Just great.

What was she supposed to say? That a powerful vampire lord dropped by and offered her a job instead of a death sentence? That he wanted her to play vampire courier and deliver his missing ancient love back to him like a pizza?

Yeah, no. That would go over well. They'd burn her at the stake faster than she could say, "Not it."

She was just a newbie. A fresh recruit with less than three weeks in the field. No background, no medals, and now she was the sole survivor of a high-risk mission.

That didn't look suspicious at all.

In fact, if the higher-ups even caught a whiff of her conversation with Salister, they'd brand her a traitor—just like the others who'd allied with vampires for money, power, or both. She'd be executed before she could explain herself.

Selis wandered further through the battlefield, eyes scanning for anything useful. Most of the vampire corpses had already turned to ash, but one remained—partially intact, disintegrating slowly as dawn approached.

"Perfect," she murmured bitterly.

She grit her teeth and stabbed herself with one of the vampire's sharp, obsidian-like claws. Then she drag it across her forearm to create a nasty gash. The pain was sharp, real, and grounding.

Then she fell to the ground and let unconsciousness take her—faking it, at least.

It would be sunrise soon. The brigade would send out scouts to investigate when her squad failed to report back.

She could only hope that when they found her, the scene would be convincing enough. That her wound would tell the right story.

That she'd live long enough to decide what to do with the vampire lord's impossible request.

Because now that she saw a path out of death in this chaotic world, a whole new problem was clawing at her gut:

Would surviving even matter . . . if it meant betraying her own kind?

====

"What happened?"

That was the first thing Selis heard upon waking—followed by the low growl of a voice she recognized too well.

Lucian.

Her eyes fluttered open, only to be met by his cold glare. His face was stone, carved from irritation and seriousness.

Great. No time to prepare. No time to fake a dramatic story.

"Is that really how you greet someone who just crawled back from the edge of death?" she rasped, voice hoarse.

Lucian didn't even blink. "Your wounds are shallow," he said flatly. "Barely enough blood lost to knock out a rookie."

Ouch.

"And from your entire group, you're the only one who made it back alive. So I'll ask again—what happened out there?"

Selis felt the weight of his gaze pressing down like a blade to the throat. She tried to sit up, but her body throbbed in protest. Her heart raced faster than she could lie.

Think. Think!

"There was . . . a trap," she began, eyes unfocused as if trying to recall through a fog of trauma. "We were supposed to sweep a chapel ruin. Standard recon. But the moment we stepped in, they were already waiting for us. Not just strays. Organized. Fast. Too fast."

Lucian didn't interrupt. His silence felt like judgment.

"Marris tried to hold the line, but we were boxed in. We fought. I got stabbed and clawed. It was all chaos. There was a flash—some kind of spell or artifact—I don't know. I was thrown back into the wall. I must've blacked out after that." She paused, then added with a bitter smile, "I guess I was lucky I hit my head early."