Anthony

The car cabin quickly filled with the thick cigar smoke from Theodor's unpleasant habit. Admittedly, I enjoyed a good cigar myself, even a cigarette now and then. But my ex husband's chain-smoking had always gotten on my nerves. With a snort, I pressed the button to lower the passenger window and continued staring blankly ahead. 

"Want to talk about it?" came an amused voice from the driver's seat. 

"No," I replied curtly, making it clear that further questions were unwelcome. However, he ignored my tone entirely and spoke again, much to my irritation. 

"Trouble in paradise?" 

With a sigh, I closed my eyes and debated whether it was worth torturing him for that comment, but I reminded myself that I was different now. That time was behind me. 

"You seem happy. Relaxed, even," he chuckled after exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. "Hell, you've been smiling." 

"One more word, and I'll beat you," I muttered, though the empty threat was obvious to both of us. 

"What are you afraid of?" he persisted, and his directness threw me off for a moment. 

"I am not your husband anymore, so why this sudden interest in my feelings?"

He shrugged, resting his head on the headrest, and mumbled tiredly, "I'll always care about you. You're my creator after all."

 "But?" 

"No buts. I just want this to last, Anthony—not just some fleeting moment of balance for a year or two." He paused, fiddling with the steering wheel. "The years without you were tough as hell. I just want some peace for a while, to enjoy life." 

"Hand over the responsibility, you mean," I replied with a bitter smile. 

"It was never mine to begin with." 

"I know," I interrupted. "I don't blame you." 

Clocksworth glanced at his phone before tossing it into the cupholder beside him. "I thought you wanted the same thing." 

"I do." 

"But you're scared?" 

I sighed and shook my head. "Of course, I'm scared. I know who I was back then, and I know what's required of me to reclaim what I had." 

"I'm sure Dominic understands. He's smarter than you think." 

"I know exactly who he is, Theodor. And I know who he was in Paris. He was a younger version of you. He does what he has to, and he's good at it too. So, I'm not worried about him." 

"If you're afraid of who you'll become, then why not give Nico more power? You could step back and live off your name." 

I bit my lip. I had considered it, but I refused to let him do the dirty work like Lumiere had demanded. "Our marriage is different, Theodor. We're equals. I won't hide just because I'm unstable." 

When he turned his gaze to me, I saw the concern on his face. "How bad is it?" 

"I died and came back through dark magic. It leaves its marks," I answered cryptically. 

"But you can do what's necessary?" 

"Yes, but everything comes at a price. Look at Lumiere. He grew more insane as time went on."

"So, we'll be cautious." 

"Theodor," I sighed heavily, rubbing my fingers against my forehead. "I know you think I'm the solution to all your problems, but listen to me—I'm not going to sacrifice myself for France. I won't be the one to break Dominic's heart for the third time." I locked eyes with him for a moment. "Do you understand me?" 

He nodded and placed a hand on my shoulder. "If everything falls apart, we'll come back here. I can live with that. But it's worth a chance, don't you think?" 

I sighed again, muttering under my breath, "You've got too soft a heart, Theodor. Admit it—you feel guilty for leaving the crown to Lumiere and letting everything fall apart while you were gone." I studied his calm expression. "You've tried to fix it all but can't. Now I'm your last shot at redemption." 

He nodded in agreement. "Something like that." 

I raised an eyebrow in slight surprise. "I miss your fiery side." 

He chuckled. "But I prefer the softer, more loving Anthony over the old one. You've changed, and it looks good on you." 

A furious shiver ran through me, but relief soon replaced it when the back door opened and Dominic jumped into the car. "Everything's set," he said, dropping a bundle of papers and two passports onto my lap. "We can leave tomorrow if we want." 

"Good," I replied with an icy smile. "Theodor, if you'd be so kind as to contact Julienne and let her know we'll be paying Lucas one last visit tonight." 

Clocksworth nodded before starting the engine. "Time to pack your bags, boys."

Dominic

How many years had it been since I held a gun in my hand? It felt unusually heavy, but the sensation was all too familiar. A handful of years wasn't long enough, I groaned as I ran through the hallway, opening door after door to see if the rooms were empty or not. 

 Julienne had betrayed us, but I wasn't surprised; family was important to vampires, but power was the driving force behind everything. She probably thought she had the chance to make herself stronger. But she was wrong; no one was going to kill those I loved. No one. 

 An insignificant lackey came rushing at me, and I lifted the gun, a silver bullet soon piercing his shoulder and another in his forehead. I jumped over the body and slammed open the next door, the room soon adorned with splatters of blood and the smell of death, but it struck me that the enormous house was uncomfortably empty. 

 Anthony had taken the main entrance with Clocksworth, blissfully unaware of the betrayal. I, Conor, and Belmont took the back route, just in case they needed backup. And they needed it; it had barely been ten minutes before Clock texted: She told him everything. 

 At that moment, we had split up to clear the upper floor, but in the heat of the moment, when I heard distant gunshots, I fucking regretted it. If my hallway was this deserted, what did Belmont's and Conor's look like? I paused and hesitated; should I turn back? What if they were ambushed, or worse? I bit my lower lip and squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds before my feet turned, and my body started running in the opposite direction. 

 They weren't actually that far off, but it felt like my legs were moving through syrup; in slow motion, as if I were stuck in a nightmare. A thousand thoughts raced through my head, and I struggled to stay calm. 

 "Belmont?!" I yelled down the empty passage, and I didn't give a damn if anyone heard me. 

 Two seconds later, his head peeked out from behind a doorframe. "Yes?" 

 I let my body relax and gave him a small smile. "Is it empty?"

 "Desolate," the wolf replied as he stepped out from behind him. 

 I ran my fingers through my hair and frowned. "Weird, isn't it?" 

 Belmont nodded as he strolled towards me. "Time to go downstairs?" 

 I switched magazines with a click before looking up at him. "Are you ready?" 

 He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. "Stop treating me like a kid." 

 "Stop sounding like one then," I grinned and walked past him to head for the stairs. 

 When we got down, we were greeted by a large welcoming hall leading to the room with grotesque decor. We stepped over bodies and puddles of blood along the way, and I realized that Clock and Anthony were a deadlier team than most. 

 "There are over twenty bodies down here," Conor mumbled as he looked around. "They were waiting for us." 

 "No wonder it was empty up there," I muttered, placing my hand on the doorknob and casting a glance at Bel, who gave me a brief nod in response. 

 The scene before us was expected; Julienne stood with her back to me, holding a machine gun that looked far too big and heavy for her small frame. My husband stood face to face with Lucas, who grinned with victory in his eyes and had Clocksworth's neck in a firm grip. 

 I heard Belmont gasp behind me, but I didn't have time to think. The gun barrel quickly slid up against her skull, and various substances splattered across my face. The stains on my white shirt would never come out. A pair of surprised eyes looked up at me as the female body fell to the floor, but three seconds later, the expression changed to pain as another shot found its mark, and the death grip on Clocksworth's throat went limp. 

 "We were discussing," Anthony muttered as he turned around to look at me. 

 "I see that," I replied, "but I don't have the patience for diplomatic conversations, darling," I muttered, reaching for a flowing curtain to wipe my face. 

 Anthony studied me with a smile before moving forward to search the body's pockets. "Take what we need," he instructed Clock, who nodded, and Conor immediately dragged the petrified Belmont out of the room. 

 I felt my friend's eyes on me, and I knew what he was thinking. The guy that Magnus had somehow managed to love back to life, the empty, cold, emotionless Dominic, he was back, and I welcomed him. 

With a sigh, I looked around the room and couldn't help but tear down a couple of the black-painted human skulls from the shelves, sending bone dust flying. 

 "Are you done?" Anthony chuckled, taking my chin between his fingers. 

 I shrugged and met his intense gaze. "Burn it." 

 He raised an eyebrow but gave me a slight nod. "As you wish."

I stood across the street, my eyes locked onto the inferno consuming the old building. Flames licked hungrily at the structure, dancing in fiery hues of orange and red, while thick, black smoke twisted into the night sky, curling like ghostly fingers reaching for the stars. The heat radiated from the blaze, making the air shimmer and crackle, as if the very atmosphere was alive with chaos.Distant sirens wailed, a haunting reminder of the chaos unfolding around me. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on my face, illuminating the worry etched deep in my brow. A strange mix of emotions washed over me—fear, anger, and a deep sense of relive—as memories of the place flooded back. My heart raced as I watched the firefighters scramble to control the blaze, their figures silhouetted against the fiery backdrop, moving with urgency and purpose. The building might be gone, but what it stood for would linger, like the smoke curling upwards, slowly dissipating into the night sky.

"I'm sorry."

I jumped at his sudden presence and cast a quick glance at him before I chuckled and lit a cigarette. "For what?"

"For everything you are forced to do." His words struck me straight in the soul. Damn you, Belmont, I thought, how do you always manage to make me feel this way? My life was good now, perfectly fine. Why did you have to come and mess it all up again? But I pushed the feeling aside and played it cool.

"Don't worry about me; you've probably got other things to handle," I mumbled, downing the drink in one go.

"After everything you've done for me, it's my turn to worry about you," he replied earnestly, peering at the fire in front of us.

"That's Anthony's job," I responded curtly, keeping my emotions at bay as they grew stronger inside me.

"Sure," he said with a shrug, "but that doesn't mean I'll stop caring."

"There's something else bothering you," I stated, "what are you afraid of?" I asked, giving him a defiant look and furrowing my brow. "You were the one who asked me for help, and now you regret it?"

"I asked my Dominic for help, not this cold-blooded killer who does everything Anthony tells you to without thinking of the consequences."

 "What the hell, Belmont! I haven't been yours in a fucking long time!" I snapped, staring straight into his eyes. "You can't just...!" I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Anthony had no plans to go back before you arrived, so don't involve him in this!"

"Are you sure about that?" he whispered, and if I hadn't seen the genuine concern in his eyes, the question would have made me want to snap his neck.

"Stop," I whispered, but the rest of the words got stuck in my throat as rubbed my forehead. "Why do you always have to make everything so damn complicated?"

"I knew Anthony before you," he began. "I saw what he did to Clock. Can't you see what you've become?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Before you showed up at the door, my days consisted of lemon pie and cocktail parties, darling," I replied in a biting tone.

"Why do you think I'm here apologizing?" he muttered.

"Maybe it's a bit late? You should have thought about that before you called?" He looked down and nodded. After a deep breath, I ran my fingers through my hair and calmed myself, and when I opened my mouth again, I could even hear the desperate tone in my own voice. "What is this really about, Bel?"

He chewed on his lower lip and pondered for a moment before he replied, "It's about me."

I furrowed my brow and took a step forward. "Explain."

He began to nervously play with the long dark strands of his hair and spoke in a voice so low I could barely discern the words coming from his lips. "You've always been there," he whispered, "you've always been the strong one, the one who made the right decisions and pulled me out of the darkness," he took a deep breath before continuing, "you never gave up, and you never left me despite everything I did to you."

"Belmont," I interrupted in my softest voice, "where are you going with all this?"

"I can't lose you again."

"And why would you do that now? After all these years, I came when you called, didn't I?"

He nodded slightly before leaning forward to rest his forehead against my collarbone. "But you're so close to losing yourself, Nic, so close to becoming someone you don't want to be, and who's going to save me then?"

I shook my head in confusion and pulled him closer so that my arms could wrap comfortably around his waist and my chin could rest on his shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about, Bel, you can always count on me. You know that."

"I don't know, Nic, I think it's my turn to save you this time."