The Blood of the Soul

Ephialtes

A/N: Yes! You're finally getting a Liam POV. You might have one more, too.

TW: mentions of and flashbacks to childhood trauma/abuse.

Liam was seriously starting to regret ever coming back to NYC.

He'd come for answers.

He'd hoped to shed light on the darkest depths of his past.

After all, when his father died, he'd been young—too young to understand anything more than some evil, blood sucking monster had taken his father away from him. The man who'd promised to teach him everything he knew. The man who always knew what to do. The man whose moral compass was unwavering. Whose ability to hunt the demons that lurked in the night was unmatched.

Liam hadn't expected to learn that not all of them were quite as monstrous as he'd been originally thought.

Central Park was eerily silent, and Liam had a pretty good idea as to why. He'd taken to randomly switching up his schedule the day of so that Theo couldn't let all of his vampire buddies know the coast was clear.

New York City didn't have an infestation exactly, they had about the same demonic population as his hometown, but they were bold here. They took what they wanted when they wanted it, and even though Theo hadn't come right out and said it, Liam was fairly certain that the Dread Doctors practically ran this city.

His regret about returning to the city he'd been raised in had nothing to do with the vampire power dynamics and everything to do with one particular vampire with dark green eyes and an affinity for protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.

Liam still wasn't entirely sure what had stopped him that one night in the warehouse two weeks ago. Theo had broken their truce, and even though Liam had every intention of snatching the crossbow he'd strapped between his shoulder blades and sending an arrow through the vampire's chest—he hadn't been able to make himself do it. Maybe it was Mia's fondness for him. Maybe it was the fact that he'd just saved a few dozen kids. Maybe it was the conflict that had swirled behind Theo's eyes.

After the story that Theo had told him about how he'd been turned, Liam could hate Theo all he wanted, but it would never rival how much Theo despised himself. Maybe that was why Liam hadn't felt compelled to hunt him over these past two weeks, either.

The scent of something burning, something that vaguely reminded him of sage or rosemary, had him crinkling his nose, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

Before he could question it, unmistakable slurping noises filled the air and Liam's hair stood up on end. He rounded a corner and plunged his stake into the vampire's back, twisting until it pierced the creature's heart. He flung him away from the man.

"Get home." Liam turned the man toward the nearest street. "It isn't safe here after dark."

The man nodded and stumbled off in a daze.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, but he didn't pocket his stake. An instinct that stemmed from deep within his bones, his very cells, told him to keep his weapon ready.

Yet, no rustle came from the nearby bushes. The rest of the park seemed thoroughly empty, so why was adrenaline crackling beneath his skin?

A vicious snarl had Liam whirling just in time to kick away a charging vampire, but the creature was quick. He advanced again, flinging himself at Liam. He dodged and shoved the vampire away—would have, except that the goddamn creature gripped onto his jacket and threw him off balance.

Liam's back slapped against the hard ground and air expelled from his lungs in such a rush that stars peppered his vision. The stake slipped out of his hands as the vampire landed on top of him.