Chapter 6: New Job/ New Faces

Faith’s POV

I leave the café with my half-full cup of caramel goodness and decide to take a little detour to the park. I find a quiet spot under a tree and settle in with my book, The House Beyond The Gate. The warm coffee in my hand, the occasional rustle of the leaves... it should be peaceful, right? Instead, my mind refuses to cooperate.

I take a sip, letting the sweetness settle in my chest, and sigh. Who was that stranger?

I glance around, taking in the calm, almost too perfect surroundings. People are walking their dogs, a couple of kids are playing catch... all so idyllic. Too normal. It’s as if the universe is trying a little too hard to convince me that everything is perfectly fine. But, of course, my brain just has to ruin it.

So, back to that stranger. Did I give him my address? Maybe he was a friend of Dimitri’s? But no... if that were the case, I’d have heard from one of them by now. Great, so now I’m left wondering if I’ve been kidnapped by some random guy or...

I pause, tapping my finger on the cup. My mind starts spiraling into what could only be described as the worst case scenario.

Was my drink spiked? I scratch my head in thought, trying to piece together the details. I only had one drink... One drink, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve felt drunk before I ended up in some stranger’s arms. But... What if?

I groan internally. This is exactly why I don’t like going out—because my brain just refuses to let things be simple. No, it has to make everything seem like a conspiracy.

After a while, I get lost in the pages of my book, trying to drown out the worries gnawing at me, but then, of course, something shifts. The world around me feels... off. It’s too still. Too normal. Yesterday, it felt like I was living in some high-stakes thriller. Everyone in that room—everyone—was glaring at each other, like the slightest wrong move would set off an explosion. Maybe a purge. Who knows? Definitely not the kind of vibe I want to relive.

I push myself up, ready to shake off the unsettling thought, but of course, life decides to send me another curveball. My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glance down at the caller ID. Cain.

My hand twitches, a slight shake I can’t control. I quickly glance around, as if he’s going to materialize from behind a tree or something—that’s how messed up my life is now—and then, I do the classic move: take a deep breath and ignore it. I know I should pick up. I know the monster that is Cain won’t go away just because I turn my back, but right now? I’m done. Done with his games, his threats, his mind games. He can rot for all I care.

The phone stops ringing. For a split second, the world feels like it’s breathing again, like I can get through one day without the specter of Cain looming over me. Then, of course, the notification bell goes off.

I roll my eyes. Of course he texts.

‘Wherever you are, I will find you... You have no one to run to unless you want their blood on your hands.’

I read the message with the same blank expression I always use when dealing with him. This time, though, it’s accompanied by the most satisfying internal eye-roll I’ve given in a long time. Oh, Cain, you really need to get some new material. Blood on my hands? Really? You’re so creative.

Without thinking twice, I block him and every single person connected to him. Except for Georgia and my parents, of course. The last thing I need is to accidentally block someone I actually want to hear from.

And yet, deep down, I know I’m probably too late. Everyone—everyone—is involved. How could I have missed the signs? Maybe I’m just so stupidly trusting. Or maybe I’m just that good at ignoring red flags when I’m tired of seeing them.

Whatever it is, I’m over it. Over him. Over all of it.

I stand up, tossing my coffee cup into the trash, and make my way out of the park. The paranoia is creeping in now, though. I start glancing around, my neck tingling with that awful sensation you get when you feel like you’re being watched.

I try to shake it off. Get a grip, Faith, I tell myself. You’re being ridiculous.

But that doesn’t stop me from speed-walking home, checking every dark corner and alley as if Cain himself is lurking in the shadows. Yeah, maybe I am paranoid, but can you blame me? After everything, my brain has officially decided to be an anxious mess.

I finally reach my door, slam it shut behind me, and lock it with the kind of relief only an escapee from a bad thriller would know. Leaning against the door, I breathe a sigh of relief. Safe at last.

For a few seconds.

Then—knock knock knock.

My heart stops. I freeze, my eyes widening as I hear that unmistakable sound. My hands immediately shoot to the door handle, ready to bolt if necessary. I crouch low, as if that would help. And, of course, I do what any normal person would do in this situation—I panic.

Then, I hear a voice.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

It’s a man’s voice. A familiar one.

My mind races as I crawl further away from the door, my pulse quickening. What the hell is going on? I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to just answer the door and get it over with, but the other part? The part that’s been surviving on stress and paranoia? That part is not having it.

It’s a voice I recognize. But from where?

Alessandro’s POV

I pace outside Faith's house, my eyes glued to the windows, watching for any sign of movement. I can't help it. There's something about her... something that pulls me in, something that leaves me questioning every little decision I've made. Why am I hesitating? She's right there, just a few steps away, and yet I feel like I'm on the edge of some precipice.

"Come on, Alessandro, what are you waiting for, an invitation?" Dylan's voice breaks through my thoughts, his usual sarcastic tone cutting through the tension like a knife.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Of course not. I just don’t want to overcrowd her. She’s new here, meeting new people, and honestly? I wouldn't blame her if she was on edge. She's been associated with Cain at one point, or maybe still is. Who knows?" I say, my gaze never leaving her house.

"Well, Dimitry has taken a liking to her," Dylan adds, his voice a little too casual for my liking. "Do you think he knows?"

"Knows what?" I glance at him, eyebrow raised.

"That she's your mate," Dylan replies with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as if it’s no big deal.

I let out a long sigh, my gaze still locked on Faith’s house. "I don’t know. I never knew he was a hunter until last night," I say, running a hand through my hair.

Dylan raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," I reply. "I mean, I have to give him credit for hiding it this long. He played nice, kept his distance, but now that she’s here, he’s decided to reveal himself. I’m wondering why, though. Why now?" I voice my thoughts, more to myself than to Dylan.

Dylan takes a sip from his brandy, tapping the side of his glass thoughtfully. "Maybe because he likes her," he suggests, shrugging.

I shake my head, my jaw tightening. "No. There’s more to her than meets the eye. A hunter doesn’t reveal himself like that unless there's something... off. We know how to spot them in this town. They don’t just come out and make themselves known like that." I pause. "There’s something else going on, Dylan, and it’s bothering me."

He lets out a low sigh, setting his glass down. "Well, keep an eye on him. They haven’t made a move against us. It’s been a year since the last attack on one of our kind."

I nod, but I can't shake the feeling that something big is coming. Something I’m not prepared for.

"So, did you get the information I asked for last night?" I ask, glancing at him.

He nods and slaps a vanilla folder down on the table. I grab it, flipping through the pages quickly. Each one makes my blood run cold. The more I read, the more furious I become.

"Are you sure this is concrete, Dylan?" I ask, disbelief creeping into my voice.

"Have I ever failed you before, Alessandro?" he replies, leaning back as if daring me to question his reliability.

I shake my head, shoving the file aside. Before I can dive into my thoughts, I hear hurried footsteps outside. I glance at the window, watching her as she enters her house, slamming the door behind her.

"It's now or never, Alessandro," Dylan says, raising an eyebrow and giving me a grin that tells me he’s enjoying my torment.

I lock the door behind me and walk toward hers, every step heavy with uncertainty. Dylan’s words echo in my mind, but there’s no turning back now.

I stop in front of her door, listening. I hear her breathing, slightly faster than usual. Is she nervous? Did she run when she heard my footsteps? My heart beats harder, but I knock anyway, the sound heavy in the silence.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" I ask, my voice louder than I intended.

I hear her gasp from behind the door. She moves away, the sound of her footsteps small and hesitant. It makes my stomach knot, wondering if I’ve crossed some line. But I can’t back down now.

The door creaks open, and there she is. She looks startled, her wide eyes meeting mine, as if she hadn’t expected to see me standing there.

"Alessandro?" she asks, her voice a mix of confusion and something else, something I can’t quite place.

I rub the back of my neck, awkwardly trying to cover up the tension in the air. "I just wanted to know if you're feeling any better after last night," I say, my tone light, despite the churning feeling in my gut.

Her eyes widen as the realization hits her. "You were the one who brought me home?" she asks, her voice soft, almost in disbelief.

I nod, a small grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Yeah, you were stumbling around. Couldn’t let you walk home in that condition." I shrug, trying to sound casual even though I’m anything but.

A blush creeps onto her cheeks, making her look even more adorable than she already does. It’s almost enough to make me laugh, but I bite my lip to hold it back.

"Um... would you like to come in? It’s the least I could do after last night," she says, her voice faltering slightly, but the invitation is clear.

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips. "Sure," I say, stepping inside as she closes the door behind me, the sound of the lock clicking sending a shiver through me.

She locks the door... and just like that, I know. I’m not leaving anytime soon.