Chapter 423: Chapter 423 The Fledging

Liam rose slowly from the bed as soft morning light poured through the tall glass walls of the penthouse, washing over the room and the city far below. Everything outside felt distant, muted, unreal. He glanced at his phone. 10:42.

He exhaled under his breath.

His screen was filled with messages. Irina. One after another. Short. Direct. Urgent.

Liam placed the phone back on the bedside table and turned toward the bed.

Lana was still asleep, curled beneath the sheets, hair spread across the pillow, her breathing slow and steady. He stood there for a few seconds just watching her, letting the noise of the world drop away. Then he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, barely there, careful not to wake her.

Her eyes opened anyway.

She blinked once, then looked up at him, still half lost in sleep. “Morning,” she murmured, voice low and lazy.

He smiled. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She smiled back faintly, eyes following him as his thumb brushed along her cheek. “You always do.”

Liam chuckled quietly. “Irina messaged me already.”

Lana hummed, shifting slightly under the sheets. “That serious?”

“Feels like it,” he said. “She wants to meet. Now.”

She studied his face for a second, then shook her head slowly. “I’m not coming.”

“No?” he asked.

She pulled the blanket higher over herself, rolling onto her side like she planned to stay there for a while. “I’m tired. And this place needs cleaning.” Her voice was soft, sleepy, unbothered. “I’ll do that while you’re gone.”

Liam leaned down again and kissed her lips, slow and gentle, nothing rushed. “Text me what you want to eat. I’ll grab it on my way back.”

She caught his collar lightly before he could pull away and kissed him again. “Just buy whatever you’re getting.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, eyes already drifting shut again. “If you like it, I’ll like it.”

That made him smile more than it should have.

“Alright,” he said quietly.

He squeezed her hand once, let go, then turned and headed toward the bathroom, already shifting gears, already stepping back into the world waiting outside.

⸻

The smell hit first.

Metallic and heavy, mixed with cold air and wet concrete. Irina stood near the edge of the cordoned area, boots planted firmly, arms crossed as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Police lights flashed across the walls and pavement, painting everything in slow red and blue pulses. Officers moved back and forth, voices low, controlled, while forensic teams worked carefully around what remained of the bodies.

There was blood everywhere. Too much of it.

But what disturbed Irina most was not the amount. It was the pattern.

These were not clean kills. Not drained, not precise. Limbs were torn away, torsos ripped open, bones snapped like they had been nothing more than dry branches. Walls were streaked with dark stains where bodies had been thrown. The ground was scarred, clawed, gouged deep in places where something powerful had lost control.

This was not how vampires hunted.

Irina’s jaw tightened as she watched a forensic examiner kneel beside what was left of a body, carefully photographing and bagging fragments. Whatever had done this had been fast, brutal, and angry. Animalistic.

She was still turning that thought over when raised voices broke out behind her.

Irina turned and saw the source immediately.

A young man stood near the police line, tall and calm despite the tension around him. He wore dark clothes and a pair of glasses that softened his sharp features just slightly, though there was nothing soft about his presence. His posture was relaxed but grounded, shoulders straight, gaze steady, the kind of man who didn’t look intimidated even when surrounded by uniforms and weapons.

Liam.

Even like this, even dressed simply, he looked unreal. His face was clean, sharp jawline catching the light, dark hair neat but natural, his eyes cool and observant behind the lenses. There was an effortless confidence about him, the kind that made people notice without understanding why.

One of the officers was blocking his path, clearly annoyed, voice raised as he demanded credentials and questioned why Liam thought he could just walk onto an active crime scene.

Irina stepped forward immediately.

“Let him through,” she said firmly.

The officer turned, surprised, then stiffened when he realized who had spoken. Irina didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. “He’s with me.”

The officer hesitated for half a second before stepping aside. Another policeman nearby muttered an apology under his breath as Liam passed.

“Sorry,” the officer said more clearly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t know you were with the captain.”

Liam gave a small nod and lifted one hand slightly, waving it off without any drama.

“It’s fine,” he said calmly. “You’re just doing your job.”

The policeman hesitated, still tense, then nodded. “Sorry about that, sir. I didn’t know you were with the captain.”

Liam shook his head once. “Doesn’t matter.”

He glanced around the scene, eyes moving over the blood, the torn remains, the chaos frozen in place by tape and flashing lights.

“Nobody should be walking freely through a crime scene,” Liam continued, voice steady. “Especially one like this.”

The officer swallowed and followed Liam’s gaze. “Yes, sir.”

Irina watched him closely as he came to stand beside her. She had seen him fight. She had seen him calm in violence. But there was something about the way he handled moments like this that made her trust him more than she expected.

His gaze swept the scene now, sharp and focused, taking in details most people would miss. The way the bodies were positioned. The force behind the destruction. The silence beneath the noise.

“This wasn’t vampires,” he said quietly, not asking.

Irina exhaled slowly.

“No,” she replied. “It wasn’t.”

She looked back at the torn remains and felt a familiar cold settle in her chest. Whatever line had been crossed, it was no longer subtle. Something had changed. And this was only the beginning.

The morning sun felt very far away.

“Yes,” Liam said quietly as they stepped deeper into the cordoned area, “this feels wrong.”

Irina glanced at him. “Wrong how.”

“Not controlled,” he replied. “No pattern a seasoned vampire would leave. Too much force. Too messy.”

“That was my first thought too,” she said. “But then I told myself I was reaching.”

“You are not the type to reach.”

Irina gave a short breath that was almost a laugh. “That is not a compliment coming from you.”

They walked slowly, careful where they stepped, moving around bloodstains and debris as if the ground itself demanded respect. Officers kept their distance now. The forensics team worked silently around them.

“Look at this,” Liam said, stopping near a shattered wall. “Impact marks. Someone was thrown here. Hard.”

Irina nodded. “Bones cracked on contact. No feeding marks. No restraint.”

“And this one,” Liam added as they moved again. “Claws. Not blades. Not clean cuts.”

Irina’s eyes narrowed. “Vampires do not lose control like this. Not unless they are feral. And even ferals feed.”

“So what tears people apart and leaves them like waste,” Liam asked, “without taking blood.”

Irina did not answer immediately. She walked a few more steps, eyes scanning the scene again, slower now, as if she was replaying something in her mind.

“When I was younger,” she said, “my mentor used to say that violence always tells the truth. You just have to learn its language.”

Liam looked at her. “And what is it saying.”

“That whoever did this was overwhelmed,” she replied. “By hunger. By strength. By instinct.”

“That still does not explain the lack of feeding.”

“No,” she said. “It does not.”

They stopped near a body that had been partially covered. Only an arm and part of the torso were visible. Irina crouched slightly, careful not to interfere.

“See the bite marks,” she said.

Liam leaned in. “They are shallow.”

“Yes. Failed attempts.”

“Like someone who does not know how,” he said.

Irina straightened slowly.

“Or someone who cannot control themselves long enough to feed properly,” she replied.

Silence hung between them for a moment.

Liam broke it. “You are thinking of something specific.”

Irina hesitated. “I am trying not to.”

“That usually means you should.”

She exhaled and looked around again, slower this time, almost counting details.

“When vampires are newly turned,” she said carefully, “they are unstable. Strength spikes before control sets in.”

“But they are taught?” Liam asked. “Guided?”

“Only if they survive long enough,” Irina replied.

He frowned. “You said survive. As if some do not.”

“Most do not,” she said flatly. “The first hunger kills them or exposes them.”

They started walking again, following a trail of destruction that led toward a collapsed doorway.

“Still,” Liam said, “this level of damage feels excessive even for a newly turned.”

Irina stopped.

Her eyes fixed on the floor.

Then she went very still.

“No,” she murmured.

Liam noticed immediately. “What.”

She did not look at him at first. “That cannot be right.”

“What cannot.”

Irina finally turned to him. Her voice dropped lower. “I think I know what caused this.”

Liam held her gaze. “Then say it.”

She leaned closer, keeping her voice just above a whisper even though no one else was near.

“A new vampire has just been turned.”

Liam blinked once. “Isn’t that what we have been talking about since.”

“Listen,” she said sharply. “Not like this.”

He waited.

She drew a slow breath. “The process. A human must drink the blood of a vampire before death. Not after. Before. Even a single mouthful can be enough.”

“Huh?”

“You must also know,” Irina continued, “that after death the body lies dormant. Three days. No heartbeat. No breath. No signs of life.”

“And then they wake?” Liam said quietly.

“Yes,” she said. “Reborn as a vampire.”

“So what is different,” he asked.

Irina’s jaw tightened. “It stopped working.”

He stared at her. “What do you mean it stopped.”

“Centuries ago,” she said. “The blood lost its potency. The balance shifted. Humans could no longer be turned.”

“That is impossible,” Liam said.

“It was not impossible,” Irina replied. “It happened.”

“Then how do they exist.”

“They are older,” she said. “From before the change.”

Liam shook his head slightly. “Then what you are suggesting…”

“Should not be possible,” she finished.

They stood there as the weight of it settled.

“A new vampire,” Liam said slowly, “with no guidance. No control. No understanding.”

“And no leash,” Irina added.

“That would explain the violence.”

“Yes.”

“And the lack of feeding.”

“Yes.”

Liam exhaled. “If this is true then something has changed again.”

Irina nodded. “That is what terrifies me.”

“Who turned them,” he asked.

“That is the next question,” she said. “And the worst one.”

“If humans can be turned again,” Liam said, “this will not stay quiet.”

“It will not,” she agreed. “Every faction will feel it.”

“And panic.”

“And greed,” Irina added.

Liam stopped near the edge of the scene and looked back once more at the destruction.

“Find the fledgling,” he said. “Fast.”

Irina met his gaze. “Before they kill again.”

“Or before someone else finds them first.”

She nodded. “Either way, the clock has started.”

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