Chapter 440: Chapter 440 Sergei and Mikhail’s Recklessness

Liam stayed where he was, half hidden in the shadows of the subway wall, his eyes fixed ahead while his mind worked quietly. The tunnel smelled like rust, oil and something older beneath it all, something stale that clung to the back of his throat. He had just begun to catch pieces of the conversation inside when a sudden rush of wind brushed past him.

It was sharp and fast enough to make his coat flutter.

He frowned.

By the time he turned his head, Sergei and Mikhail were already gone, their figures nothing but blurs charging toward the source of the light deeper in the tunnel.

Liam’s jaw tightened.

Idiots.

If they had waited ten more seconds he would have heard more. He had just begun to piece together the tone of the voices, the weight behind them. It was not a casual gathering. There was hierarchy in that room. There was tension.

Now it was ruined.

He glanced at Irina, and for a brief second their eyes met. He did not say anything, but the look he gave her was enough. It was controlled, sharp, disappointed. Not anger. Not panic. Just a silent message.

Keep your men in check next time.

Irina’s lips pressed together but she did not respond. There was no time.

Liam did not follow immediately. He stayed back, stepping into the deeper shadow near a broken pillar, watching. He wanted to see how the people inside would react. Panic told you everything about a room. Discipline told you even more.

Sergei reached the nearest vampire first. His hand shot out and wrapped around the creature’s throat before it could even turn fully. As he squeezed, his forearm shifted, skin tearing into coarse fur, fingers stretching into claws. Muscles swelled under his sleeve as bone cracked and reformed.

With a savage twist, he tore the vampire’s neck open.

Blood sprayed across the cracked tiles.

The body dropped.

The sound echoed.

Everything stopped for a heartbeat.

The conversation died mid sentence. The faint murmur of voices snapped off like a switch had been flipped.

Dust drifted in the artificial light as heads turned.

Mikhail moved beside Sergei, already shifting partially, his eyes glowing faintly as he assessed the room.

But what caught Liam’s attention was not fear.

There was no screaming.

No scrambling.

No chaos.

Some figures stepped back calmly, creating space. Others stepped forward without hesitation. The movement was organized. Measured.

These were not random vampires hiding in the dark.

These were chosen.

Liam narrowed his eyes.

He could now see them clearly. A long stretch of abandoned platform had been cleared out. Lamps powered by some portable generator cast a dull yellow light. Several cloaked figures stood near the center. Some wore masks that covered their upper faces, simple black designs with no expression.

One of them, taller than the rest, rolled up his sleeve slowly.

The motion was relaxed.

Unbothered.

He took one step forward.

“I know you two,” he said softly.

His voice carried effortlessly through the tunnel. Smooth. Cultured. Not raised, yet impossible to ignore.

“Sergei. Mikhail.”

He tilted his head slightly as if studying them.

“I had a feeling we would meet soon. But here?” He gave a faint chuckle. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

There was a smile in his voice even if the mask hid his mouth.

Sergei growled and lunged.

The masked man did not move.

And then he was gone.

Not a blur.

Not a dash.

He simply vanished.

Liam’s eyes widened slightly from where he watched.

He did not see a shift in weight. No step. No preparation. One moment the man stood there. The next, empty space.

Just like Vanessa.

That same unnatural displacement. That same impossible skip in space.

Before Sergei could adjust, the masked man appeared behind him.

Not beside.

Not near.

Directly behind.

He caught Sergei by the collar and waistband in one fluid motion and lifted him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing.

Then he slammed him down.

Bang.

The impact cracked the concrete.

Dust and debris exploded outward in a violent wave. The platform trembled. A spiderweb of fractures spread beneath Sergei’s body as the air left his lungs in a raw, guttural sound.

The shock traveled through the tunnel walls.

Even from where he stood, Liam felt it in his feet.

Sergei’s body bounced once before settling in the crater.

For a split second there was silence again.

Then Mikhail roared and charged.

The masked man did not retreat. He stepped forward into the attack, calm and deliberate. Their clash sent another burst of dust into the air, claws scraping against reinforced sleeves. Sparks flickered where something metal met bone.

Liam finally moved.

Not in a rush. Not panicked.

He walked forward at a steady pace, boots tapping softly against the ground, eyes locked on the masked figure.

Around the platform, the other vampires began to spread out, forming a loose perimeter. They were not interfering yet. They were watching.

Evaluating.

Testing.

This was not a desperate defense.

It was an assessment.

Liam could see it clearly now. This meeting was not just a gathering. It was organized leadership. These were not stray vampires hiding from wolves.

This was structure.

Strategy.

The masked man twisted Mikhail’s wrist and sent him skidding across the platform, boots carving deep lines in the dust before he managed to regain balance.

Sergei coughed and rolled to his side, already trying to push himself up despite the damage.

The masked man adjusted his sleeve calmly as if brushing off lint.

Then his gaze shifted.

Slowly.

Past Sergei.

Past Mikhail.

It landed on Liam.

Even from behind the mask, Liam felt the weight of it.

“So,” the man said quietly, voice still smooth, still controlled. “You finally decided to join us.”

Liam stopped walking.

He could feel Irina somewhere behind him now, approaching but not interfering. She was watching too.

The tunnel felt heavier.

The air denser.

The masked man tilted his head slightly.

“I was wondering when you would step out from the shadows.”

Liam did not answer immediately. His expression remained neutral, almost bored.

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