William (The Valentines) - By Sam Crescent Page 0,4

find her.

William wasn’t the same man. There was no mercy in this guy. Rage, anger and pain consumed him now. His was on a destructive path. No one—not even Robert—could stop him now.

Adam looked around at all the people observing the fight. Vampires, wolves…shit, even demons sat and watched William. Most of them looked terrified of the vampire who had clearly lost his mind.

Shaking his head, Adam turned back to watch his brother.

As much as he thought that this was wrong, he would never get in between his brother and what he felt he needed to do. The witch clearly meant something to him. No vampire went this crazy for a woman unless she was a bond mate.

Adam didn’t know much about her. He’d never met her. A few months ago, she had been taken by the wolf Alpha, James. The same night his own father—head of the vampire council and the most powerful vampire in all of Beyer West—had been killed. Murdered, actually. Taken from them by the same wolf.

Everything around them was going to shit and his brother was determined to go down the same path. At any time the other customers could jump them and finally be rid of the unstable Valentine boy. For decades, William had made himself a reputation for being the crazy brother, but now he was driving his ruthlessness to a whole new level.

Adam tensed as the barman approached his brother. The barman was a vampire and, from the look of it, one of the older generation. Adam moved closer. If it went the wrong way he would back his brother. Whether he believed what his brother was doing was right or not, family came first.

That was what made him a Valentine.

Adam watched as William raised his fist, ready to take another set of swipes at the guy he held. The barman stopped his raised fist easily, holding it in his, and span William around as if he were nothing more than a rag doll.

“Son, he said he didn’t know nothing. Leave him be,” the barman said.

William hissed and tried to hit the barman, a great insult amongst their community. Out of respect, no one attacked the older generation. Adam swore and moved forward.

The barman grabbed William and, using the full force of his upper body, threw him against the bar. The bottles rattled and the customers close by dispersed, not wanting to get involved in a fight that was clearly about to get worse.

Adam ran, going for the man who was holding his brother. The barman turned and sucker-punched him across the room before Adam could even land a blow. He crashed through the window, broken shards of glass spraying around him.

“Fuck,” Adam cursed. The only humans in the street were ones who had seen too much of this world and were pretty much crazy. Drunks, druggies and prostitutes who knew better than to talk about what they had seen. His fangs protruded as his anger rose.

Fuck protocol. Adam was pissed off and cruising for a fight.

He stormed back into the bar.

William was bloodied but he was getting in a few punches of his own.

“I’ve told you not to bring shit like this to my bar. I didn’t serve your fucking family to have you ruin my business,” the barman yelled as he pushed William away from him.

Adam stopped as his words registered. This man used to serve the Valentines?

“What the hell are you talking about?” William asked, spitting blood on the floor and wiping his lip.

“Name’s Donald. I served the Valentines for over three generations and this is the type of respect I get?”

William pulled himself up off the floor.

Adam couldn’t believe what his brother had done. Fucking asshole. Donald ‘Don’ Hargreaves was a well-known guard and warrior. He had fought for and protected the Valentines up until their youngest sister, Rose, had been born. After Rose had come home safe and sound, their mother healthy, Don had been relieved of his duties by their father. No explanations—nothing. Centuries had passed since this fierce warrior had been seen, which was why William hadn’t recognised him. He’d done nothing other than working in a bar, where no one would have thought to look for him.

“Don Hargreaves?” Adam asked.

“Yep, that’s me. About time you two heathens bloody noticed,” Don replied, his anger still close to the surface.

“Shit.” William wiped his face, smearing the blood along his cheek. “I’m sorry, Don. This had nothing to do with you.”

“It has something to do with your