Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Zane
I rub my temples, staring at the spreadsheets lighting up my screen. The numbers blur together after hours of scrutiny, but something isn’t adding up.
“Walk me through the legitimate holdings again.” I lean back in my chair, focusing on Brandon’s face in the video window. “The discrepancies started there?”
Brandon’s perfectly coiffed gray hair catches the light as he shuffles through papers. “Three separate accounts showing irregular withdrawals. Small amounts at first, nothing that would trigger alerts. But the pattern?—”
“Shows coordination.” I pull up another document. “And you found similar activity in the blood trade and the trafficking of relics?”
“Identical signatures.” Brandon’s mouth curves into that knowing smirk that makes people uncomfortable. “Someone’s building a war chest, but they’re being clever about it. Using our legitimate business channels to siphon funds.”
“How big a loss are we talking?”
“Close to thirty million over the past six months.”
I slam my hand on the desk. “And we’re just fucking catching this now?”
Brandon has the good sense to look sheepish. “They buried it exceptionally well. The shell companies used appeared to be standard vendors. They routed all transactions through?—”
The screen flickers. Once, twice.
The hair on my arms stands on end and I sit up straighter in my chair. What the hell is with the power tonight? That’s the third time the lights have gone glitchy since I started working.
“Fine. The important thing is that we found the leak,” I say.
“Yes, sire. Going forward, I suggest we—” Brandon’s voice cuts out as my office plunges into darkness.
The hum of electronics dies, leaving nothing but deafening silence.
What the hell?
My heart slams against my ribs as a sickening sense of déjà vu brings bile up the back of my throat.
No. Not again. We will not fall to these tainted, half-breed motherfuckers.
I stand behind my desk, listening. The darkness feels alive, pressing in from all sides. Not that it has any limiting effect on me. Vampires see as well in darkness as we do in full light.
What’s going on?
Images of the previous attack flash through my mind. I’ve watched the invasion from every camera feed and from every angle. The incursion through the kitchen as Benoit snuck the enemy past security at the loading docks. How the fake fanger mutts spread through our home like a fucking virus.
The blood, the screams, my father’s head…
Scottie.
Instinct takes over and I vault over my desk, knocking my chair backward. My feet pound against marble as I race through the pitch-black corridors of the residence.
The emergency lights should have kicked in by now.
Something is very wrong.
The fact that the door to the Squire’s Suite is still sealed should soothe the panic burning like wildfire within me.
It doesn’t.
I race to the door, kicking it when I get within range.
I’m thrown back in a violent crack of magic, my aggression directed back at me in equal and opposite force. Fucking hell, Bran .
Of course he had his suite warded against vampire intrusion.
Scrambling up to my feet, I shake off the mental tilt-a-whirl from the witch’s warding spell and press my hand over the scanner like a civilized person.
The moment the system admits me, I’m through the door and racing to find my girl.
The silence in the suite scrapes against my nerves.
No alarms are going off. No backup generators are coming on. Nothing.
With my muscles coiled and fangs dropped, I reach her bedroom door and burst through without hesitation.
“Scottie!”
The scene before me stops me cold. Scottie and Tucker…lying scattered and lifeless… I race to where she lies motionless and feel for a pulse.
Nothing.
That can’t be right. I pull her into my arms and press my ear to her chest.
Nothing.
My knees buckle as the last shred of hope is ripped from my cold, dark soul.
Scottie is dead.
Huntley
What a night. Demons. Dragons. And a possible do-over with the Shedim Queen. I let myself into the compound, feeling pretty good about my night.
The memorial must’ve given our clan a place to put their grief because the energy of the compound seems restored, more alive than it’s been since the night of the invasion. Or it’s the presence of the two-dozen human volunteers Zane allowed to be brought in for those who wished to partake in a live feed.
Whatever the reason, the lightened mood will take some weight off Zane’s shoulders.
Vampires aren’t overly emotional beings, so having laid our dead to rest, the clan can move on. That Bran and Francesco haven’t received the same honor is horrid, but everyone knows we’ll right that wrong.
I stride through the common area, a spring in my step from a night well spent. There’s nothing like a battle to the death to make you feel alive.
The hub is bustling with vampires—some feeding, some fucking.
Link and two other guards are holed up at the games tables, goblets of blood being tipped back in abandon. Laughter echoes off the golden walls and for the first time in weeks, I breathe to the full depths of my lungs.
“Yo, Huntley!” Link raises his glass, flashing that confident grin of his. “A good night off chasing shadows?”
“Killed a few demons, met a dragon shifter, and saved a damsel in distress.”
Link snorts. “If you say so.”
I wave as I move past them, not caring if they believe me or not. Zane will believe me and hearing about my night will cheer him up a bit.
Taking the corridor that leads to the royal residences, I push through the stairwell doors and head upstairs.
Zane will take my news and give himself a break for one night. He’s pushing himself too much. He hasn’t fed or fucked since the couple in the condo on the night of the attack.
I can seduce him into using me for a few hours to work off some of his stress. I swipe my tongue along the seam of my lips and swallow. That’s the best idea I’ve had all night.
I pick up my pace, jogging up the steps as my cock stiffens just thinking about it. He’s been so riddled with guilt since Scottie came home. It’s not healthy.
It’s also not right.
Because what he doesn’t know is that I’m equally responsible for our childhood playmate leaving us in her rear-view mirror.
I press a fist over the ache in my chest. “Now who’s riddled with guilt?”
Still, as long as she doesn’t tell Zane the truth, we’ll get past it.
And what are the odds of?—
A surge of energy slams into me like a freight train, sending me crashing back against the wall. The drywall buckles behind me, and I fall to the marble steps. Not an ideal landing by any stretch of the imagination.
Fucking hell.
Rolling to my knees, I shake my head and clear the cobwebs. Darkness has swallowed the stairwell and reality grips me.
No way this is happening again.
I scramble to my feet and sprint up the last flight of stairs, adrenaline spiking with every step. The guards outside the royal suite are on the ground and shaking off the haze of the blast.
“Has anyone pushed past you?” I shout as I release the security locks.
“No, sir.”
Thank fuck. Inside, I rush through the common area of the residence and head to the royal suite.
“Zane!” My voice echoes down the hall, swallowed by silence.
No answer.
I throw open the door to Zane’s office and a chill runs the length of my spine. Papers strewn across the floor, his chair overturned and left on its side.
“Zane!” I shout again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
The knot in my stomach tightens as dread settles in like a heavy fog. My feet move before my mind catches up and I bolt toward the Squire’s Suite.
The door is ajar.
That shouldn’t be?—
Zane’s scream slices through the quiet like a knife. There’s no mistaking the sound of a vampire’s grief. No human could replicate such a raw and unfiltered wail.
With my heart hammering behind my ribs, I race into Scottie’s room and find Zane on the floor, clutching Scottie’s naked body to his chest. He’s got her head propped against his shoulder, but the way her arms are hanging out to the side, it’s obvious something is very wrong.
“Zane?” I croak out between clenched teeth. “What happened?”
Zane looks up at me, tears spilling down his cheeks. “She’s dead.”
What? No. She can’t be . I listen but can’t hear her heart beating. I cross the room in a blur, kneel beside them, and press my fingers to her neck.
Nothing. How is that possible?
No. Not like this. Not with her still hating me…
“Fuck that.” I lift her wrist to my mouth and let my fangs drop. Biting her flesh brings back a rush of buried emotions, but I focus on staying in the moment. True-blood vampires can call blood.
I’m exceptional at it—if I do say so myself.
Commanding Scottie’s blood flow, I fill her heart with a rushing wave and then empty it. And again. Her heart valves close as blood rushes in and then out of the heart’s chambers.
Over and over, I call her blood and repeat the process, forcing her heart to beat again. The organ is stubborn at first—no different from the woman—but after a few minutes, the sluggish flow succumbs to my demand.
The whoosh of blood circulating through her veins grows stronger until the rhythmic lub-dub, lub-dub of her life-pumping organ goes solo, and I’m no longer needed.
Retracting my fangs from her porcelain flesh, I fall back onto my ass. My entire body is trembling and I’m pretty sure she just took a decade off my life.
Scottie
The world swirls back into focus with a nauseating spin. The first thing I register is how my squire magic is singing in my veins. The next thing is the possessive hold crushing me. I blink, clearing the haze.
Zane’s face looms over mine, twisted in anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks. It’s ten kinds of wrong to see a man like him broken and it makes my heart ache to know I’m the cause.
“Too tight.” My voice comes out in a whisper, hoarse and shaky.
“You’re awake. Oh, thank fuck.” His relief cracks through the sobs, as he lessens his hold. I manage to suck in a deep breath before he clutches me closer again, in a rib-bruising hug. “Fucking hell, Scotts. I thought I lost you. Don’t ever do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Die! You fucking died on me.”
I did? My mental hamster is having trouble climbing into her wheel, but that doesn’t sound right. Tucker and I were having a marathon love fest and?—
I gasp and sit up. “Tucker?”
“I’m here, beautiful.” Tucker hovers nearby, gloriously naked and somehow still radiating calm amidst the chaos. A wash of embarrassment zips through me as I realize I’m also bare under Zane’s grasp.
I squirm slightly to break free from his hold, but he still won’t let me go.
“Zane.” My voice is firmer now, despite the confusion swirling in my mind. “Let me sit up. I want to know what happened.”
Zane lifts his arm and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “An energy pulse hit the residence. It knocked out power, and I thought we were under attack again. I came to check on you and I found you on the floor…dead.”
The word hangs in the air and there’s not an ounce of drama added.
“How is that possible?”
Zane shakes his head, pain etched across every feature. “I have no idea. I found you and then Huntley got here, and he brought you back.”
My eyes dart to Huntley, standing next to Tucker. The devastation in his gaze stabs at something deep inside me. I can’t grasp why it hits so hard.
“You saved me?”
Huntley juts out his chin but doesn’t meet my gaze directly. The Viking is uncomfortable and shifts on his feet like he’s ready to bolt. Staring at him, all unsettled and upset, something hot burns in my veins.
I want him…but I don’t want to want him.
“What did you do to me?” The question comes out as more of an accusation, but with my current state of arousal ramping up for no apparent reason, I think I have the right to be a little freaked out.
His jaw clenches tight. “I called your blood and got your heart pumping again. It was nothing nefarious.”
“No, it was fucking brilliant,” Zane adds.
The gravity of the moment settles heavily between us. Despite where Huntley and I ended up, we were close once. And he saved my life.
I meet his gaze and offer him every bit of humility and gratitude I can muster. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad it worked.”
What would’ve happened if it hadn’t? Could he have claimed the squire powers? They were always supposed to be his. Did saving me deny him what he covets most?
Lost in the fog of near death, it takes a moment before I realize all three men are staring. They seem lost in thought as well, or mesmerized might be more accurate. They’re looking at me like I’m everything to them when all I feel is confusion squeezing my heart.
It’s too much.
I wriggle free from Zane’s embrace and push myself off the floor. There is no dignity for me while standing naked before them, but I try not to think about it.
“While seeing me naked isn’t new to any of you, I need to clean up and go to bed. When I come back, could you two please be gone? We’ll talk more in the morning.”
“Scottie, no.” Zane reaches for me but stops short when I give him a look.
Closing my eyes, I soften my voice and try again. “I’m thankful the two of you were here, but I’m emotionally spent. Go get some rest. I really am fine.”
“And I need to make sure you stay that way. Go get cleaned up. We will be waiting when you get back. I’m calling a Midnight Madness Pajama Jam.”
I arch an eyebrow. “We’re not nine anymore.”
“No, but I’m the king of this castle and you, my fair maiden, aren’t leaving my sight until I’m sure you truly are all right. We’re not going anywhere.”
Huntley frowns. “I…uh, I’ll check on the power outage and lock down the compound.”
Zane shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I send Tucker an apologetic shrug. “I’m too wiped to argue. Sort out what side of the bed you both want. I’ll take the middle.”