Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Scottie
A fter the chaos of last night—the energy blast and then the trauma of my nightmare—I need a few hours alone to regroup. Zane left me a text saying that he’s the king’s quarters working on some embezzling issue he and Brandon Stern discovered if I need him, and Tucker left to check in with his father.
I need to check in with him, too.
Jack is the only person who might know what’s going on inside me—because something definitely is. My skin is practically sparking with energy, my libido is getting hard to ignore, and it feels like my blood is fizzing in my veins.
This can’t be normal.
I pace around my private sanctuary and calm the chaos within. Everything here is exactly as I remember it all the years I was growing up. It’s a modern, comfortable space decorated in monochromatic tones of sage green and gray, and furnished by me and my obsession with Urban Barn.
Thankfully, Da never cared about any of that and handed me his bank card.
The floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflect the golden glow from the fire and the wall sconces. It’s not as bright as daylight, but it kept Zane and Francesco alive when they spent time here, so that’s a win.
I never minded the concessions made so that we could live here.
Keeping Francesco and Zane safe was the most important thing. Da was an incredible security officer. He was an incredible father, too.
I stop my tour of the main living space and study the Caravaggio painting hanging above the fireplace. Francesco gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday, and then two of Rodin’s lesser-known sculptures for my twentieth.
The hole that losing the two of them has left inside me is soul-consuming.
I don’t know how to navigate the world alone.
The moment I think about that, I hear Da’s voice in my head… “ Yer not alone, lass. Yer just stubborn as rocks.”
“And whose fault is that, oul man?” It hits me then, that as often as I’ve wanted to hear his voice and talk to him about everything running through my head, he left video messages for me which I’ve refused to watch.
Refused might be too strong of a word—been utterly terrified to watch is closer to the truth. But as Rodney Atkins says, ‘If you’re going through hell, keep on going. Don’t slow down, and if you’re scared, don’t show it.’
There’s a lot of wisdom to unpack there, and so, I grab my laptop, take it over to flop onto the couch, and pull a fluffy throw blanket over me.
Opening things up and accessing my father’s private cloud files is the work of a moment, and then I click on the folder with my name on it.
Six videos with my father’s face frozen in the first frame open and a sob escapes my throat. The sadness in his dark blue eyes is heartbreaking and I fight to breathe through the constriction of my lungs.
“I can’t do this.” Tears catch in my voice, and I close my eyes and pray to whatever deity might be listening to make this all a horrible nightmare and to give my Da back to me. I wait, listening, hoping, my wish losing strength with every minute that passes.
Da is gone and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.
Mustering all the strength I can, I tap the first file. “Och, my wee girl, I’m so sorry yer here. For if yer seeing these files, somethin’ happened and our time has been cut short.”
I press my hand against my chest and heave a ragged breath into lead lungs.
“I love ye, lass. Take all the comfort ye can from that. I love ye to the breadth of the world and the depths of the seas. Of all the experiences I’ve had and the treasures I’ve held in my hands, none have even come close to the pricelessness of callin’ myself yer da.”
“I love you, too, Da.”
“And so, here ye are, searchin’ fer answers, although I don’t know that I have any to give. All I can do is direct ye back home. If I’ve been killed in battle, Francesco will take care and love ye as his own. If the worst has happened and we’ve both been lost, then Jack will step in, I’m sure.”
“He has.”
“And while I know ye don’t want to hear it, me bein’ dead means I get the last word and ye can’t argue. It’s time, my girl. Ye’ve hurt him long enough. When he sent ye away, he did what he thought best. He loved ye to the best of his ability in a dark time. And what happened after—the things ye went through in New York—they weren’t his fault and ye know it.”
Another sob ribs from my lungs. “I know. I’m getting past it—I swear.”
“It was a terrible time fer everyone, lass. And knowin’ what he became after ye left, I’m thankful ye weren’t there because he might well have taken ye from all of us and where would we have been then?”
“He never would’ve hurt me. He couldn’t.” But it’s a moot point to argue because we’ll never know.
“I know yer still arguin’ the point, so it best that ye see fer yerself.”
Da leans forward in the video and taped footage plays across the screen. It’s security footage of three college-aged girls being ravaged and drained by a vampire in the shadow of the?—
Ohmygod, it’s Zane…but it’s not.
The vampire overpowering the girls has so violently torn into the throat of a blonde, that her carotid artery is spilling down her shoulder, soaking his face and neck in blood.
Another girl lies lifeless and already drained. And when he drops the blonde, he dives on a brunette that was trapped in a dead end of the alley. Zane lunges like the apex predator he is and when she struggles, he sinks his fangs through her jeans and into her thigh.
I watch in horror as the boy I loved consumes not just one, but three girls without hesitation, before finally settling over his kills, sated and content, his fangs still in the third girl’s leg.
A conversation I had with Jack comes back to me…
“I was there when he slaughtered three UofT students…He drained them dry and didn’t remember doing it. His darkest impulses had a tight grip on him and didn’t let go for several years.”
Years . Zane was a monster lost to the cravings of his beast for years? That hurts my heart. He will never forgive himself for taking those lives.
Vampires don’t live by the same moral code as humans, but Francesco always said loving me made Zane more compassionate toward our lives and frailties.
There’s no way he killed those girls and isn’t carrying that with him as a wound that will never heal.
The security video cuts off and my father’s face is back. “Forgive him, lass. Ye’ll need him…especially now.”
I click to exit the file, slap my laptop closed, and curl up in a sad little ball in front of the fireplace.
Even seeing the footage, I have a hard time believing Zane could hurt me. But what would it have done to him if he had? The look in Zane’s eyes when I woke up in his arms—first after dying and then after being taken by my nightmare—is seared into my soul.
I’ve never seen him so broken.
And Huntley…
He has every right to hate me for stealing his life, but he saved me. I rub at the pressured ache in my chest. Something about the way he stared at me last night broke my heart.
“This is such a mess.” I press my face into the cushion and let off a muffled scream.
The three of us have been dancing around each other for years. Me and Zane. Huntley was always there with us—there for us. Zane and Huntley finding comfort in each other while pushing me away. We’re like a tragic triangle of idiots who can’t get our shit together.
And now I’ve got Tucker in the mix…sweet, wonderful Tucker who deserves better than to be caught in our drama.
I can only imagine what Da would say if he were here. Then again, if he were here, I wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.
I groan and pull the blanket over my head. “Why did you do this to me, Da?”
But I know the answer—or at least part of it. His death would mean I was truly alone. If he didn’t gift me his powers and force my hand, I would never have stuck around long enough to wade through all our hurt feelings. He forgave Zane, and he wants me to move on and forgive him, too.
I can hear him now… “ Pull up yer big girl panties, missy. It’s time ye start actin’ like a feckin’ McCullough.”
“I know it is, Da. I’m sorry. It’s long overdue.”
Tucker
I release the security latch and push the refrigerator out of my way to gain access to the small kitchen of my father’s barbershop. I sense him the moment I emerge and reseal the entrance. Pressing my forehead against the cool metal of the appliance, I draw a deep breath.
Isn’t it supposed to be the kid that makes the parent crazy?
My dad never got that memo.
Jack Of All Fades is more than his hobby, I get that, but the little barber shop that smells of aftershave and wood polish is still a front. He was placed here as a security measure for the escape exit.
It doesn’t matter if the shop opens and so—while he’s recovering from a brutal battle—it doesn’t matter if it remains closed, either.
I stride into the front of the shop and sit in one of the three chairs. The vintage barber pole outside is spinning slowly, casting red, white, and blue ribbons of light into the darkness of the alleyway.
“It’s always the last place you think to look. And here I thought you were supposed to be resting.”
Jack finishes sweeping up hair clippings and then props the broom up in the corner. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.
“And are you getting there sooner rather than later?” I cross my arms.
He sits in the vacant chair beside mine and turns so we’re facing one another. “Zane’s healing is complete. I’m fine.”
“And what if you’re not?” I can’t shake off this sense of urgency bubbling inside me.
Jack crosses his ankle over his opposite knee, his gaze piercing through me like he sees right into my head. “What’s going on, Tuck?”
I take a breath, sorting out my thoughts before they spill out. No matter how rattled I am, this isn’t about me—it’s about Scottie. She deserves better than me spilling our private business with a man she considers a father figure. “I need to talk to you, and I need you to be honest with me.”
He frowns. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you, son. Why would you question that?”
“I don’t. It’s just…this is about Scottie and something that happened in New York. She had a nightmare last night and confided some things. I’m worried and have questions. I wondered if you knew about it.”
Jack dips his chin. “I do. I was the one who stayed with her during the weeks of her recovery. But that is her story to tell, Tuck. I won’t break her trust.”
“I’m not asking you to. She’ll confide in me when she’s ready. What I want to know is what happened with that Russ Fusco fucker. Tell me Bran tracked him down and killed him.”
Jack sighs. “Oh, that I could. Unfortunately, I can’t.”
I sit forward in my seat, my bear’s growl rumbling in the air between us. “You mean that bastard is still breathing after what he did to Scottie?”
Jack sighs and runs a hand over his jaw. “Understand that the Vasari’s have no authority in New York. When Bran realized Scottie was in trouble, Francesco approached the Erebus brothers. Because it was a family matter, Victor and Talon allowed them to retrieve Scottie, but someone must’ve tipped Fusco off because he was a ghost.”
“And they never found him?”
“Not that I know of. The brothers were furious about the operation Fusco had built in their city and vowed they would continue to track him down, but as far as I know, nothing ever came of it.”
The idea that the man who kidnapped and terrorized my female is still living is an offense to everything I am.
“And Zane knew none of this?”
Jack shakes his head. “No. The first few years after Scottie left, Zane was completely possessed by his vampire side. It was the worst transition I ever witnessed. He was in no condition to learn that because of him, Scottie was alone and preyed upon by a monster.”
I let out a long breath. “Well, he knows now.”
“How? Why would Scottie tell him now?”
I push out of my chair, pacing the small shop to work out some of my anxiety. “That brings me to the second thing I need to speak to you about. And for this one, I need you to ignore the awkwardness of the subject and to stay clinical.”
His brow raises slightly. “All right. I’ll try.”
I rub my palms together and then wipe them against the thighs of my jeans. “Scottie’s been going through something.”
Jack shifts in his seat. “She’s been going through a lot, son. It’s been a clusterfuck the past few weeks.”
“I know that, but I’ve felt something building inside her the past few days. Given the state of her life, I figured the turmoil and volatility in her was normal. And then last night…”
“Last night, what, son?”
I scrub a hand over my forehead. “Please don’t tell her I aired our private life with you.”
“I would never. You’re my son. Whatever you say to me stays between us.”
I draw a steadying breath and feel a little better. Okay, here goes nothing. “Last night, while we were having sex, that feeling of something building in her got bigger. It was more than arousal. It was like her powers were lighting up.”
Jack’s expression remains unreadable, so I continue. “We were enjoying one another, uh…more than once. But the build didn’t dissipate with her releases. I wasn’t really paying attention to it, because…well… we were both preoccupied with other things, and then…”
“And then?”
“And then I’m halfway across the room with Huntley kneeling over me and checking my pulse. The residence was dark and Zane was holding Scottie in his arms looking utterly wrecked.”
His brows pinch. “I heard the compound experienced a power outage, but what happened with Zane?”
“Scottie died.” Even saying the words twists like a dagger in my belly. “Huntley did some kind of blood command to get her heart beating again, but she was dead—for a time, anyway.”
Jack shakes his head, his confusion obvious. “What does a power outage have to do with Scottie? Son, I’m not following. You think sex stopped her heart?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t a power outage. A blast of energy tore through the compound and knocked out all power.”
“And you think Scottie got hit by that blast?”
“No. I don’t think she was hit by the energy pulse. She was the energy pulse.”
His eyes widen. “More words.”
“Her squire powers exploded. Something’s off with her magic. It’s unstable or overwhelming her, I don’t know, but I’m scared for her.”
Jack pegs me with a pointed look filled with so much fatherly concern it disarms me. “Lock the door. We need to go see our girl.”
Huntley
Last night was the first time I stepped foot in Scottie’s bedroom since the night of her twenty-first birthday—the night I took her virginity. It’s ironic how both times, I gave everything I had in the situation, both times I showed Scottie who I was to the depths of my soul, and both times, she missed the point completely.
She wasn’t the only one to have their heart crushed that night. She isn’t the only one who is angry and weighed down by betrayal.
But seeing her lying limp in Zane’s arms shattered what was left of my resistance. Hoping she gets it isn’t enough—I need to spell it out.
Whether she hates me or not.
Whether she loves me or not.
I need to clear the air and tell her what happened back then and why. After that, the past is behind us.
I access the Squire’s Suite, the heavily ionized air of last night’s energy pulse still clinging to the walls. It smells of magic and heartache, and I fight the urge to turn around and walk away.
Last night I killed demons and battled next to a dragon shifter. Surely I have enough courage to tell a girl how I feel—how I’ve always felt.
I find her curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, a blanket covering her like she’s a kid hiding in a fort. She looks small and the acrid scents of grief and vulnerability permeate the air.
The anger I’ve carried toward her for all these years and the bitterness that churned in my gut finally fades.
She’s just as fucked up as Zane and me.
When things went wrong, all three of us made bad choices and ran away. And because of that, our love slipped through the cracks.
I step closer and sit on the coffee table opposite her. The crackle of the fire is the only sound in the room.
She must sense my arrival, because she lifts her head and pulls the blanket off her face. Her hair flies out in every direction, a golden halo gone wild. Her dark blue eyes are puffy and red when she blinks up at me, a mix of confusion and exhaustion etched in her features.
“Hey,” I manage, but it comes out rough. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, princess.”
A sob wracks her, and I shift to the couch and pull her into my lap. “I don’t know how to do this without him. I need him. I want him back.”
“So do I.” Bran was her father by blood, but he adopted me into their family when I was fourteen. He was my mentor and guardian and everything I wanted to be. Scottie isn’t the only one feeling alone and adrift because of Bran’s death.
The man meant everything to me.
And last night, I thought I’d lost her, too.
“You were dead.” The words spill out before I can catch them. “When Zane screamed, my heart shattered, my panic to get to him driving me. But when I saw you lying in his arms…it destroyed me.”
A shiver runs through me as the memory threatens to pull me under. “I didn’t have time to process it. All I could think of was that I couldn’t lose you. Not when I just lost Bran and not when I never told you the truth.”
She stiffens in my arms and tenses to pull away, but I don’t let her.
“The night of your twenty-first birthday, Zane sent me to check on you. His vampire side was coming into its dominance, and his bloodlust was out of control. He knew he couldn’t handle himself around you and was too ashamed to tell you.”
She blinks at me, hurt and confusion warring in those beautiful eyes.
“He didn’t trust himself,” I continue, heat rising under my skin. “I found you heartbroken and feeling worthless.” My voice falters as memories flood back…
Her tears glistened in the candlelight while Zane wrestled with his demons in the royal residence just down the wing.
“You were so fucking beautiful, and when you turned to me, I let my feelings cloud my judgment. I had loved you both for so long, but never enough to break through your bond. You two only ever saw one another. I was always invisible. My feelings never returned.” My chest tightens with every word as they tumble out.
Scottie shifts slightly, sitting up straighter now. “But?—”
“Don’t. Let me finish,” I whisper fiercely. “I came to you, and you kissed me and begged me to stay—to make you feel loved. You made me promise I’d never hurt you and leave you.” The memory stabs deep, still fresh in my mind, the desperation in her gaze as I swore to her that I would never hurt her.
“And you lied,” she says, pushing against my chest and gaining some distance from me. “Do you know what it did to me to wake up in the morning and find you gone? To realize I’d been fooled by not just Zane, but you, too?”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I fight to breathe. “I loved you so fucking much. I thought you’d finally realized that, and so I gave in to my feelings. I promised you I’d never leave, and you gave yourself to me. It meant everything to be your first. I was honored…and completely shaken by it.”
The weight of my confession hangs between us as silence stretches thin like spider silk. “I laid awake watching you sleep, memorizing the way the firelight made your hair glow like spun gold, and how you made little noises as you dreamed. I imagined you dreaming about me, about the perfect moment we’d just shared.”
But then a knot forms in my throat as darkness creeps back into focus—my heart twists painfully at what followed after that blissful moment.
“You smiled in your sleep, and then…you whispered Zane’s name. You said you loved him, and you’d always be his,” I choke out finally, fury mixing with heartbreak in equal measure. “We’d just shared the most incredible moment of our lives, and you dreamed of Zane loving you.”
Her mouth falls open and I swipe a hand across my eyes and swallow past the tension in my throat. The crushing truth lingers heavily between us.
“I knew then you never truly wanted me—not really. I was a placeholder for Zane, and I always would be.” The admission hurts more than any physical wound ever could—the finality clawing at my insides until there’s nothing left but emptiness where hope once thrived. “And so, I left.”