Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zane
T he Toronto skyline glitters against the inky blanket of night, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming my mood. I reach into Huntley’s mind, unable to shake my fury from earlier. “I can’t believe you were Scottie’s first, and, given all that’s happened between us since then, you never bothered to mention it.”
Huntley is riding shotgun in the front seat of the SUV and doesn’t turn. What good could it have done? She was gone. You moved on.
Like fuck I did. I’ve been dead inside all these years, biding my fucking time and working to prove that I deserve to earn her trust back.
None of that would’ve changed if you knew the two of us had sex.
Except now I don’t know if I can trust you.
Are you angry or jealous?
Both. The lucky fuck. Not that he needs to know that.
From the back of the SUV, I watch neon signs blur past as Dante navigates through the downtown core at ten o’clock at night. The streets are slick from an earlier rain, reflecting the city lights like scattered diamonds in our path.
“Take Queen Street, D,” Link says beside me. The warrior leans forward beside me, gripping Huntley’s head rest. “Less traffic this time of night.”
Dante makes the turn while Link fidgets beside me.
“Tripp better be right about this technomancer.” I check my phone again, reviewing the coordinates our in-house tech-genius sent. “We’re hemorrhaging money faster than we can track it.”
“Never heard of a technomancer.” Link’s dark eyes scan the passing storefronts. “What exactly are we walking into?”
Huntley catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “They’re like hackers on supernatural steroids. Think of them as technology whisperers.”
“Tripp says they interface directly with computer systems.” At least that’s what he said in the briefing I got an hour ago. “Their magic lets them slip past security like it’s not even there. They can rewrite code with a thought. They can track information as easily as tugging on a thread and following it back to its source.”
Dante whistles low behind the wheel and takes another turn, heading deeper into Cabbagetown. “So, they can talk to computers?”
“And more.” It’s unnerving to know exactly what they are capable of. “They can control electronics, plant viruses, steal data—all without touching a keyboard. Tripp says the guy we’re going to see is the best in Toronto.”
The streets narrow as we enter one of the older areas of the city. Historic buildings loom overhead, their Gothic architecture a reminder of times when technology wasn’t our biggest concern. Now, fiber optic cables snake through century-old walls, and satellite dishes sprout like metal flowers from Victorian rooftops.
“If this technomancer traces the money trail of the funds being embezzled from Vasari Industries, I’m betting we find the fuckwad behind the coup against our seethe.”
“Lazarus fucking Kaza,” Link says, his voice more growl than words.
“If that’s really his name.”
We all know what finding Lazarus Kaza could mean. Revenge for my father. Justice for our people. And an end to this asinine threat.
“You really think Kaza’s behind the money grab?” Link asks.
“We’ll know soon enough.” I lean back, watching a streetcar rumble past. “Someone is pushing through regulatory approvals to destabilize our hold on the market. We’ve got a steep loss of income from the blood trade and the tracking sheets for empowered objects don’t match our inventory. For all of it to be happening at once, my bet is that it’s tied to the attack on my father.”
“Stealing our own money to bankroll the attack on us is really fucking nervy,” Link says.
“It is. And it says a lot about the man behind it.”
“No fucking honor,” Huntley says.
“Exactly right. He’s a coward, hiding in the shadows and riding our coattails.”
“They didn’t get you or the dagger,” Dante says. “Not that I’m complaining, but that was fucking sloppy considering everything else that’s gone down with such stealth.”
“Agreed.” I sit deeper in my seat and stare out at my city. “We’re missing a piece of the puzzle. What good was it to kill my father and not have me and the dagger locked down? What did they gain?”
The rain starts again, a light drizzle that turns the streetlights into halos. Through the windshield, I spot our destination—an unremarkable three-story building wedged between a coffee shop and a vintage record store.
Dante pulls along the curb and slows to a stop. “How do you want to play this, sire?”
Huntley
The sign above the door reads “Ctrl+Alt+Elite” in neon blue. Link takes point as we escort Zane into what appears to be an old falafel house converted into a tech haven. The scent of flavored energy drinks and a haze of smoke hits my nose before we spot our target.
“Welcome to my humble abode.” A lanky guy with rainbow-colored dreads and thick-rimmed glasses peers at us from behind three curved monitors. “I’m Binary Chaos, but my friends call me Bin.”
“No one calls you that,” a voice echoes from somewhere in the darkness.
Bin shrugs. “James Tripp sent you. Nice guy, a bit intense about his firewalls, though. Fee’s been paid.”
I scan the room, noting the emergency exits while Zane steps forward. “Tripp told you the job?”
“Oh yeah, and I’m hot on the trail of your leaky money.” Bin rolls his chair back, revealing cargo pants covered in USB drives and a t-shirt that reads ‘There’s no place like 127.0.0.1.’ “Come. Check it.”
We follow him through a maze of servers, their fans humming like mechanical insects. This guy’s workspace is something out of a cyberpunk fever dream—monitors everywhere, cables snaking across the floor, and what looks like a mini fridge modified to house additional processors.
Bin’s fingers dance across three keyboards simultaneously, green text scrolling faster than I can read. “I traced your leak and figured you’d like me to recoup your funds.”
“Fucking right, I do,” Zane snaps.
Bin nods. “I charge a ten percent restoration fee.”
I whistle. “That’s a quick three million for you.”
He grins. “And for that, I also close all access points and ensure no one can drain your funds going forward.”
“Do it,” Zane says. “And in one year, if everything is as you say and our funds have remained secure, I’ll give you another three million.”
Bin pushes his glasses up his nose and grins. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Vasari.”
Recovering the money is great, and all, but I want the man behind it. “And you can tell us who took it and where we can find him?”
The guy scoffs as if that’s irrelevant.
Which it totally isn’t.
Bin leans over a keyboard and grins. “Watch and be amazed, gentlemen.”
Scottie
I’m lying on the training mat, my hands trembling against my stomach as I work to calm myself. The energy beneath my skin crackles like live wires, ready to explode at any moment. What do I want? What do I truly want out of life going forward?
I think about this morning: seeing the video of Zane attacking those girls, and then hearing Huntley confess his truths.
Perspective is everything.
Each of us lived that night in our own personal hell.
I caused as much pain as I suffered and didn’t know it. But now that I do know? Can I go back to Manhattan to pick up the life I built?
Did I build anything? My soul has always been here. I went to art school. I got my degree and a job and made some friends, but none of it sank into my bones.
My walls went up on my twenty-first birthday and kept everyone at a distance ever since.
It’s been a lonely seven years.
But do I want to come back and be bound to Zane—and by extension, Huntley? Do I want to live this life again? Be drawn into the chaos of vampire life?
It’s not even a question.
It may have been my father’s destiny first, but my life is here. It always has been.
I open my eyes and search the empty training room. Jack and Tucker left me to think, but I’m sure they aren’t far. “Tucker? Can we talk?”
I don’t speak loudly, but I know he’s close enough to hear me.
The pocket door slides open and there he is. Tall, dark, and dreamy. “Feeling a little better, beautiful?”
I sit up and cross my legs. “I think so, but I need to talk with you about Zane and Huntley and my life with them.”
His expression remains relaxed, but I sense his apprehension in the spark of the magic between us when he settles in front of me and takes my hand. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“You are. I want you to know everything that’s brewing between me, Zane, and Huntley, so you can tell me how you see things.”
He dips his chin and meets my gaze. “That’s easy. If you want me in your life, I’m here. I’m all in.”
“But I haven’t told you everything?—”
“No matter what you need to tell me, I’m at your side for as long as you want me here.”
“But what if?—”
He cups my cheek in his palm. “There’s nothing you could’ve done or want to do that will scare me away. The only way I’m leaving you is if you tell me to go. Do you want me to go?”
“No! Not at all, but Zane and Huntley both own a piece of me and I’m realizing they always will. I want to be fair to you from the beginning. I adore you. You’re my calm in the storm. I want you and need you, but what you need matters just as much.”
“Then we’re all good because the only thing I need is you.” He winks and brushes his thumb against my cheek. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but it happens like that sometimes with magical races. I’m falling deeper in love with you every day.”
Tears sting my eyes and my heart swells in my chest. I swallow against the thickness of emotion in my throat and press my cheek against his palm. “Me too. It’s like you’re meant to be with me—like you’ve always been with me.”
He nods, and all my panic drops away. Tucker is my rock. He is the strong and solid foundation I need to survive and thrive.
“Does this mean you want to accept your duty as Zane’s Sacred Squire?”
“Yeah. I do. Does that bother you?”
He shakes his head. “If you’re being honest with me and true to yourself, nothing you decide will ever bother me, beautiful. And if it keeps you from hurting yourself or others by magical overload, I’m all in.”
“Okay, then let’s call your dad in and see what I have to do to keep from going nuclear and causing the next Toronto grid blackout.”