Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Zane
W e stride into the compound an hour later, riding a wave of victory. The energy of my people reclaiming the power that was stolen from them radiates through the air. We are weary, and many of us are injured and bleeding, but we are triumphant.
Fifty Vasari clan members pour into the hub, the noise of the overlapping voices filling the vast space and echoing off the golden walls. Spirits are high—as they should be—and as our fighters are welcomed by those who didn’t attend, the gory stories of the annihilation of the vampire nest flow.
Scottie is at my side, her hair disheveled and bloody, her gaze alight with the same bloodlust as the rest of us.
She has never looked more beautiful.
Tucker stands on her other side, a possessive hand splayed at the small of her back. Sharing Scottie’s affections with the man is grating, but there’s no discounting his value in our relationship.
The man is a brute and fights like a beast.
Huntley, my ever-present right hand, stands tall, his clothes stained black with blood, his sharp, Norse bone structure making him look every bit like the warrior he was born to be.
“Speech!” Andros calls out, raising a bloody fist into the air.
The crowd breaks out in a chant of ‘speech,’ and I hold up my hands and relent. “Tonight was a victory my father would’ve been proud of. We took our fury at being invaded in our own home and shoved it right back down their throats. Tonight, we showed our enemies we will not be intimidated, and we will not back down.”
Cheers erupt, and my people raise their fists.
Pride swells in my chest. “When we found them, you all answered my call to action. We surrounded that building, and with a synchronized effort, took down over sixty turned vampires inside.”
“Fucking right, we did!” someone shouts.
Not all the mutts we found were fledgling turns. That is concerning. It makes me wonder how long Lazarus has been planning this. How far does his reach extend?
That’s tomorrow’s problem—tonight we celebrate.
“And while I’m so incredibly proud of our accomplishment, there is more to be done. We still need to find my father’s head, and we still need to end Daeva and Lazarus.”
“But we will,” Scottie says beside me.
“We absolutely will.” I glance around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of my people. We are battered, injured, and a little worse for wear, but determination burns within them. “I’m so fucking proud to be your king. Know that I won’t rest until our enemies are dead and?—”
Huntley grabs my wrist and twists me toward him as he collapses beside me. I get my arms around him before his head hits the marble, but his eyes roll back and his body goes limp.
Scottie kneels with me, both of us pulling at Huntley’s clothing, searching for the source of the issue. Our hands are slick and stained scarlet, the fabric suctioning to his skin. “It’s like he went swimming in a vat of blood.”
“Or he’s got one helluva leak.” I yank his shirt open, throwing the two sides open as I take in his blood-soaked body. “Where’s Jesse?”
“She’s in the clinic with the injured,” someone answers.
Scooping the six-foot-six Viking into my arms, I lift him from the floor. My boot skids in the blood pooled on the marble, but once I get my footing secured, I’m racing to the clinic.
Vampires have incredible healing abilities, so if Huntley’s still bleeding this badly after this long…something is very wrong.
Scottie
I have no chance of keeping up with Zane when he’s in a dead run, but I’ve spent enough hours in the clinic over my lifetime to know my way there. When Tucker and I arrive, we rush straight past the group of battered and broken seethe members crowding the little waiting area and into the examination room beyond.
The panic in that room is thick, the worry on Zane’s face alarming.
Jesse has been the doctor in charge of the Vasari vampires since long before I was born. She’s uber smart, intuitive, and focused. And, being a vampire, she moves with incredible speed and precision.
As she scans Huntley, Zane works with her to remove the Viking’s clothes. I rush forward to help. My fingers tremble as we uncover his body.
There are areas of claw slices knitting back together, bruises fading before our eyes…and yet blood spills from Huntley’s wounds, pooling on the ground.
“What is it? Why isn’t he healing?”
Vampires often ignore physical injuries because they are crazy good at healing. So why is he still bleeding?
“When was the last time he fed?” Jesse asks, looking first to Zane and then to me. “And I mean a quality feeding. Warm body. Fresh blood.”
Zane frowns. “I don’t know. Not since before the raid, for sure. But even then…I don’t remember.”
Jesse frowns. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?”
Zane curses. “He’s been so worked up since the attack. And I—well, he’s been busy doing double-duty, guarding me and searching for our enemies.”
Jesse’s hands move over Huntley’s body blurringly fast, her touch both methodical and clinical. “Put pressure here.” She points to a jagged slice across Huntley’s torso. “Hold the two sides of the wound together while I hang more blood.”
My hands are slick with Huntley’s sickly sweet blood, but it feels like I’m drowning in panic more than anything else.
Zane finishes with Huntley’s boots and slices up both of the legs of his pants to get those off, too. His jaw is set tight, worry swirling in his emerald eyes. “Why the fuck didn’t he tell us he’d been gored?”
“A healthy mix of adrenaline masking the severity of the wounds and male pride.” Doc Jesse finishes hanging two more bags of blood. One is vampire blood and is being fed into the intravenous tube in his arm. The second is human blood and is draining into the mouthpiece she has strapped over his face.
“You mentioned fresh, warm human blood being better,” I say, looking up from where I’m still holding his torso together. “He can feed on me.”
Zane lets off a long, feral growl, and I meet his narrowed gaze. “This is Huntley we’re talking about. You’re not really going to get into a territorial pissing match over my blood if it can save him, are you?”
The fact that it takes Zane so long to reply is telling about how possessive Zane is about another man taking my blood.
But even before he can answer, Jesse replaces my hands with hers and edges me out of her way. “It’s a kind offer, Scotland, and a good thought, but not tonight. In fact, I need you and Tucker to leave the clinic.”
“What? No!” My protest comes out sharper than intended. “Huntley’s in trouble. I need to be here.”
“But having you two here is the opposite of what Huntley needs.” Jesse’s comment hangs in the air between us as she works fastidiously over Huntley’s injuries. “When his healing catches up with his injuries, he’ll wake. With this much trauma to his system, his vampire instincts will override the man. He’ll be in a feeding frenzy and the two of you will be nothing to his beast but a handy buffet option.”
“Then let him feed off me.” I blurt out before I can think better of it. “He saved my life last week. I’ll return the favor.”
Zane growls again and shoots me a withering glare. “No. If Huntley’s beast is in control, he could rip out your jugular or slice your femoral artery. It’s too dangerous. Tucker, take her back to the residence.”
“What if I donate and I’m not in the room?” I ask.
Jesse shakes her head. “That’s noble, but it would take too long. I’m topping him off with bagged blood to stabilize him overnight. He’ll have better control tomorrow after some rest. You can revisit the idea then if you still want to help.”
A lump forms in my throat at the thought of leaving him here alone like this—the thought of him waking up and being ravenous sends chills down my spine.
“Go, Scots. Tucker, get her out of here.” Zane meets my gaze. His tone is gentle but still carries the authoritative edge of someone used to being obeyed. “I’ll stay with him, and we’ll revisit the idea tomorrow.”
I study Huntley, and though I hate the idea of leaving with everything in me, I concede. I press a balled fist over the ache in my chest as I step away from Huntley’s side. “Hang in there, Viking. Don’t you dare leave me to guard Z without backup. We need you. I need you.”
I squeeze Huntley’s long, still fingers and then let Tucker lead me away.
He’ll be fine.
He has to be.