The Baritone’s Rival (The Vampire Impresario #2)

15. Oscar

Chapter 15

Oscar

O scar hadn’t known it would be like this. He’d heard the stories, understood the theory of the crimson surge. If his mate was in mortal danger, the demon inside of him would take over, giving him a burst of power to save them. Sounded simple enough. He had thought he would have some control, some hold over what was happening.

He was wrong.

Elliott had him pinned against the refrigerator, his ex-boyfriend’s eyes bulging with exertion. Oscar could smell his breath; all smoke and rotting meat. He’d turned his head to escape the odor.

That’s when he saw the vampire sink his fangs into Trent’s perfect neck.

The room was bathed in red mist as the demon surged through his blood. His limbs moved of their own accord. He snatched one claw loose from Elliott’s grip and plunged a sharp finger into his eye.

Elliott screamed, a piercing sound of terror and pain, as his eyeball popped. Oscar was dimly aware that his legs were moving. He kicked Elliott in the chest, sending the now half-blind man tumbling to the hardwood floor.

Everything was a whirlwind then, the demon beneath his skin pulling him into a frenzy as he ripped the vampire off Trent’s neck. Oscar’s claws plunged into the vamp’s torso, cracking ribs, wrapping around the man’s cold heart, and pulling. There was a sick sound of flesh and sinew as the still-beating organ emerged from his torso.

The guy dropped to the floor. He wouldn’t recover from that.

He was on the woman now, even as she sped to her compatriot’s side, shaking his lifeless corpse. One moment, Oscar was observing from a few feet away, and the next, he held the woman’s severed head in his hands, her body lying crosswise over her partner’s.

Oscar looked down. Shock and surprise stared back at him from the woman’s face. His eyes went to Trent, who collapsed down to the couch in a full-on faint. Letting the vamp’s head fall to the ground, he sped to his side, putting his ear to Trent’s chest.

His heartbeat was there, still strong. The vampire hadn’t taken too much.

The red fog cleared from Oscar’s eyes. He had control of his body once again. He took in the destruction he had caused. Blood pooled on the cabin floor, spilling out from the bodies of the two vamps and staining the oak planks a deep maroon.

Two. Only two bodies.

Elliott was gone. He must have fled after Oscar destroyed his eye. Yet again, he should have been dead, but he wasn’t.

It didn’t matter. Oscar turned his attention back to his unconscious mate. He picked up a pillow with a red and white flannel cover from the other end of the couch and set it behind his head. He deserved to be comfortable as he recovered.

That was when he saw the long, thin wound in Trent’s cheek.

He screamed in rage, springing up and kicking the bodies of the dead vamps. No one had the right to touch his Trent. He’d kill any who tried.

His Trent . He had tried to deny it, but the demon inside him knew the truth. The bond stretched out between them, and the more they spent time together, the more it started to solidify. Trent was his mate. Even if he’d been sure of that before, this proved it definitively. Oscar’s demon had protected his fated one.

He shoved thoughts of destiny and their possible mate bond away. He had to dress Trent’s face. He had to fix what he could.

Trent hadn’t stirred while Oscar disinfected and bandaged his injury. It made Oscar nervous, but his heartbeat was still strong and even. He’d just lost a lot of blood. He needed sleep to recover.

After Oscar affixed the last piece of medical tape, he ran his fingers through Trent’s blonde hair, treasuring the feel of the feather-soft strands against his skin. God, the man was beautiful. He was the spitting image of a college linebacker. Oscar wondered if he’d played. But his face wasn’t aggressive or competitive now. In repose, it was sweet, almost needy.

Oscar shook his head and backed up, sinking down into the leather armchair across from his mate. He stared at Trent’s unconscious form, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. There was something perfect about Trent in this environment. Maybe it was because he was from Wisconsin, but he fit in perfectly with the rustic furnishings. The cedar kitchen table. The black iron wood stove. The enormous basket filled with a towering pile of blankets. And Trent. He looked at home.

Oscar needed to think. What should happen next? The first thing was to tell his coven master.

Freddie?

The empty silence was deafening, but it would take some time for his thought to reach his master. Freddie was much older than him and could send his call quickly over miles. Oscar didn’t have that kind of power, no matter how precocious Elliott claimed he was.

In the meantime, he waited, basking in the calm peace that being this close to his mate gave him.

Oscar. Report.

The rage spiked in Oscar’s chest as he responded. We were attacked.

How? Freddie’s thought was always even keeled, but Oscar could feel the tension under the question.

I don’t know. My ex Elliott and two others. The two are dead. Elliott has fled.

Injuries?

One of the vamps drained Trent, but he’ll recover. He’s unconscious, but his heartbeat is strong. They slashed his face. Oscar couldn’t stifle his anger. They deserved more of a punishment for hurting his mate. Death wasn’t enough.

And Justin?

Oscar sat up straight. Where had Justin been? In the frenzy of blood, he’d forgotten about his friend’s absence.

I…I don’t know . He must have gone out in the night. I called for him during the fight, but he wasn’t there.

The brooding radiated out from Freddie’s presence in Oscar’s mind. Oscar waited for him to speak.

Not good. Either he was taken out in advance of the attack, or…

Oscar couldn’t sit still as hurt and worry and anger swirled inside him. He jumped to his feet; the floorboards creaking as he paced.

I don’t believe that he’d betray us. Oscar fought to keep his thoughts calm. He is devoted to the coven.

He’s devoted to you , Oscar.

Oscar blinked. What does that mean?

Just what I said. Freddie’s presence left for a moment, leaving Oscar to ponder Freddie’s words. No matter. He’d found his mate. He no longer had any desire for anyone else.

Do you think Elliott will attack again? Freddie returned, his question ringing in Oscar’s skull.

I…I don’t know. Oscar moved to the kitchen sink, turning the faucet and washing his hands vigorously, as if the act would cleanse him of his association with his ex. It would be difficult. I took out an eye, and it will take some time to regenerate a new one. Not that he couldn’t attack with only one eye, but I can’t imagine he’s very happy.

You took an eye? Freddie’s approval came through the bond loud and clear. Good.

Yes. I… Oscar wasn’t sure if he should tell Freddie what had happened. But Elliott had seen Oscar slaughter two vampires. It would be common knowledge soon enough, and his master deserved to know.

It was the crimson surge. Freddie beat him to it, amusement trickling through the connection.

How—

I’m your Coven Master, Oscar. You can’t hide things from me mind-to-mind.

Oscar sighed, resigned and also a little embarrassed. He sheepishly dried his hands on an embroidered hand towel with a marigold design.

Trent is my mate.

I’m happy you finally said it.

Oscar shook his head. It didn’t fix anything. In fact, it made everything worse.

He hates vampires. He hates the concept of mates. I can’t tell him. How will he react? And obviously I have enough baggage to prevent a plane from taking off, considering I popped my ex-boyfriend’s eyeball out all of three hours ago.

Waves of calming energy washed over Oscar. This was the gift of the bond between vampire and coven master. When Freddie spoke, his tone was filled with compassion.

Don’t give up too easily, Oscar. Things change.

Oscar couldn’t think of a response to that, so he said nothing.

Lillian and I are coming to get you. Tend to Trent and stay safe until we get there.

Yes, Coven Master.

With that, Freddie’s presence was gone. Oscar did feel calmer. As much as Freddie could be broody and intimidating, he cared about his vampires. It was a big change from the old Azarian coven. Oscar still wasn’t fully used to it.

“Wha’ happened?”

Oscar’s gaze snapped to Trent. His eyes were closed, but he was beginning to stir. After a few hours of being unconscious, Trent’s blond mop stuck up wildly. Somehow, the bandage on his cheek didn’t take away from how handsome he was. Oscar was sure that a scar would make him even sexier, although he would rather that Trent had never been hurt at all.

“We were attacked.” Oscar stared at Trent warily. What would he remember?

“I know that!” Trent was fighting the grogginess, still recuperating from the fight. “That asshole vampire bit me. Just…how did we…?”

“I managed to fight them off. Elliott escaped, unfortunately.”

“Oh.” Trent sat up, rubbing at his face with his palms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“You lost a lot of blood.”

Trent hummed under his breath. “I guess. What happened to…” He craned his neck around, taking in the whole cabin. His eyes widened at the bodies of the two dead vamps.

“Justin?” Oscar asked. “I don’t know. He didn’t help during the fight.”

Trent’s jaw tightened “We saw him go into his room.”

Oscar nodded. “We did. I’m not sure…I worry he’s been kidnapped.” He didn’t want to give more credence to Freddie’s conjecture.

“Or he ratted us out.” Trent’s face was stone. “If they didn’t follow us from the city, they had to have gotten our location from someone.”

Oscar blanched at Trent’s words. “I don’t want to believe he would do this. You nearly died.”

“I did. I’m only alive because…” Trent’s voice caught in his throat. Oscar flinched inwardly. Did Trent remember? Oscar hoped not. He didn’t know if his heart could take Trent’s rejection, especially after tending to his wounds and caring for him.

“You slaughtered them,” Trent continued. “I was fading out, but I saw that much. Your…your eyes were glowing red. The crimson surge. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?”

Oscar kept quiet. Maybe Trent didn’t have full knowledge of it. He got up from the chair, crossing to stow the medical supplies in a kitchen cabinet.

“Don’t walk away, Oscar.” Trent’s tone was commanding. “I lived with vampires. I know what that means. Your mate was in mortal danger. And we both know Elliott isn’t your mate.”

Oscar closed the cupboard and leaned against the counter. He couldn’t say anything. He’d done his best to avoid this conversation, and his best hadn’t been good enough.

“I’m your mate?” Trent’s face was unreadable. Oscar nodded.

“You are.”