Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hollen
“ George ,” Hollen whispered, blinking his eyes against the darkness that he hadn’t expected to see again. There was an ache in his limbs, the dryness in his throat too real to be a dream. For a split second there had been sand and soft skin, a warm caress against his chin, but it was ripped away with fire and murder flashing over his mind.
“ I’m sorry ,” said George, his voice a soft plea in his chest.
Munro was still holding him, his hands trembling and his eyes red.
“ What’s going to happen? ” Hollen rubbed at his throat, swallowing at the ache. Even moving his arm in the simple action had pain shooting straight through his core, his hair standing on end as tears gathered in his eyes.
“ Without you, I fear everything good in me will disappear ,” said George, his voice reserved just for Hollen. “ I am wrath, and all that goes along with it. I will miss the sweetness of your soul, and the meaning it brought to my life. There is truly no one like you. ”
“ Will you hurt anyone? ” asked Hollen, flickering his eyes over the room.
Munro seemed lost to the monologue echoing in Hollen’s thoughts, shaking his head.
“ Yes ,” said George. “ I won’t be able to stop myself. Just like you, I can’t resist my nature for long. A vampire lives by drinking blood, and I sustain myself by other means .”
By taking my life. Hollen closed his eyes against the ache in his chest, his heart pounding when it had been so slow before. “ I need a minute with them, George. Let me say goodbye. ”
“ Of course .” George withdrew, shrinking until he was a hard ball in the middle of Hollen’s chest. He could still feel the traces of him in every limb, tingling and sparking, but he knew he was effectively alone.
“Munro?” Hollen whispered, reaching for Munro’s cheek. There was blood there for some reason, more on his fingers and stained between the cracks of his palm.
“I’ve got you. You’re okay,” said Munro, swiping his thumb over Hollen’s cheek. “Deep breaths, baby.”
Each breath was harder, every inhale an effort.
“I can’t let him hurt anyone ever again,” said Hollen, using the last of his strength to lift his arm and pull Munro to him, until his lips were settled against his neck. With the smell of his blood still in the air, Munro stiffened, placing a kiss on the area and trying to pull away. Hollen held him tight, refusing to let him escape—holding as tight as he could.
“I need you to bite me,” said Hollen, tightening his grip. “I want it.”
There were tears in Munro’s eyes as he pulled away, shaking his head as they streamed down his cheeks. Hollen half-expected them to be tinted with blood, but they were clear, just the same as his own. “I can’t.”
Hollen smiled, sinking into Munro’s arms. He tilted his head, exposing his neck. If he concentrated, he could feel the thud of blood under his skin there, each rush going to his head. “Yes, you can. Just open your mouth and take a bite, like you and I both want.”
“You don’t have a choice,” said Dara. “If the demon isn’t watching right now, this may be the only way to end him.”
Hollen blinked at her as Munro parted his wings, recognizing her for the first time. Adair was sobbing in her arms, his face pressed against her. He was wailing almost non-stop and getting louder with every inhale.
“I know.” Munro shuddered, closing his eyes. “I know.”
“I think flying with you was the best moment of my life,” said Hollen, letting his eyes flutter as he remembered the rush of wind. He could almost feel it on his cheeks, drying his tears as quickly as they came. “Your wings are so beautiful.”
Exhaustion tugged at him. “You don’t have much time.”
“Do it, Munro, or I will,” said Erie, taking a step forward.
Munro let out a shuddering breath. “I love you.”
*****
Munro
That taste was just like the first time, with liquid vermillion flooding his senses in an instant. The room was soaked with the scent of blood and earth, swirling together until it fizzled over his skin with absolute power.
Hollen went limp at the moment of the bite, his eyes rolling back as sweetness flooded his senses. Such a frail thing was filled to the brim with power, flowing into Munro’s mouth and coating his throat in warmth and darkness. His heartbeat stuttered, so close to failing that a rush of tears flowed over Munro’s cheeks, even as he swallowed. Hold on, baby.
“No! Stop!” Adair screamed, clawing at Dara as he was held back.
Blood filled his mouth again, even as Hollen’s heart slowed to nothing, pooling and flowing down his throat as he swallowed again and again. He sucked harder, drawing more until he could scarcely keep up with the flow.
Gorgo didn’t respond, Hollen’s body still.
It had been a long time since Munro had taken so much that he’d forgotten the thrill and high of it. But through the adrenaline, he had to watch his lover grow cold, all traces of life draining from his system until even the tattoos from Gorgo faded.
Hollen let out a sudden gasp, his eyes yellow as he opened them wide. Munro caught the sight in his periphery, clamping his teeth down hard.
“Bastard. This wasn’t our deal.” Gorgo’s voice was thick with agony. “I’ll kill you.”
Munro couldn’t take another swallow, blood bubbling past his lips as he pulled away, choking as his throat was flooded. Hollen’s arms were straining, his body rigid as he let out a low keen. Munro clamped down on his limbs, holding him still.
Yellow faded then flickered over Hollen’s eyes, his gaze locked on Munro’s.
“You killed him, you bastard,” said Gorgo, a hiss on his breath as he tried to move.
“No, you killed him,” yelled Adair, his screams cutting through the darkness.
“If you care for him like you said you did, you’ll let go now,” said Munro, wrapping a hand around Hollen’s throat.
Gorgo curled back his lips, blood staining his teeth. “They took love away from me. I haven’t known the meaning of it since.”
“Gorgo?” asked Adair, his voice soft and filled with grief.
Munro stayed his hand, turning toward the sound. Gorgo found him in a second with his gaze, his yellow eyes going wide. “Adair.”
“Hollen loved you,” said Adair, his back pressed to Dara with her arms wrapped around his waist. “I think I loved you, too.” He took a deep breath. “Please let him go—for me.”
There was a moment of hesitation when Munro held his breath, fire and sweat itching over his skin. It’s no use. We’re doomed. Their advantage was lost with Gorgo present.
Gorgo closed his eyes, his forehead smoothing as his struggles ceased. Blood seeped sluggishly from the wound on his neck, coating the floor in it. With death in the room, it should have smelled putrid, but it was the same as always, calling to Munro as he licked the drying blood from his own lips.
“I could have given you the world,” said Gorgo, his voice soft.
Adair shook his head. “I just want my best friend.”
Gorgo heaved in one last breath before his chest paused, his tattoos turning to mist that hovered in the air before disappearing as the sun cut through the fog.
“He’s gone,” called Dara, relaxing her hands. Adair cried out, lurching ahead and breaking her grip.
Jesus. Munro never thought he would hear those words. Hollen was so pale, his chest and heart still as the blood stopped flowing from him. In was clotting in a sticky pool, soaking into his hair and Munro’s clothes.
Adair rushed to his side, grasping Hollen’s face as a scream emerged from his mouth. It was the same scream that was trying to escape Munro’s own throat.
Not today.
He pulled Hollen close, scooping him under his legs and shoulders and lifting him from the floor. Hollen’s head lolled back, exposing the pierced wound on his neck.
“H-ollen,” said Adair his voice cracking. “No, let me see him.”
Munro shook his head. Am I doing this? His heart pounded as utter realization settled in.
“I’m the first vampire, and I created the second. When I did that, I gave him half my power, splitting myself in two. I never made another after that, letting the others split themselves until the line was diluted beyond repair. I hate what my line has become.”
He lowered his head to Hollen’s chest. The empty quiet was a wound to his heart. “But I can’t let you die, my love.” He brought his wrist to his mouth, ripping into the flesh until bone was exposed.
With blood streaming down his fingers, he plunged his hand into Hollen’s chest, his claws cutting through skin, and his strength breaking bones until Hollen’s heart was in his hand.
He squeezed it once before letting it go, willing his own blood to fill the gaps and soak in like a sponge after it had been left out to dry.
Hollen lay still, his head lolled back and his mouth dry.
Munro growled, squeezing his hand again and nearly crushing Hollen’s heart beneath his palm.
Hollen screamed, his eyes wide as he jerked, clawing at Munro’s hand. He would be able to feel everything, from his broken bones to the stretched and torn flesh.
Munro squeezed.