Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Zane
T he technomancer, Bin, gave us the address of a rundown garage in an old section of the city. It’s just off the Danforth. Dante and Link do a quick perimeter check and assure us that other than the three bodies they detect inside, there are no hidden threats.
The moment we step inside the side door, I’m hit with the acrid scent of oil and old rubber. It’s like walking into a tomb where machines go to die.
Tires are heaped haphazardly in the corners, some stacked so high they threaten to tumble over. Graffiti splashes across the concrete walls, a chaotic mural of rebellion of youth with something to prove.
Link scans the area with his hawk-like gaze, muscles coiled tight. Huntley stands beside him, his usual bravado replaced by a simmering tension. I glance at Dante. He’s got a fierce glint in his eyes, ready for action.
“All right.” I lower my voice. “Quiet and lethal.”
Dante steps forward, leading us down a narrow hallway lined with fluorescent lights hanging from their housings overhead. The air thickens as we approach an open space filled with shadows.
Dante stops and raises his hand, flashing us three fingers, then signaling that two are in one direction and the third is in another.
We infiltrate quietly, sticking to the shadows. If these were true-blooded vampires, we’d never be able to get the drop on them, but they’re not. They’re mutts turned by some dickwad who doesn’t understand how offensive his actions are. Or he does, but the power he desires makes it a moot point.
They’ve got themselves a ratty couch and a coffee table covered in dirty ashtrays and playing cards.
I motion for Dante and Link to take positions behind a rusted-out pickup truck while Huntley and I flank the other from behind an antique car.
The plan is simple: hit hard and fast.
With barely a breath between us, we attack.
Huntley lunges at the same time as Dante and Link. The Viking slams his concrete fist into the jaw of the lone guard and spins his head like it’s not connected to his spine—which it no longer is.
The asshole never saw it coming.
The other two vampires seem to have more fight in them. Link stumbles sideways, but quickly regains his balance, baring fangs as the motherfucker takes a swipe at his throat.
I don’t hesitate—I’m right behind Link and shove my fist through the guard’s midsection. He crumples over my elbow, and I shove him off my arm.
Dante’s lightning reflexes make quick work of the third guard, snapping his neck with a satisfying crack before launching him toward Link. “Present for you, buddy.”
“Asshole.” Link moves like lightning, dodging effortlessly as he grabs hold of the last guard’s neck and rips his head clean off. Without a pause, he chucks the bloody head at Dante and laughs as blood sprays across his shirt.
“That was just rude.”
The melee is short-lived, but every one of these fuckers we take down brings a fraction more control back to our lives.
“Link, you’ve got a knack for decapitation. You have the honors.” I point toward the other two bodies. “The rest of us are on intel gathering.”
The four of us spread out to search for something salvageable.
I step over debris—the blades of an old engine fan and a shattered glass bottle—working my way toward an ancient car with its hood propped open. The reek of gasoline mingles with rubber and oil.
It’s overpowering and familiar.
But as I pass it, a distinct scent—lurking beneath the others—prickles at my instincts. “Dante. Come smell this.”
Dante rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You’re a king now, Zane. Cropdusting is beneath you.”
I peg him with a look and Huntley barks a laugh over by the couches.
“Fuck off, both of you. No, seriously. What’s this smell?”
Dante strides over to stand by me and lifts his nose to the air, drawing in a long breath. He frowns and moves to sniff again at the air above the hood of the old car. His posture stiffens immediately—his whole demeanor shifts.
“Get back!” He whirls, panic in his wide gaze. Both of his arms thrust out, catching me squarely in the chest. It’s like being hit by a missile and I’m thrown backward into the air.
Before I can process anything, an earth-shattering blast erupts. A detonation wave of fire and metal hits and I’m caught in a tidal wave of flames and shrapnel.
Life-stealing pain explodes from everywhere at once and heat engulfs me. Screams blend with the roar of the inferno and, despite the brilliance of it all, darkness takes me…
Huntley
The air is thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning rubber as the explosion rips through the garage. It’s horrifying—flames swirling up from the skeletal remains of cars, clinging to the walls, and raining down like fiery confetti from a nightmarish Hellscape.
When Dante screamed, I turned in time to see his body disintegrated behind the force of the initial blast—a five-hundred-year-old warrior reduced to nothing more than ash and shadow.
But even more terrifying was seeing Zane thrown backward like a rag doll and swallowed by a wall of flame.
Time froze.
For the most horrendous moment of my life, I face a world without Zane in it.
Then the thundering rush of my pulse whooshes loud inside my head and I snap the fuck out of it.
He can’t be dead.
“Zane!” His name tears from my throat as I break through the shock. Scrambling over shattered glass and twisted metal, I cough against the smoke that claws inside my lungs.
Fire scorches my skin, singeing my hair and bubbling the flesh on my palms as I crawl through the wreckage. The world feels surreal. I’m trapped in a twisted horror movie.
Zane can’t be gone. Not now. Never.
“Zane!” My voice is hoarse, barely cutting through the noise of the surrounding chaos.
“Zane! Where the fuck are you?” I catch sight of him sprawled on the ground and my knees buckle. Staggering forward, I scramble to get to him.
If his head is intact, he’ll survive.
If he’s whole, he’ll thrive.
The Vasari bloodline is legendary. Francesco was an original Fondatori King. The power and strength of our race is strong in him.
Every moment it takes for me to get to him feels like an eternity.
Debris shifts beneath me, threatening to drag me down. My clothes are on fire, the synthetic fabrics burning my body everywhere at once.
The pain is incredible, but nothing compared to the pain I felt when I thought Zane was dead.
A heavy weight crashes down on my back and knocks me to my knees. The building is collapsing in on itself and won’t be standing much longer.
I twist to push off the weight of a structural metal beam and close the final distance to Zane.
My knees hit the concrete floor as I collapse over him and take a moment to feel the sturdiness of his body beneath mine.
“You’re all right. I’ve got you.” I haul him up against me despite the pain coursing through every part of my body. The side entrance we came through is gone, but so is half the back wall.
“C’mon, gem?cca. We gotta get out of here.”
It’s certainly not the slickest rescue, but never count a vampire down until its head is gone. There are other ways a vampire can die, obviously, but none that will claim either of us tonight.
The air outside the garage is still hot, but nothing like the heat of being engulfed in flames, and the sudden drop in temperature makes me shiver.
The outside world is reeling from the blast, sirens wailing in the distance like banshees closing in on us.
“Where are Link and Dante?” Zane gasps out, pushing away from me.
“Dante is gone. I have no fucking idea where Link is.”
“We need to get him.”
“You need to stop fighting me!” Anger surges through as adrenaline pumps in my veins. “I need a fucking minute, Z! Okay? I thought I fucking lost you.”
My voice cracks at the end of that sentence. “You’re my fucking ride or die and I thought you might be gone forever!”
Zane sags against me. His usual bright green gaze is clouded with pain and resignation. He reaches up and cups my jaw, the look on his face a raw vulnerability that makes my chest ache. “I love you too, Viking.”
Those words burn brighter than any fire ever could—cutting through the fear and grief of the last ten minutes and leaving only raw truth behind.
I drop my forehead to his, our hearts hammering in sync despite everything crashing down around us.
He loves me.
I’ve felt it. I’ve hoped for it. But he’s never said it—not before tonight.
I meet his lips with mine and though they taste of blood and soot, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except for him being alive and him loving me. The rest of the world can sort itself out.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m trapped in there and you two are out here making out?” We turn to meet the dazed fury of Link as he staggers out from the burning building. “And where the fuck is Dante?”
Scottie
“Close your eyes,” Jack instructs, his voice carrying the weight of decades of experience. “Focus on your breath.”
Tucker settles on the training mat beside me, his warm presence both comforting and distracting. The fact that in the past twenty-four hours I’ve died, wiped out the power for the entire compound, and blasted him across the room makes my stomach clench.
I need to get a handle on my emotions.
Dull the chaos and accept the life before me.
I do as Jack says and close my eyes. It’s scary and jarring. Cutting off one of my senses heightens the others and the chaos inside of me goes wild. My eyes snap open. “Oh, man, it’s mayhem in my mind.”
“That’s exactly why you need to do this.” Jack kneels in front of me. “The magic is responding to your emotional state. The stress of being back here. Of your father’s and Francesco’s death. Of having to deal with Zane and Huntley. It’s consuming you. Your powers magnify that.”
“So, that will stop when I accept my fate?”
“First, you need to work through it and calm your emotions. Right now, your emotions are controlling your powers instead of the other way around.”
I hear what Jack’s saying, but it’s not like I haven’t been controlling them. “Everything about being here and missing my father and spending time with Zane and Huntley hurts. I’m trying, but it’s everything and everywhere all the time.”
Tucker’s hand finds mine, our shared magical signature humming between us. “We’re here to help you through that, beautiful. You’re not alone in this.”
I’m not? It sure feels like I am.
“Try again, kid. Find your center.”
I close my eyes and follow Jack’s instructions, to breathe deeply and find my center. Memories of Zane and Huntley cloud my mind. Seven years of pain and rejection surge through me, feeding the dangerous current of magic.
The heartbroken pain in Huntley’s eyes. He loved me. He wanted me to love him, too. And all I saw was Zane and me, and my pain. All these years, I hated him and regretted turning to him, but I hurt him just as deeply.
“Scotland.” Jack’s tone turns sharp. “Let it go. The past is killing you.”
Hot tears warm my cheeks. “I’m drowning in pain and don’t know how to get past it.”
Jack sighs close beside me. “I can give you a magical bypass, but it won’t change anything. It’ll just take the pain away.”
“I’ll take it. Yes. If the agony eases, I know I’ll be able to rebuild.”
“Then repeat after me: I release what no longer serves me. My emotions flow pure and true. My heart that’s suffered deserves peace. May my spirit and soul renew.”
Sentence by sentence I repeat after Jack. The words gain power as I say them, the magic in my cells sizzling as if happy to be given direction.
When I finish, a wave of energy washes through me. It’s different from the energy blast last night. Instead of destruction, it brings clarity.
The weight I’ve carried for years—the rejection, the heartbreak, the anger, and the loss—dissolves like mist in sunlight.
I gasp, my eyes flying open. The crackling beneath my skin settles into a steady, controlled hum.
“Holy shit.”
I don’t think meditation is supposed to feel like I’m strapped to a runaway train, but since I spoke Jack’s bypass spell, everything in me is restructuring.
I sit cross-legged on the padded floor of the training room, my eyes closed, focusing on my breath. Everything in me is a mess of emotional realignment.
“Let it go, kid. Don’t fight it.”
With Jack’s voice guiding me, I breathe in deeply, feeling the air fill my lungs. But even after his calming spell, something isn’t right.
Is it me? Am I too broken to be fixed?
I focus on the words he had me recite.
I release what no longer serves me. My emotions flow pure and true. My heart that’s suffered deserves peace. May my spirit and soul renew.
It’s a freeing mantra and I feel lighter, having accepted the wisdom of those words.
So, what’s the problem?
I turn my attention inward and follow the unrest. It takes a moment to find the source of the issue, but when I do…pain radiates through my squire bond with Zane. It’s overwhelming and comes from everywhere all at once.
“He’s hurt.” I spring up, the meditative calm shattered.
“Who’s hurt?” Tucker is on his feet and beside me.
“Zane!” The name bursts from my lips as I dash out of the training room and through the adjoining royal residence. My pulse quickens with every step, a primal urge to get to him surging through me.
I shove open the double doors to his suite and scan for any sign of him.
Empty.
I pivot on my heel and sprint back to my suite and my room within. My phone is sitting in its docking station, and I grab it and sink into my desk chair. With trembling fingers, I swipe it open and track his location.
My breath catches when I see he’s outside the compound walls. “Damn it! He did it again! He left me behind and went off again! ”
My heart sinks at the thought of him out there and hurting. “He shouldn’t be taking risks without me by his side. I’m his Sacred Squire.”
“Forgive me for saying so, beautiful,” Tucker says, “but he was pretty pissed earlier, and you’ve made it clear you don’t want to be his squire.”
I slide my feet into my sneakers and grab a jacket and my purse from behind my bedroom door. “He was furious about me sleeping with Huntley, but that’s personal. I’m still his squire.”
“You slept with Huntley?”
I blink up and realize I’m talking out loud. “Yes, on the night Zane rejected me, I turned to Huntley when he came to check on me. One thing led to another, and a life-altering decision was made.”
And now that I know Huntley loved me and it wasn’t all about me being a conquest, I admit, it was a lovely first time.
My rubber soles pound out a frustrated rhythm as I bolt through the corridors, making my way to street level. “Anyway, Zane and I are supposed to be partners in this whole squire relationship, thing. He’s not allowed to just go off on his own.”
Tucker keeps pace with me easily and despite me being in my head and pissed at Zane, I appreciate that he’s here to back me up. “Technically, he’s the king and feels confident he can do what he wants.”
“Well, he can’t. And if it takes me handcuffing us together, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it again.”
“You could, but that would make it very difficult to fight off attackers.”
I peg Tucker with a look. “Whose side are you on?”
He chuckles. “Yours, beautiful…always yours. But you only decided to be his squire half an hour ago. Zane hasn’t even heard the news. Calm down and focus on what’s important.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Getting Zane home safely.”
He’s right, of course. Tucker doesn’t get flustered in chaos, he gets eerily at ease. And with him sauntering along beside me, my anxiety dissipates.
Right. Get Zane home safely.
Reaching the main exit, I access the tracking app to check his whereabouts. “He’s coming home.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
I blink up at those warm, caramel eyes and my pounding heart flutters. “It’ll make it easier for me to beat him senseless, so, yeah, that’s a good thing.”
The parking garage has a public section and a private section for the Vasari vehicles. I burst through the heavy doors and stop to check how far out they are.
“Holy cow, look at these cars.” Tucker whistles long and low as he passes me to admire the high-end cars lined up like sleek soldiers ready for battle.
“You’ve never been in this part of the garage?”
“Nope.”
“Well, this is Francesco’s prized collection.”
From his Ford Model T to the Bentley to the Ferraris, Francesco’s girls glisten under the fluorescent lights, here to stand silent witnesses to whatever chaos Zane has stepped into this time.
And despite how annoyed I am at him for leaving, when the armored SUV with blackout windows comes down the ramp and parks next to the limited-edition Bugatti, I’m relieved, too.
Not that I’ll tell him that. He’s going to get my full wrath. I’ll make sure he never thinks about?—
Zane opens the door to the back seat and the moment I see him, my stomach drops—he’s bleeding and covered in soot, his expensive suit hanging in tattered rags off his blistered skin.
“Ohmygod, Z.” I rush forward and catch myself before flinging myself into his arms. “Shit. You smell like a bonfire.”
“You say the sweetest things.”
I step back to give him room to get out of the truck, but with his injuries, he isn’t in any rush.
Huntley exits the driver’s side of the vehicle, and he looks even worse. His clothes are melted into the oozing blisters of his flesh, his normally icy blue gaze haunted and hollowed out.
It’s a look I know too well. It’s how everyone has looked at me since the night of the attack. I press my hand against my throat. “Who did we lose?”
“Dante.”
I want to hug him, but he’s in no condition to be touched. I realize it would be the only contact I’ve had with him since I’ve been back—well, other than snapping his neck and him saving my life last night.
How did we get here?
His left cheek isn’t injured, so I place my palm against his soot-covered face. “I’m sorry, H. I’m sorry for all of it. You deserved so much better from me. I’ll do better, I swear.”
My words come from a place of new beginnings, and I realize I truly have released the pain and anger I shielded myself with for too long.
Huntley’s eyes shimmer with something that twists deep within me—pain? Guilt? He brushes it aside as he places a gentle hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry, too, princess.”
Link passes us, barely tracking. My heart goes out to him. Link and Dante have been friends for centuries. “I’ll break the news to Angelo.”
Zane frowns down at the state of himself. “I’ll come with you. I should?—”
“—It’s fine. You look like hell, sire. Tend to your injuries. I’ll explain to Angelo. You can speak to him once you’ve healed.”
Zane begins to protest and I touch his arm and shake my head. “Angelo’s world is about to be blown apart. It won’t help to see you bleeding and torn apart. Tomorrow is soon enough.”
When he’s through the double doors, I ease back and look them over. “What went wrong?”
Huntley closes his eyes and shrugs. “We tracked the address of where the funds were being drained from Vasari Industries. It was a run-down garage. We were looking around and Zane smelled something weird. Dante recognized it as some form of explosive and then kaboom.”
Zane grunts and slides out of the truck and onto his feet. “Dante was standing at the detonation point.”
My chest constricts painfully as the image forms in my head. Dante was a good man and one hell of a royal guard. He will be mourned and missed.
I press my hand against the ache in my chest. “We have to stop losing people we love.”
Zane lays his arm heavily across my shoulder and turns us away from the cars. “I know. And we need to make Lazarus Kaza pay for taking them from us.”
“True fucking story.” Huntley slides in on my other side and presses his cheek to the top of my head.
I let the two of them walk me back inside, but glance back to check on Tucker. He nods as if everything is as it is meant to be and gives me a wink.
“If you’re being honest with me and true to yourself, nothing you decide will ever bother me, beautiful. I’m all in.”
Wow. Could this really be my life?