Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Tucker
B locking Scottie from danger the best I can, I shift closer to the wide, rough-barked trunk of the nearest trees. Scottie’s shoulder brushes mine as we maintain our position among the ancient oaks.
A twig snaps behind us.
I spin, but Daeva is already there. She comes at Scottie, swinging her extended claws, her burgundy hair flying, a cruel smile twisting her lips. I throw out my palm, striking her square in the chest and knocking her backward into the tree behind us.
Five vampires materialize from the shadows. We’re surrounded in an instant.
“You fucking bitch!” Scottie’s voice drips with malice as she drops into a fighting stance beside me. Power crackles in the air, her squire magic coming to life. “You’re not leaving here alive.”
Daeva chuckles. “You understand that we’re vampires and you’re a living juice box, right?”
“You’re not real vampires,” Scottie scoffs. “You’ve got stumpy little fangs and tainted blood. You’re mutt abominations.”
They attack as one. I dodge the lunge of the first vampire, my fist connecting with his jaw. The crack of bone is satisfying. Scottie’s magic flares, sending another attacker flying into a tree trunk.
“Alec, take the girl!” Daeva commands.
A dark-haired vampire charges. His speed is impressive, but there’s no way I’m letting him take Scottie. I launch between him and Scotland, blocking his strikes and his access to my mate.
Behind me, Scottie is holding her own against Daeva and another one of her vamp army. From what I’ve learned, she has always been one hell of a fighter and now, with her squire powers coming into play, she’s even better.
She hasn’t totally learned to wield her powers, but even with what she knows, they make her stronger and faster. She’s also creating a deadly light show.
Alec takes another run at getting around me to access Scottie. My size gives me an advantage as I grab him out of the air and slam him to the ground. I follow up with a knee to his sternum and am about to snap his neck when I get tackled by two more from behind.
There are too many.
Fangs graze my neck and the animal inside me rages. “No fucking way.”
With the fury of my bear roaring out of me in a growl, I reach behind my head and grab the one sucking on my neck. I give him a wicked shake as I bring him around to my chest. A solid grip on his hair gives me the hold I need to rip his head off and I toss the bloody skull at the next one up.
“Tucker!” Scottie’s scream cuts through the chaos.
Daeva has Scottie’s wrist, yanking her away from me. The bitch twists and Scottie screams.
My mate’s cry of pain fuels my rage.
I throw my other attacker off, but Alec has a hold on Scottie now and is racing away. I move to follow, but Daeva intercepts. With her and two others coming at me, coordinating their attacks, I can’t get around them to get to Scottie.
Another roar tears from my chest as my bear unleashes its full fury.
A blow to my knee shatters my kneecap and sends me stumbling sideways. I fight to get back on my feet, pushing forward, but three sets of hands drag me back. My muscles strain as I fight their grip. One of them lands a hit that makes my vision blur.
“Let her go!” I roar, watching helplessly as Daeva’s charge carries Scottie into the shadows.
“Now, why would we do that?” Daeva’s laugh echoes through the trees. “We’ve gone to a lot of trouble because of her. No. Our master has something very special planned for Miss Scotland McCullough.”
I break free from one vampire, but the others slam me face-first into the ground. The grit of dirt and tang of blood fills my mouth. I push up, my arms shaking with the effort, but a boot between my shoulder blades forces me back down. “Give our regards to Zane.”
And with that, they’re gone.
With both palms braced against the ground, I get up, but it’s no use.
They’re gone…and they took Scottie with them.
Scottie
The car jerks around a corner, the tires squelching on the asphalt as my fanger captors make their hasty retreat. I’m wedged between two turned thugs and the velocity of the change in direction throws me to the side. Rough hands catch me, and I’m shoved back to sit upright once more.
“Tell me why we don’t just kill her?”
“Because those aren’t our orders,” Daeva replies.
My wrists ache from the plastic ties biting into my skin and from Daeva wrenching it back in the fight. The black canvas bag over my head isn’t much fun either. It’s suffocating and keeps me from getting my bearings.
Panic flickers in my chest, but I quash it down.
I hear Da’s voice in my head. ‘Chaos has no place in a crisis.’
I know. Clear thinking is the key to working through any crisis. Da drilled that into me from the time I was old enough to understand the danger lurking in the shadows. Crisis management is practically second nature.
Not that it has always worked in my favor.
Dark images seep through the cracks of my memory—unwelcome flashes of the time in New York when everything spiraled out of control without Zane or my father to keep me grounded.
I twist my wrists, trying to loosen the bonds, but they bite harder. A sharp intake of breath barely escapes before I stifle it. This is not that. I’m not the same na?ve girl I was then…straight out of a protected life.
It’s not fear dragging me under. It’s a gnawing sense of vulnerability creeping back in like a nasty cold front.
Daeva’s voice cuts through the darkness of my emotions, smooth and mocking, from the front seat. “We have her.”
What? This is a targeted kidnapping? I thought it was a crime of convenience, of Daeva plotting some twisted torture for payback because I screwed up her plans to capture Zane the night of the attack.
“Understood, sire. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
Sire? She’s taking me to her maker?
My stomach twists as my need to escape shifts into something much more primal—my need to end Lazarus Kaza. In the weeks since he ordered the death of my father and Francesco, he’s remained well and truly hidden.
If they’re taking me to him…
I sit back and shift my plans from how I’ll escape to how I’ll handle a face-to-face with Lazarus Kaza.
Sensory deprivation was one of my favorite lessons. With a bag over my head, the world outside feels foreign at first. Muffled sounds blend into a chaotic symphony—a car alarm set off somewhere in the distance, the sound of stop and go traffic, the warbled echo of music as we pass a nightclub.
But when you boil it all down, it paints a picture in the mind.
City streets, a residential neighborhood, the financial district, the fashion district, the docks…they all have their own feel to them.
“The poor little orphan girl, Scotland McCullough.” Daeva’s voice is saccharine sweet as it drifts back from the front seat and interrupts my focus. “I fail to see what the fuss is about.”
I don’t respond. The longer she rambles to fill the empty silence, the more she might let slip. Like why would there be any fuss about me? Isn’t their entire plan to seize the Vasari seat of power?
There’s still so much we don’t know.
The car slows to a stop and I take a deep breath. My heart is racing. Whether it’s panic or anticipation, it’s hard to tell. I know my best chance of escape is before they take me inside the home or building of my enemy.
But is escaping my goal?
If I allow them to take me inside, there’s a real possibility I may never leave here alive. But if I don’t, I might miss out on the chance to meet the man behind the madness.
‘Think strategically, lass,’ Da’s voice says in my head. ‘Weigh the outcomes. Is it worth it to take the risk?’
To find the man who killed you and possibly bring him down and keep Zane from suffering the same fate?
Yes, that’s worth anything.
In New York, I’d learned how quickly things turn lethal when I don’t keep my wits about me. I was new to the city, didn’t understand the corrupt powers at play, and was used to being sheltered and protected by the biggest shark in Toronto.
I was hurt and na?ve and unprepared.
I’m none of those things anymore.
This time is different—I’m not the same girl I was back then. I am smarter, have squire powers surging within me, and am driven by the strongest motivation a warrior could have—my duty to those I love.
My duty to safeguard Zane.
My duty to avenge Da and Francesco.
My duty to weed out the danger threatening the Vasari clan and Toronto as a whole.
The backseat doors open on both sides of me and then rough hands grab my arm and I’m yanked to one side and dragged across the bench seat. I get my feet under me as I drop out of the car, but the jostling doesn’t do my bound wrists any favors.
“I hope your mutts are in control of their baby fanger bloodlust because my wrists are bleeding and I’ve been told my blood is like an aphrodisiac.”
“Shut up, bitch!” the guy yanking me by the elbow barks.
The early morning chill is cut off as we move inside and the sounds of the city are replaced by the hissing of what I’m fairly sure is a milk frother on a coffee machine. The inviting scents of baked goods and dark roast penetrate the canvas of the bag over my head and now I’m thoroughly confused.
Did I get kidnapped and taken to a Starbucks?
That’s nice of them.
“Sit down,” Daeva commands sharply.
There’s a scraping of chair legs across a hard floor and then hands shove me sideways and down. My butt connects against the hard seat and protests with a burst of pain.
“Easy dude. I’m human. We aren’t made to withstand the same damage as you are.”
I take it from the lack of response that he doesn’t care.
Wrists bound, I press my hands flat against the table and draw a steadying breath. So far, so good. If they wanted to kill me, they would have. It seems that’s not the plan.
“Wait here and watch her. I’ll let him know we’ve arrived.” The click of Daeva’s boot heels marks her unhurried steps as she strides past me and through another door. I imagine it to be the back room of a restaurant or the door to an upper apartment.
Muffled voices in the distance have Daeva laughing, and then there’s a long beat of silence when a man’s voice cuts through. I can’t hear them clearly enough to catch the conversation, but something about the gravelly tone of his voice makes bile rise in my throat.
It feels familiar but I can’t place from where I recognize it.
Closing my eyes, I calm myself, focusing on the timbre of Lazarus’ voice. Do I know him? Have I heard his voice over a speakerphone call in Da’s office? I empty my mind, shaking loose the truth of how I know his voice.
It’s too faint to know for sure.
It’s fine. In a moment he’ll come out here, take the bag off my head and the mystery will be solved.
Any minute now…