Chapter 20 #2
The locket collapsed inward with a brittle snap, the metal crumpling in on itself as the magic holding it together failed all at once. A puff of red flame flashed across Sammy’s palm, then vanished, leaving behind nothing but twisted fragments and dust that sifted through his fingers to the floor.
Silence rushed in as the hum in the air cut off. For one fragile, impossible heartbeat, disappointment tried to take root when he realized he felt no different.
It hit him all at once, light and dizzying, like the first full breath after being held underwater too long. The weight he hadn’t even realized he carried lifted, leaving him hollow in its wake.
“I—” Sammy laughed weakly, breathless. “I think—”
The world tilted.
The relief shattered.
Something surged beneath his skin, sharp and crawling, like a thousand tiny sparks racing beneath the surface. His pulse stuttered, then slammed hard against his ribs, too fast, too loud.
“Dominic—”
The word broke on a gasp.
Lights stuttered overhead, the chandelier flickering as a low, thrumming pressure filled the room. The air felt wrong. Too thick, too charged, pressing in on him from all sides.
Sammy’s hands trembled, and his vision blurred, dimmed. He dragged in a breath, trying to steady himself, but it didn’t help. The sensation only intensified, spreading outward like pure energy that slithered through his veins.
“Something’s—” He swallowed hard, fingers curling. “Something’s wrong.”
“Easy,” Dominic soothed, holding Sammy’s face between his hands. “Deep breath, colibrí. You’re okay.”
The lights flickered again, and bulbs in the chandelier exploded one by one like party poppers. Glass rained down from the ceiling, only to dissolve into sand before reaching the floor.
“Sammy!” His mate barked his name, forcing his attention. “That’s it. Look at me. Breathe.” He stroked his thumbs over Sammy’s cheeks in long, sweeping lines. “You have to calm down.”
Sammy arched an eyebrow at him. “You calm down.”
Dominic chuckled. Bastard.
“Stay with me,” he murmured, voice dropping back into that steady, grounding cadence. “Tell me how you make cinnamon rolls.”
Sammy blinked at him. “Are you serious right now?”
“Cinnamon rolls,” Dominic repeated, thumbs still brushing over his cheeks. “Walk me through it. Start with the dough.”
Another light popped overhead. Sammy flinched, but Dominic didn’t let him look away.
“Flour,” Sammy said automatically, the word slipping out before he could stop it. “You start with flour.”
“Good,” Dominic praised softly. “How much?”
“Three cups. More if it’s humid, which it always is in Louisiana.” His brow furrowed as his mind snagged on the detail. “You have to adjust it, or the dough gets too sticky.”
“There you go,” Dominic said, voice calm, even as another fixture flickered violently behind him. “What next?”
“Yeast,” he said, a little more firmly this time. “Warm milk. Not hot. You’ll kill it if it’s too hot.”
The pressure in his chest eased a fraction.
“How warm?” Dominic prompted.
“About a hundred and ten degrees. You let it bloom first. It gets…foamy.”
His mate continued to trace slow, steady lines along his cheekbones. “Keep going.”
“Sugar. Butter. Eggs. Salt.” His breath hitched, but steadied quickly. “You mix it together with the yeast, then add the flour slowly. Don’t dump it all in at once.”
A glass globe over the fireplace shattered, dissolving into drifting grains that floated to the floor.
Sammy noticed, but he didn’t flinch this time.
“You knead it.” He spoke slower now, quieter. “Until it’s smooth. Elastic. It shouldn’t stick to your hands.”
“Good,” Dominic murmured. “And then?”
“You let it rise.” He exhaled shakily, and his eyelids fluttered. “Warm place. Covered. About an hour…until it doubles.”
Finally, the buzzing under his skin dulled, fading from a roar to a low hum.
Dominic leaned in, resting his forehead briefly against Sammy’s. “That’s it,” he said softly. “You’re doing great.”
Sammy huffed a weak laugh. “I’m literally baking in the middle of a meltdown.”
“And doing an excellent job of it.” Dominic’s lips curved before brushing against his in a chaste, tender kiss. “How do you feel now?”
“A little better.”
He still didn’t understand what the hell had just happened, or why he felt like his soul was going to vibrate into another plane of existence. At least the room had stopped detonating, though.
“Thank you,” he whispered, arching into his mate for another kiss.
“Any time.”
“What’s happening to me?” he asked, his voice riding the edge of pleading.
Dominic searched his face with an unreadable expression. “We should go.”
“Dom.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t the place. We’ll talk about it at—”
His roar rattled the windowpanes and shook the walls. Lips peeled back from his teeth. Eyes flared amber, then bright gold, and the skin pulled taut across his face.
Dominic shoved Sammy backward with one hand while he reached over his shoulder with the other, clawing at the pale blond head buried against the crook of his neck.
Henri snarled, a feral, deranged sound that turned Sammy’s blood to ice. The mask was gone, the polished veneer stripped away, leaving only the monster beneath.
Eyes wide and crazed, his fangs buried in Dominic’s skin, there was a franticness about him now, a madness that burned away all traces of humanity.
Time slowed, crawling in slow motion as Sammy watched a river of blood spill from his mate’s neck and soak into the front of his shirt. Anger and fear battled inside him, both tinged with the frustration of uselessness.
“No!” he screamed, his voice ripping painfully from his throat.
Something inside him snapped.
Not cleanly. Not neatly. It tore loose.
Something cold and biting surged through him, flooding every nerve at once. The strange, crawling energy that had been simmering beneath his skin erupted outward, no longer contained, no longer waiting.
Henri jerked.
A strangled sound tore from his throat as his body went rigid, and his grip on Dominic faltered. His fangs slipped free, blood spilling fresh and bright from the corners of his mouth.
He landed on the floor and staggered backward, his face contorted with a combination of confusion and fear as he stared down at his hands.
Thin cracks split across his skin, splintering outward from his fingertips. Light burned beneath the surface, not red, not fire, but something brighter. Something that pulsed in time with Sammy’s racing heartbeat.
“What—”
Whatever he meant to say, he never got to finish.
The cracks widened, and light poured through them. His body fractured, but not with force. It was subtler than that, gentler, like something that had already broken and was only now realizing it.
Bit by bit, the vampire collapsed in on himself, flesh and bone unraveling into glowing fragments that drifted downward, dimming as they fell. By the time they touched the floor, they were nothing more than dull, smoldering ash.
Sammy stood frozen, chest heaving, ears ringing as the last remnants scattered across the stone.
“I—” His voice shook. “I didn’t—” His gaze snapped to Dominic, panic rising fast and sharp. “You—you did that. Right?”
Please say yes.
Dominic stared at the ash for a long time before lifting his eyes to Sammy.
“No, colibrí,” he answered quietly. His hand came up, fingers brushing Sammy’s cheek. “You did.”