20. Rowan #2
Evangeline and Kai lifted the limp body, positioning Cris on his lifeless knees, and Cecile ripped off his head with brute strength.
Rowan gasped, choking on a sob as pressure released from his chest. It was over. Thank the Damned Lord.
Lane cradled him close. For some reason, he was still shaking, but Lane didn’t seem to mind. “He’s dead. He won’t ever hurt you again,” Lane promised.
Rowan finally found the coordination required to nod.
The presence lingering in his blood was gone.
No trace remained. A hundred years ago, he’d been convinced he’d attained this freedom.
It must have been a trick played by Cris’s prolonged, temporary death, rendering the sire-bond dormant.
His starved, weakened state once he woke would have clouded the bond further.
When Cris finally recovered, he must have masked his presence with magic, biding his time until he was ready to seek Rowan out, knowing that once they were close, Rowan would sense it.
If Rowan hadn’t been cursed around the same time Cris settled in Shearwater Landing, would he have been more suspicious of his renewed presence? Given how subtle the sensation was after the curse broke, Rowan didn’t think so. He’d have dismissed it as residual trauma and nothing more.
Rowan did his best to explain this all to Lane, but composure was a lost cause, and he tripped over his words.
Lane helped Rowan to his feet. “Don’t worry about the details now. It isn’t your fault for not seeing this coming.”
The tangle of guilt building inside Rowan unraveled. Lane was right, and chastising himself served no one. “Did we get all of Cris’s supporters? Is it over?”
The tenderness fled Lane’s expression. “My father is still alive.”
Like he’d been hit with cold water, Rowan pulled himself together, metal armor clicking into place. Lane had saved him, but now it was Rowan’s turn.
He straightened and took in the scene before him. Cecile, Evangeline, and Kai all appeared fine. Cris, the Orlov vampire, the unidentified witch, and the witch who’d cursed Lane were all dead, and Jack held Marshall Blackburn on his knees.
Rowan faced Lane. “I need to question him.”
He was pale, but nodded. “I’ve got a few things to ask myself.”
They stepped forward. Rowan wished he could spare Lane this, but only Marshall had the power to save him from the worst, depending on exactly what he was doing here.
“Lane!” His father reached for him, but didn’t try to escape Jack’s hold. “I’m so glad you’re all right!”
“What the hell are you doing here, Father?” Lane sounded deeply hurt.
“I didn’t want to come.” Marshall’s desperate expression flitted from Lane to Rowan. “I refused when the Hillmans told me their sights were set on Shearwater Landing. I swear.”
“And yet, here you are,” Rowan observed.
“Not by choice. I never wanted to cross you again. I’m not stupid, but the Hillmans told me they had Lane captive and…and they’d kill him if I didn’t do as they asked.”
“Why?” Lane sounded baffled. “Why did they need you? And how did the Hillmans lead to Cris?”
“He’s their coven leader. The one I met was a fake.
The whole coven was a sham, and without the Blackburns, Cris said he didn’t have enough witches.
He was gathering Rowan’s old enemies, but I don’t think he found as many vampires as he wanted.
He saw me as an easy recruit.” Mashall’s face twisted in disgust, apparently thinking Cris’s scheme beneath him.
Interesting. Marshall should still want to take out the Valeros if he believed they were villains.
Even if he’d learned his lesson about how hard Rowan was to beat, he wouldn’t begrudge someone else moving against a coven he saw as evil.
Unless he no longer believed the Valeros were the bad guys.
Had Marshall come around to the truth Lane had tried to tell him?
“Where are the rest of the Hillmans?” Rowan asked, sticking to the most pressing issue.
Marshall sagged in defeat. Jack’s hold seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright.
“The two who snuck into your building never returned, and besides these men”—he gestured to the dead witches—“I’m not convinced there are any others.
I only met four, and from what I’ve gathered since getting here, the Hillman Coven was a lie created by Cris to recruit witches who didn’t like you, but by the time I arrived, he seemed bored of scrounging for support. It was taking too long.”
No wonder Cecile found nothing on the Hillmans.
Rowan moved on. “Are there any other feral vampires or humans being held captive?”
Marshall shook his head vehemently.
“We didn’t find evidence of anyone,” Evangeline added, with a nod of agreement from Kai.
At least no one else would suffer at Cris’s cruel hands. Rowan had the absurd urge to thank Satan, even though he knew the Devil, and he had nothing to do with this stroke of luck.
“When the fighting broke out, you attacked your fellow conspirator.” Rowan pointed to the dead witch who had held Jack along with Marshall. “Why?”
“Of course I attacked him.” Marshall drew himself up as best he could. “They lied about Lane. He wasn’t being held captive, he was right there with you. I only went along with their terrible plan to find him and bring him home.”
“Where are the other Blackburns?” Lane asked, a slight wobble to his voice.
“Home. I said I’d call on them once I’d seen you safe.”
“And they let you leave everyone behind? The Hillmans believed I was dead. They cursed me with a near-incurable parasite.”
Marshall’s face went ashen. “Satan, save me. Dead?”
An echo of horror constricted Rowan’s heart.
The Hillmans had meant to kill Lane on the off chance he warned Rowan of their plan.
Not Marshall, as Lane had believed. Lane’s death would have been all Rowan’s fault, and they hadn’t even been associates at the time.
What had the Hillmans been thinking? Had they heard Lane sided with Rowan against his father, seen him in Shearwater Landing, and assumed he was here with the Valeros?
It was a good thing they were all dead, or Rowan would have made them pay for killing on such a stupid assumption.
When no one refuted Lane’s claim that he’d almost been murdered, Marshall’s expression hardened. “If that’s the case, I suspect Cris planned to hypnotize me to call the rest of the Blackburns here. He seemed happy to take my support by force, especially when things weren’t going the way he hoped.”
“I see.” Rowan folded his hands behind his back. Perhaps this was why Cris had turned to witches when he couldn’t find more support among vampires. He could control an army, and he’d always preferred using people over working with them.
Rowan had no further questions, and Lane seemed to have no more to say, so Rowan gestured to Jack, and he released Lane’s father.
Marshall got to his feet and staggered toward his son. “When I saw you stun Cris, then stab him, my heart stopped. You were fearless. I’m so proud of you, Lane.”
Lane’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak.
“You should be proud.” Rowan leveled a glare. “You have a remarkable son. He found out about the Hillmans’ treachery and came to warn me even though he was dying.”
“You found out the Hillmans were after the Valeros? Lane, I’m so sorry I asked you to leave. When I thought I might lose you…”
“I’m glad you came for me, Father. When I saw you here, I feared you’d been in on this all along.”
Marshall flinched. “I’m sorry.”
Lane gave a sad sigh and leaned against Rowan.
Even on this horrible day, being with Lane felt right, almost like divine alignment, magic like Rowan had never known.
Perhaps that was the key to keeping Lane forever.