Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
A s King stepped out of the waiting area, leaving Amara behind, his entire demeanor shifted. His features darkened, and a fierce energy radiated from him, his body strung as tight as a bowstring. Every muscle coiled with barely restrained fury. The beast inside him wanted blood...wanted to destroy whoever had hurt Joey. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles cracking from the pressure. Someone was going to pay, and King would make damn sure they suffered for every ounce of pain Joey had endured.
His thoughts churned with Slade’s grim words about Joey’s leg. A crushed leg. King clenched his jaw so tightly it ached. He knew enough about dance to understand what that kind of injury could mean. Joey’s dreams, his whole future, teetered on the edge of ruin. A brutal fury ignited in King’s chest, so consuming it felt like fire coursing through his veins. The image of Joey lying broken and pale haunted him. He could still remember the light in the kid’s eyes when he talked about dancing—the passion, the joy, and the unshakable drive that had made Joey come alive.
And now?
Now, Joey was fighting for his life. Even if he survived this nightmare, his dreams might not. King’s body trembled with rage at the thought, his mind spiraling further into a dark place.
His boots thudded heavily against the floor as he strode toward Joey's room. Each step was a promise. He would find who did this. He would hunt them down. And when he did, there would be no mercy.
King pushed open the door, his sharp gaze sweeping the room before settling on Sloan, who stood with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression. “She’s ready to talk,” King announced. His voice was calm but carried a weight that made the others pause. Before anyone could move, he added firmly, “She just found out her brother’s dead, so tread lightly.”
Sloan’s eyebrow lifted. “Or what?” he asked, his tone as smooth as a blade drawn from its sheath.
King didn’t flinch. His eyes locked onto Sloan’s; his words deliberate. “You deal with me.” His voice dropped. “Her brother’s dead, her nephew’s fighting for his life, and even you aren’t that much of a dick.”
Sloan’s lips quirked into a smirk, and after a brief pause, he chuckled. “Good thing I like you, King.”
Behind them, Jared let out a snort. “What the fuck? If I’d said that, I’d be scraping my ass off the floor.”
“That’s because I don’t like you most of the time,” Sloan retorted without missing a beat.
Jared’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Meaning there are times that you do like me.” Jared grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “I knew it. I knew I was your favorite.”
“If favorite means I would kill you with a smile, you’re absolutely right,” Sloan growled as he walked out of the room.
Daniel, standing near the door, grinned and shook his head. “Looks like some things haven’t changed since I’ve been gone.”
“Same shit, different day,” Jake muttered as he moved past, his tone dry.
King didn’t take his eyes off Daniel. “What do you know about all this?”
Daniel’s expression darkened as he stepped closer. “I need her to fill in the blanks.” He rubbed his jaw, a muscle ticking as his thoughts raced. Then his eyes flicked back to King, his voice lowering. “This isn’t just about Joey or Amara’s family.”
King’s stomach twisted, sensing something sinister behind Daniel’s words. “Then what the hell is it about?”
Daniel sighed; his eyes swirled like clouds gathering before a storm. “Let’s just say some want their blood for immortality, strength, power, and control over things that should stay dead.”
King’s chest tightened as rage clawed at his insides. “We’re not letting that happen.”
King entered the waiting area with a guarded intensity, his eyes locked on Sloan as he approached Amara. She rose to meet Sloan, her posture tense but composed. Even though King knew Sloan would never harm her, the instinct to protect surged within him, unrelenting and fierce.
Sloan extended his hand. “I’m Sloan Murphy,” he introduced, his tone calm and measured.
Amara’s small, trembling hand slipped into his. “Amara,” she said softly, her voice low but carrying a quiet strength. She straightened her spine as she met Sloan’s gaze with resolve.
“I’m sorry about Joey. He’s a good kid. And I’m sorry about your brother, Lee.” Sloan’s voice softened as he stepped back to give her space.
“He is,” Amara nodded, her expression tightening. “And thank you.”
“We will find who’s responsible.” Sloan’s tone sharpened with resolve. “This is Jared, and that’s Daniel. You’ve already met Jake and King.”
Amara’s gaze flicked to each man, her eyes lingering on King before returning to Sloan. Just then, Slade entered, drawing everyone’s attention. King felt a sharp jolt of tension rise in the room, but Slade’s calm demeanor quickly diffused it.
“He’s still stable,” Slade said firmly, meeting Amara’s panicked expression. “There’s a nurse with him now. He won’t be left alone until I get back.”
“You’re a Warrior?” Amara’s brow furrowed in surprise.
“It’s his part-time gig,” Jared quipped, flashing a grin. “He’s a better doctor.”
Slade shot Jared a narrowed glare, but Amara’s lips twitched into a faint smile. It was fleeting, but to King, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His chest tightened as he soaked in the rare moment of light in her otherwise stormy expression.
Beside him, Daniel’s sharp eyes remained fixed on King.
“Don’t start with your weird ass analyzing,” King muttered, keeping his voice low.
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “Why analyze when I can feel it rolling off you like a tidal wave?”
King clenched his jaw, ignoring the heat creeping up his neck. He wouldn’t indulge Daniel’s teasing. Instead, his attention turned toward Amara. Everything about her tugged at something primal within him. It was strange and unlike anything he’d ever felt with another person.
“Where do I start?” Amara asked as she sat down, as if standing required too much effort.
“The beginning,” Sloan replied, folding his arms over his chest, his sharp eyes steady on her. “Because, honestly, I don’t think any of us have a clue what we’re up against.”
Slade leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. “When were you turned into a half-breed? Have you been sick since? Unable to keep blood down?” He asked bluntly, cutting straight to a question that had been obviously bothering him. After almost losing Jill and watching others fall into bloodlust, this was something King knew Slade couldn’t ignore.
Amara turned her gaze to him, her expression calm despite the tension swirling around them. “Six months, give or take a week or so. Sorry, but things were a bit of a blur for me,” she said quietly. “And no, I haven’t been sick, nor have I had any blood.”
King stiffened. His sharp gaze snapped to Slade, who rarely showed emotion. Now, his eyes widened, and his usual calm mask slipped.
“That’s not possible.” Slade shook his head, disbelief darkening his voice. “You’d be in full-blown bloodlust by now.”
“With ‘Golden Blood,’ nothing is impossible,” Daniel murmured, his swirling, ancient eyes fixed on Amara as if he could peel away her secrets with a glance.
“Golden Blood?” Sloan’s eyes narrowed, his confusion evident.
Slade took a slow breath as if his mind was shifting into full medical mode. “Rh-null blood is one of the rarest blood types in the world. It lacks all 61 antigens in the Rh system—one of the most complex blood groups. It was first identified in 1961. Fewer than fifty people have been reported to possess it worldwide.”
“Here he goes with the doc talk shit,” Jared mumbled, but Sloan glared at him so he shut up before Sloan could tell him to shut the fuck up.
Slade swept the room with his gaze, noting the weight of their attention. “Rh-null blood can be transfused to anyone with rare Rh blood types, but Rh-null individuals can only receive blood from other Rh-null donors. That makes finding compatible blood nearly impossible. Because of this, it’s often referred to as ‘Golden Blood.’ Its scarcity and importance in life-threatening situations make it invaluable to medical science.”
King’s eyes flicked to Amara, watching her closely. She listened with quiet understanding, her expression tightening as if each fact weighed her down further.
Slade continued, his sharp eyes never leaving her. “Blood banks specializing in rare blood types value Rh-null more than gold. People with this blood type are constantly sought out for donations to maintain even a minimal supply.”
Jared snorted, breaking the charged silence with a scoff. “I’m not a stupid man.” He raised his hands in exasperation. “But what the fuck does any of this have to do with Joey?”
Sloan sighed, rubbing his temple as if Jared had given him a headache. But even he looked to Slade for an answer.
Before Slade could speak, Daniel’s calm voice sliced through the tension. “That’s the medical explanation. Let me tell you what it means on our side of things.”
Just as Daniel began, Duncan walked in, his presence commanding immediate attention. He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over the gathered group before it landed on his son.
“Hey, Dad,” Daniel greeted casually.
Duncan’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he folded his arms across his chest. “You think you could’ve told your mother you were coming?”
King watched the brief interaction with interest. Amara, too, observed the reunion with a wistful expression. Her eyes reflected a deep sadness and a longing that King suddenly wanted to fill. Frowning, King looked away from her and back to Daniel. Now wasn’t the time to digest his sudden feelings for this woman. What the actual fuck was happening to him?
Jared broke the moment with a wave of his hand. “Alright, enough small talk. Can we get to the part that makes sense to the rest of us?” He pointed at Daniel. “Explain it like I’m five.”
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. His swirling gaze fixed on Jared before drifting to Amara. “Golden Blood is unique. It carries properties that can enhance or mutate someone’s abilities under the right or wrong circumstances. Think of it like a genetic key that unlocks doors most of us don’t even know exist. Someone with Joey or Amara’s blood could potentially stabilize the kind of hybrid transformations we’ve seen kill people such as half-breeds, which means, once again, in the wrong hands, someone could start an army of healthy half-breeds. It could give full-blood vampires unstoppable power, not to mention not needing blood to feed. But that isn’t something I’m positive about. Just because Amara hasn’t needed blood doesn’t mean a full-blood vampire who feeds from her once would be cured of needing blood to survive.”
King clenched his jaw as he looked over to see how Amara was handling all of this. Her fearful expression said everything he needed to know. He wasn’t handling it very well at all. Just the thought of someone feeding from her had him wanting to kill something.
“But that isn’t what concerns me,” Daniel said, cranking his neck back and forth.
“Of course, it’s not.” Jared sighed, shaking his head. “Okay, Daniel, lay it on us. Freak us the fuck out and tell us what we are really in for.”
“There is talk in the Realm.” Daniel looked toward Jake, who cursed long and loudly. “That Golden Blood would allow every demon to walk the earth.”
“Witches are already bringing demons out of the Realm; what’s the difference?” King said, looking at Jake and then back to Daniel. He was learning about the Demon Realm, but he hadn’t been there yet and wasn’t looking forward to going if he was being honest.
“Dead Walkers, Orthons, and Hamatulas, just to name a few, have never walked on earth. That’s the difference. Not even a witch can accomplish bringing those monsters to the surface, but ‘Golden Blood’ might.” Daniel looked at King, and then his swirling eyes went straight to Amara.
“Why now?” Sloan asked, his golden eyes narrowed.
Daniel’s expression turned grim as he shrugged slightly, his voice calm but cutting. “Demons, for all their power, aren’t exactly known for their brilliance,” he said, his tone matter of fact. “This isn’t their idea. Whoever is pulling the strings is someone or something far more dangerous. And this could have been in the works for a while. When you are dealing with psychopaths, as you well know, they are always finding new ways they think will work. This is one of them.”
King’s fists clenched as a low growl formed in his chest. “Then who the hell is behind this?” he demanded, his eyes dark with fury.
Daniel sighed, his gaze distant as if piecing together threads of a vast and shadowy web. “That part,” he admitted, “I don’t know...yet. But this much is certain. Joey and Amara are walking targets. Vampires, humans, demons—they’ll all be coming for anyone with Rh-null blood. The rarest blood in existence is suddenly worth more than gold. It’s the key to Realms...breaking every natural law that holds our world together.”
King frowned when Amara stood with a gasp. He was ready to defend her, but she was staring at Daniel wide-eyed. “What is it?”
“Her dream,” Daniel answered for her.
“That’s why you’re familiar.” Amara gasped again, her trembling hand going to her mouth. “You were in my dream.”
“I had a vision of your dream, Amara, which is why I’m here,” Daniel said as he approached her, reached out, and took her hand. “You can’t battle this on your own. Trust us.”
King’s fury burned brighter, his protective instincts flaring to dangerous levels. His jaw set with unbreakable determination. His eyes never left Amara, watching her fragile strength with a ferocity that promised retribution. He wasn’t surprised by this reaction. King had always been a man driven by loyalty, a trait as ingrained in him as breathing. He protected those he cared for without question or hesitation, and Joey was more than important to him. If Amara was important to Joey, then by extension, she had also earned King’s protection. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself, ignoring the deeper pull he felt every time his eyes landed on her.
No one would touch Joey or Amara—not demons, humans, or vampires. And if anyone was foolish enough to try, they would answer to him . His fury simmered, cold and lethal below the surface, promising retribution that would leave no room for mercy.
As if sensing his silent vow, Amara turned her eyes toward him. Something in her gaze made his chest tighten...a quiet strength wrapped in vulnerability, a fragile courage that refused to break even under the weight of her grief. She didn’t ask for help outright. She simply stood unyielding despite her shaking limbs, which made King’s protective instincts roar even louder.