Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
A mara hummed softly as she scrubbed the floors, the rhythmic swish of the mop gliding over the floor calming her. Cleaning was therapeutic. A way to keep her hands busy, to settle the thoughts that sometimes raced too fast in her mind.
King’s deep voice carried from the living room every few minutes, followed by Joey’s excited yells as they played their video game. Amara grinned, shaking her head. King was completely hooked, and it cracked her up. The man who was a warrior, a deadly fighter, had turned into a full-blown gaming addict.
On the other hand, she couldn’t play with King at the same time, not after the first disaster of an attempt. The faceless men in the game had the audacity to disrespect her, and King immediately started swearing at the screen, threatening their lives and vowing to hunt them down. She was used to it, but King was not. Yeah, so now he only played with Joey.
It had been a few days since the funeral, and things were slowly returning to a new normal. Joey was beyond excited to move in with King, already planning what he wanted to do with his new room. Amara only had a few months left on her apartment lease, but they decided that next weekend, they’d start moving her things. She and King had also talked to Joey about what he wanted to do with his house. He had told them that he didn’t want to live there. Too many memories. So, they decided to sell and keep what was left over for Joey’s future.
Last night, she and King stayed up late in bed, ordering supplies for the darkroom, which he insisted she had. He had already called the crew who worked with the Warriors to set up a consultation. That had led to their first real fight.
King wanted to pay for everything, but Amara flat-out refused. If he was paying for it all, then it wasn’t happening. He hadn’t taken that well, growling in frustration and being hardheaded. They had finally compromised, agreeing to split the cost, but she knew him too well. He was going to try to change her mind again. She had to stay on guard.
A deep voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Hey, what are you doing?”
Amara turned to see King standing in the doorway, frowning.
“Just cleaning.” She smiled as she carried the mop bucket toward the back door. Before she could reach it, King snatched it from her hands.
“King, I can empty the bucket.” She frowned, tossing a hand on her hip.
“Not while I’m here, you can’t.” His tone left no room for argument. He disappeared outside, dumping it himself, then reappeared with the empty bucket seconds later.
Her heart softened. The small things he did for her always caught her off guard.
“Why don’t you come in and hang with us?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He nuzzled her neck, his breath warm against her skin.
Amara melted just a little but still shook her head. “Because I’m not done cleaning.” She leaned her head to the side, letting him have better access because, let’s be honest, she was weak for this man.
King lifted his head, glancing around with an arched brow. “This place has never been this spotless, Amara.”
“Hey, I like to clean,” she said defensively, then frowned when he kept staring at her like she had grown another head.
“Seriously?” His tone was skeptical.
“Told you I was weird.” She teased with a shrug. “Now go on, and let me finish.”
King growled under his breath as he walked to the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and a soda, set them on the counter, and turned back to her.
“Listen, I was thinking about the darkroom.” He said, looking at her.
Amara immediately narrowed her eyes. “If this is about you paying for it, we will fight again.” She warned him.
King tilted his head like he was considering something. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She blinked. That was not the response she had expected. “You like fighting with me?”
A slow smirk spread across his lips. “I like the making-up.”
Amara rolled her eyes, throwing a dish towel at him, but King caught it with a chuckle.
“But no, that’s not it…this time.”
“Then what is it?” She said, then backtracked. “What do you mean this time?”
“How about using one of the bedrooms upstairs for your darkroom?” His gaze held hers, watching for her reaction.
Amara considered it, then shrugged. “I mean, that’s up to you. It would work, but it’s your?—”
King’s expression darkened instantly. “If you say ‘your house,’ I’m going to be pissed.”
“Sorry, habit.” She bit her lip to hold back a smile. “The smaller bedroom should be fine.”
King shook his head. “No, not the smaller one. Our bedroom.”
That made her pause. “What?”
“I’ll have them quote us on turning the basement into our bedroom with a small space for my workout room. That way, we can have more privacy, and I don’t have to keep taking you downstairs whenever I want to have my way with you.” King wiggled his eyebrows.
“I love that,” she admitted, feeling relieved. She had been uncomfortable being intimate upstairs with Joey right down the hall. This way, Joey could have his privacy, and they could have theirs.
“Good.” King nodded, pleased. Then his expression turned serious. “I also talked to Sloan. I’m going back to my rounds tomorrow, but I’m switching to the day shift. That way, someone will always be here, or you guys can go to the compound while I work.”
Amara sighed, crossing her arms. She hated losing her freedom but knew this was temporary, at least, she hoped it was, but it still sucked. This house was locked down like Fort Knox. He had installed so much security that even a deer couldn’t cross the yard without setting off an alert on his phone.
King cupped her face gently. “Hey. This isn’t forever. Daniel has some leads now. It’s only a matter of time.”
Amara exhaled, nodding. “I know. I get it. But it still sucks.”
King studied her for a moment, then followed her gaze as she looked toward her camera.
“Do you think we can go outside after you and Joey are finished so I can take some pictures?” she asked.
“Sure,” King said immediately, picking up the soda. He was always so quick to give her what she needed. “Let me give this to Joey and let him know.”
“We don’t have to do it now, King.” She protested.
But he was already leaving the kitchen. “We’ll do it now. I want to see you work.”
Amara shook her head, but warmth bloomed in her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she had picked up her camera just for the joy of it.
When King returned, he carried her jacket and held it out for her. “Here, it’s still cold outside.”
“Thanks,” She slipped her arms into it, smiling at him. “You really are a gentleman, aren’t you?”
“Honey, I’m far from a gentleman.” He replied with a wink.
Heat flushed through Amara’s body, and all it took was a damn wink. King had barely done anything, just that smug, knowing look, yet her pulse still skipped.
Needing to clear her head, she stepped outside, inhaling a deep breath of the crisp air. The coolness helped, but only slightly. Her thoughts were still tangled up in him.
King had told her he owned five acres of land, most of it dense woods, and now, standing here, she took it all in with fresh eyes. The photographer in her stirred to life, and everything else faded into the background.
Her gaze flicked upward, catching a flash of red against the bare branches. A cardinal.
Lifting her camera, she adjusted the focus, zooming in before clicking the shutter. The satisfying snap echoed in the quiet, grounding her.
Before long, she was lost in her own little world. Every stress, every lingering thought drifted away as she captured the delicate details of the landscape. The way the wind rustled the leaves and the contrast of dark bark against the pale winter sky was so peaceful. Then, movement caught her eye.
Glancing toward King, she found him standing a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his sharp gaze scanning the area. That serious expression, the way his jaw tightened, his broad shoulders tense, suggested he was always prepared for something, always watching, always protecting.
Her fingers moved on instinct. She lifted her camera again, adjusting the zoom, this time framing him.
Through the lens, she studied his strong profile, defined jaw, and the slight furrow in his brow. He was all rugged strength, power, and untamed masculinity. And he was so damn handsome it made her knees weak. It was cliché as hell…but entirely true.
At the sound of the click, his attention immediately focused on her. “Are you taking a picture of me?”
“Maybe,” She grinned, looking down at the picture she had just taken on the small display. “You want to see what I’ve gotten so far? You’ve got a lot of wildlife in your backyard.” She had wanted to go deeper into the woods, but they hadn’t gotten that far yet.
She walked to where King stood and angled her camera so he could see the pictures until she finally stopped on his photo. “You are very talented,” King said, sounding impressed.
“Well, I did have some handsome subjects.” Amara grinned, watching an arrogant smile spread across his face.
“I am very photogenic.” He angled his face as if posing for another picture.
“I was talking about the squirrel.” Amara teased with a laugh, then squealed when he grabbed her.
“Think you’re funny, huh?” King said just as his phone alarm went off. All play and laughter stopped as he pulled out his phone. “Get in the house. Now.”
Something was wrong. Amara could feel it in King's stiffening and sharp gaze, which cut to his phone, alarm flashing. Usually, it was nothing, just a deer crossing the yard or one of the Warriors pulling up the drive. But not this time.
The air around them thickened, charged with something dark and lethal.
“What is it?” she asked, frowning, but before he could answer, he moved fast, his grip firm as he started to pick her up to carry her away.
A single, sharp crack split the silence. Her blood turned to ice. She knew that sound—a long-range rifle.
Before she could react, King jerked violently. The force of it knocked her off balance, his weight slamming into her as they crashed to the ground.
“King!” The scream tore from her throat as she scrambled beneath him, desperate, terrified. A thick, dark stream of blood pooled beneath him, staining the earth too fast, too much. His body twitched against hers, and she felt his breath uneven and weak.
“Run,” he ordered, voice low but still commanding.
Amara ignored his order as she frantically searched for the threat but saw nothing. “Can you get up? I’ve got to get you in the house.”
“Was that a gunshot?” Joey opened the back door, stopping when he saw King on the ground with blood pooling around him. “Oh, fuck!”
“Help me get him inside.” Amara was trying to pick King up, but he was too heavy.
“Stop!” King cried out in anger. “Call Sloan and hide.”
“No, we have got to get you inside.” Amara still struggled, her eyes still searching. She didn’t know how far away a long-range rifle could fire, but she knew they didn’t have much time.
King’s arm shot up, pulling her down to him. “Listen to me, Goddammit!” His voice was harsh but weaker, and his hand let her go as his arm flopped on the ground, lifeless. “The bullet is silver. There is nothing you can do for me, Amara. Get Joey and you the fuck out of here. I love you, Amara, and I’m....sorry.” The defeat in his eyes scared her more than any enemy ever could. He was saying goodbye to her, well fuck that.
“No! No! No! No! You’re going to be fine. I just have to get you inside. Joey call Slade.” When Joey didn’t move, she saw tears rolling down his face as he stared at King. “Joey!” A sob escaped her throat as the reality of it hit her hard.
“Silver is deadly to a vampire.” Joey shook his head, his eyes meeting hers. “There is nothing we can do.”
Rage hit Amara like a freight train as she looked over her shoulder. “Bullshit!” she hissed, refusing to accept this reality. There was always something she could do. This was not their end. This was not King’s end. She would not be responsible for someone else’s, especially when it was the man she loved.
Her gaze dropped to King’s belt, to the knife he always carried. Without thinking, she grabbed it, yanking it free. The blade flashed in the dim light as she dragged it across her skin, barely feeling the burn as blood welled up.
“Lift his head.” She ordered Joey.
“Holy shit! You’re blood.” Joey said, hope filling his voice. Joey obeyed, lifting King’s head, and she shoved her bleeding arm against his lips.
"King!" she hissed, pressing harder. "Take my blood."
He didn’t move. Didn’t respond. Genuine fear crept into her bones, but she pushed it back.
“Is this going to work?” Joey’s voice trembled.
Amara gritted her teeth. “It has to.”
King was dying. She could feel it. No! He wasn’t allowed to die.
“Dammit, King,” she growled, shoving her arm harder against his mouth. “For once in your life, listen to me and take my fucking blood. Somebody has to save me, and it better be you.”
A shudder ran through his body. His lips parted. And then, finally, she felt it—the slow, weak pull as he drank. Relief crashed over her so hard she nearly collapsed, but there was no time for that. She could hear footsteps and voices coming closer.
“Yeah, I’m sure I got him. Saw it through the scope.” A man’s voice reached them.
“Get out of here and hide. Call Slade now!” Amara ordered, still watching King as he more strongly took the blood from her arm.
“I’m not leaving you, Amara.” Joey was shaking his head, watching the woods.
“Joey, they want me alive.” Amara hissed, her eyes narrowing. “They don’t know about your blood and will kill you. They have already tried. You are the only one who can tell the Warriors what happened.”
“Don’t you fucking die, Amara,” Joey said before he rushed back into the house with a sob.
She carefully pulled her arm away from King’s mouth, heart pounding as she whispered, “I love you, King. You better fucking live. Do you hear me? Fight.”
His lashes fluttered. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was trying to say. Tears blurred her vision as she wiped the blood from his mouth. She didn’t want them to know she had given him her blood. She wanted them to think he was dead. She grabbed the knife and forced herself to stand.
She could have run and hidden like King had ordered her to, but she knew if she left him here, they might realize he wasn’t dead. She would not let that happen.
She took a slow step forward, her own blood dripping to the dirt, her grip tightening around the hilt of the knife as she slid it under her coat.
The first man stepped through the trees, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes filled with cold amusement. “Well, look at that,” he sneered, looking at King’s body. “Told you I don’t miss.”
She would sacrifice herself to save King and pray that her blood would be enough for the man she loved. She stood silent, the knife slipped into the waistband of her jeans with her coat covering it. Something she had learned from King. She wouldn’t use the weapon now, but as soon as they were away from King and Joey, all bets were off.
“You’ve been nothing but trouble,” A man said as he grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him. “Come on, blood bitch. I want to get paid.”
“I told you that vampire wasn’t nothing.” The man with the gun laughed, shaking his head. “Warrior, my ass.”
Amara wanted to spit in the man’s face but didn’t. She needed them far away from King. Instead, she tilted her head to look back at King, who was staring straight at her, unmoving. His eyes were black as midnight. He was still alive...for now.