Chapter 14 #2
She didn’t speak. Just tossed him the blade with a practiced ease.
He caught it and stepped up to Mason. In a single clean swipe, he separated the vampire’s head from his neck, ending his suffering.
He took a couple of steps closer to where Bert was struggling with his clanmate.
Several tables and chairs had been overturned and broken in their fight.
Blood was smeared over their faces and fangs were bared.
Vicious snarled were accompanied by slick, wet sounds.
Again and again, they inflicted wounds, bled, and healed.
They were growing weaker but still had plenty of strength to keep going.
“You never should have come here, Bert,” Rafe coldly growled.
Lunging forward, Rafe plunged the blade into Bert’s chest, cutting clean through his heart.
Bert gasped, his eyes going wide in shock.
Before he could try to move against his attacker, Rafe jerked the blade free and sliced through his neck.
The head spun like a top for a second, then hit the floor with a sickening thud.
The other vampire stumbled backward, tripping over a chair and landing on his ass. He stared up at Rafe, openmouthed, sucking in several noisy breaths.
Rafe stood over him, the tip of the sword just an inch from the vampire’s nose.
“This is my domain. I am God here. Do you understand?” Rafe said with a cold finality.
The vampire nodded a couple of times, his dark eyes locked on the sword.
“They are mine to protect. Do you have a problem with that?”
“N-no,” the vampire breathed.
“Get out of here and spread the word. Don’t cross the Variks.”
The surviving member of the Bert Clan scrambled to his feet and ran from the club, still covered in the blood of his former clan leader.
Rafe looked at the mess created by the two dead vampires.
His lips curled at the waste. The wasted night where people and vampires could have lost themselves to liquor, music, and entertaining company.
Wasted time he could have spent with Philippe.
Wasted time Gideon could have spent lost in dance rather than being terrified for his life.
Disgusted with the scene in front of him, Rafe turned and stalked over to Lola, handing her back her blade.
“You could have at least cleaned it first,” she muttered, earning a dark look from Rafe before she graced him with a cheeky grin. Yes, of course Lola enjoyed the display of violence. That was her passion, and too often he let her put him in that headspace.
Ignoring her, Rafe stepped around her and Ryder to draw close to Gideon. He had both hands clutching his hair and his eyes clenched shut.
“Gideon,” Rafe started gently. “I need you to look at me. You’re safe now.”
Gideon slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head to stare at Rafe. His face was too pale, and he was still trembling.
“Rafe?”
“They’re gone. Did they hurt you?”
Gideon shook his head.
“Touch you?”
“He…he grabbed my arm, but Ryder was there. He stepped in. Saved me,” Gideon said softly. His large eyes darted over Rafe’s shoulder for a second before turning to his face. “Lola and Ryder kept me safe until you could get here.”
Rafe lifted one hand to touch Gideon’s cheek but stopped when he saw that it was smeared with blood.
He started to pull it away when Gideon surprised him by grabbing his hand in both of his and pressed it against his jaw.
A soft sigh left Rafe, and he relaxed a little.
“You’re safe. We’ll always keep you safe. ”
“I’m so sorry,” Gideon murmured.
“Not your fault.” Ryder surprised them all by speaking. Ryder didn’t talk. Never said more than absolutely necessary. And from Rafe’s experience, very few words were necessary.
“He’s right,” Rafe said with a smile. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Gideon nodded, but he didn’t look as if he fully believed it.
“Would you let Ryder take you home?”
Gideon nodded again. His taut shoulders relaxed some and the shaking eased. The thought of being in his safe place helped pull him from the fears plaguing him.
“Do you need to feed?”
Gideon shook his head a little too quickly and Rafe frowned. He wasn’t going to force Gideon. It wasn’t what he needed right now.
Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to Gideon’s soft blond hair before stepping away. Ryder immediately drew close and helped Gideon get to his feet. He ushered the smaller vampire out of the club like a mother hen tucking a chick under her wing.
Only when they were gone did he turn his attention to Lola, who was lounging against the bar. She already had two glasses of whiskey poured and waiting for them. With his back to the two corpses mucking up his floor, Rafe leaned on the bar and picked up one of the drinks.
“Do you think he’ll return?” Lola inquired after he’d tossed back half the whiskey without tasting it.
“No.”
“Should I have—”
“No, you handled it fine,” Rafe snapped.
“Then why the hell are you so pissy?”
Rafe glared over at Lola and she gave her best “Don’t fuck with me” look. This was why he adored her. She put up with all his moods and never flinched. Never gave him a goddamn inch.
And she’d put up with a lot of shit over the years.
There had been countless disappearances on his part to deal with his mother.
Then the nights when he was mentally fighting through the aftermath of his mother’s episodes.
She’d been there to steer him through so many acts of stupidity on his part when he couldn’t look himself in the mirror.
“Why the hell are you even still here?” Rafe grumbled.
Lola gave a deep, throaty laugh that drew his eyes to her.
She leaned against the bar and tilted her head up toward the ceiling, a broad smile pulling her deep red lips apart.
Her skin was a warm, dusky brown even after decades of hiding from the sun, and her eyes were a dark, rich brown.
He thought she’d mentioned growing up somewhere in the Middle East one night when they were drunk of blood, sex, and alcohol, but those human years were so very far away now.
“You mean other than the fact that you pay well?” She turned her head and stared at him. “You’re fun, Rafe. Even when you’re at your most self-destructive. Even when the world is burning around us. You’ll always be more fun than anyone I’ll ever meet.”
Rafe’s fingers tightened around his glass. “Tonight was fun?”
“In regards to Gideon, no. But you turning them on each other? Yes. Knowing that the vamps in town will fear you? Yes. Knowing that Gideon has just a little more protection? That we all do? Yeah, that was fun.”
“I doubt this is the kind of impression Marcus wanted the Variks making in this town.”
“Something was going to happen eventually,” Lola said. “And after talking to Edgar, we all know everyone is watching for it. This was a good start.” Her smirk spread as she repeated, “ ‘Don’t cross the Variks.’ It’s a very good start.”
Rafe’s eyes returned to his nearly empty glass.
He didn’t know if it was a good idea if the others feared his family.
If they saw the Variks as a threat. He knew his brothers didn’t want power or political influence.
They just wanted to live their lives in peace.
But their kind was determined to make sure that was an impossibility.
“Go home, Rafe. I’ve got this mess,” Lola instructed. Rafe looked over at his companion to find that her smile had softened a little. “You’ve been dealing with this Arsenault shit for over a week now. Rest. Hunt. Go through your phone and find someone to fuck.”
Despite his general love of arguing with Lola, Rafe tamped it down this time. He finished the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the bar with a heavy thud before pushing away.
“Call me if there are any more problems. I’m not planning to leave town again anytime soon.”
“Got it.”
Rafe walked out of Blush feeling an ache deep in his bones, as if the weight of all his one hundred and seventy-six years was pressing on him.
He wanted to keep Gideon safe. He wanted to keep Lola and Ryder safe.
But it was more than that. He wanted to keep Philippe and his clan safe as well.
Philippe was trying to save vampires who had been abandoned and tortured by their makers, wanted to offer them a safe haven and a family to call their own.
How the fuck was he supposed to do all that?
He was no one. Just some nightclub owner.
Fuck, he and his brothers were good at finding plenty of trouble on their own.
How the hell was he supposed to keep anyone else safe, protect anyone, when he was so damn good at making a mess of things on his own?
He certainly hadn’t been able to keep his mother alive and safe.
He didn’t remember driving to the penthouse, and it was only when he stepped into the elevator that he thought to pull out his phone.
There was a worried text from Bel that he quickly replied to, reassuring him that everything was in hand and he was fine.
He didn’t feel fine, but it didn’t matter. Sleep would help.
But sleep dropped to the back of his mind when he saw a new text from Philippe asking if he needed any help.
Everyone is safe and sound, Rafe replied to Philippe.
To his shock, his phone started vibrating in his hand a few seconds later. He looked down to find that Philippe was calling him rather than texting.
“You don’t believe me?” Rafe asked with a weary grin in his voice.
“Oh, I believe that all your people are safe and sound, but I’m calling to find out if you are okay.”
“I’m good as well,” Rafe said with a sigh as he leaned heavily against the wall of the elevator, resting on his heels. His words were followed by the chime of the elevator. He pushed to his feet and started forward as the doors slid open.
“Was that the elevator? Are you home again?”
“I am.”
“Would you be up for a personal inspection of your well-being? My mind will only be satisfied when it sees your fitness firsthand.”
Rafe stopped in the middle of the hall, a smile tugging unexpectedly at the corner of his lips. “It sounds as if this may be a very thorough examination.”
“Very thorough, yes. I also fear that it could take quite a while. More than one session of examination.”
Rafe fought the chuckle that was rising. Philippe’s voice sounded so damn serious. His heart was pounding with the promise of seeing Philippe again, of feeling his wonderful hands sliding over his body.
“It’s starting to get a bit late. It sounds like such examinations could last until dawn.”
There was a long pause, and Rafe nearly checked to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped when Philippe finally spoke.
“Would you be opposed to me being trapped with you during the day?”
His very use of the word “trapped” was laughable. Locked away with Philippe Arsenault for hours on end, no one intruding, a break from the worries that were plaguing them both, sounded like a dream.
“Get over here now,” Rafe commanded in a rough voice. He needed Philippe, and for just a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of believing that Philippe needed him as well.