Chapter 23
I’m outside on my patio when I hear the click of my door shut, signalling Sterling’s return. I suck in a slow, quiet breath between my teeth, rubbing the edge of my thumb against my forehead as I pinch my cigarette between my pointer and middle finger.
“It’s late,” I call out, sensing him lingering at the edge of the open sliding glass door.
My eyes flick over to the patio to my left, making sure there’s no movement from Sterling’s old room.
I’m assuming the girl is asleep by now, no doubt worn out from the night’s rather clamorous activities.
And seeing as how Sterling is here. And not there .
. . It’s a pretty safe bet. Even still, I don’t want her eavesdropping.
“I know.” Sterling’s voice is calm, soft. Tender. I fidget in my seat as I feel the caress in his words. He’s always been unnervingly good at that, touching me without touching me.
All of us have certain abilities, as vampires.
Aamon is incredibly strong—even for one of our kind—despite his more slender, albeit muscular form.
Quinn, I swear, has some siren in him, as well as bloodsucker.
If that’s even possible. That boy could smooth talk his way out of each and every one of the seven circles of hell without breaking a sweat.
I . . . well, I can’t say there’s anything special about my abilities.
Unless shutting down emotionally and fucking up shit counts as a skill.
Andras sure likes to think it is, seeing as how he loves to take advantage of my heartlessness.
But Sterling—he has this way about him.
It’s different from Quinn. It’s not seduction or hypnosis.
It’s just . . . he senses things. We all do, another perk of the job description.
But there’s more to it with him. It’s almost like he’s not fully corporeal.
Like he can exist within a realm between here and the afterlife.
He can project his consciousness, make it feel like he’s all around you, make it feel like he’s within you.
Make it feel like there’s nothing else in the fucking world but you and all of him.
“Stop,” I command through gritted teeth. Not because I don’t want it. But because I need to stay focused. He pulls back instantly, slinking out of the shadows of the wafting drapes and into my line of sight—complete with a smirk nestled against those enticing, full lips.
“Is something wrong?” He leans against the edge of the door, arms folded over his chest. A laugh practically tickling his lips.
“You know damn well something is wrong, Sterling.” I double down on my restraint, shutting out the desire I feel blooming inside me. “The whole fucking clubhouse could have heard you two. You’re breaking Aamon’s orders.”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Really, Zeke? I've never considered you a stickler for the rules.”
“I’m not,” I start to argue, raising my voice. But I swallow the words, closing my eyes. “This is different, and you know it.”
“So you feel it, too?”
Suddenly I have Sterling’s attention. He’s standing straighter, leaning in. His eyes watch my every move, searching and sensing for any hint that I’m siding with him on this.
“No,” I respond bitterly. Because he is wrong.
She is nothing. Just a girl stuck on the wrong side of town.
It doesn't matter that she’s the daughter of the High Quarter Alpha—doesn’t matter that she’s seemingly captured the attention of multiple members of the Blood Order in a matter of twenty-four hours within the ungoverned district.
Doesn’t matter that she’s stirring something akin to jealousy within me for the first time since Sterling and I became whatever the fuck we are.
Sterling has had his fair share of partners over the years.
Some lasting no longer than the time it takes him to come inside them, others hanging around for a handful of weeks or months.
And not one has ever bothered me. We have an understanding, he and I.
We have what we have here, and we have whatever the fuck we want elsewhere.
Because I know I cannot provide him with what he needs. There is no relationship side to me. I don’t do feelings. I don’t date. I’m not a partner. And no matter how much I care for Sterling, I would never subject him to a lifetime trapped by my side when I know he needs more.
And that has always worked for us. Until she walked in. Until I could smell her on him when he came back to my room. Until he disobeyed direct orders from our leader. For her.
“No,” I repeat again, shaking my head. “I don’t care about her.
” I make myself stop before I can finish the sentiment.
But I do care about you. “You’re being reckless,” I say instead, pulling the dwindling cigarette to my lips and sucking deeply.
“You need to be more careful, or Aamon is going to retaliate.”
Sterling stalks towards me, leaning over the small, rickety table where I sit.
He pulls the remaining bit of cigarette out of my hand, taking the last drag before snuffing it out in the ash tray.
He blows the smoke down towards me, bringing his face closer to mine.
Too close to not stir that desire I buried mere moments ago.
“Let him,” he whispers, a sly grin on his face. “I don’t give a fuck what Aamon does to me. So long as it means I can have her.”
I’m moving before I can process the rage that’s suddenly overtaking me, pushing him back across the patio with a hand wrapped around his throat. His back hits the frame of the sliding glass door with a sickening thud. A resounding crack spiders through the glass.
He looks up at me through long, dark lashes, contrasting the silvery glow of his piercing eyes. His full attention is on me, not because he’s scared, but because he’s slipping into his role. Like the obedient fucking asshole he is. My breath goes ragged as I tighten the grip at his throat.
“Take it back,” I command. “Tell me you’re just fucking around and that you don’t really mean it.” It’s the only second chance I will give him. The one warning he gets to change his course before I tear into him for being such a masochistic bastard.
Because I know how ferocious the Blood Order can be and it’s not the playground he’s gotten used to. I’ll be damned if I see him end up like Tyge or any one of the other shitbags that the Order has chewed up and spat out for their disobedience.
He swallows, holding my gaze before slowly shaking his head.
His neck muscles constrict beneath my fingers at the movement, and my whole body tenses at the feel of resistance.
“I can’t, Zeke.” He fixes me with a sad smile, sorrow in his eyes for his defiance.
He’s never liked disobeying me, has never truly been able to bring himself to do so.
Not where it mattered. But it seems things have changed.
“She’s too important. Not just for me, but for all of us.
Quinn senses is, same as me. And I know Aamon can feel it too.
I just want us all to be happy, to have what we desire. To make it work. Together.”
“You’re wrong,” I growl, my grip tightening until I’m sure his vision is going fuzzy. I’m so close to him now. All that he is invades my senses. Whatever remaining shred of control I was clinging to dissipates when his hands wrap around me and find the small of my back.
“Just give her a chance,” he urges, his voice raw and choked from my hold.
“She’s just a girl, Sterling.” I relax my grip, just the smallest fraction.
“A crush. Nothing more.” He sours at my words, his features twining in something akin to disgust or pain.
But I don't care. He needs to get it through his fucking head how much of an idiot he’s being.
“Don’t throw away what we have here just because you can't keep it in your pants.”
“Is that what this is?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Jealousy?”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth, but it comes out false, weak.
He huffs out a breath of air, the noise sounding hollow since I’m still cutting off his airway.
“After all this time, all the different partners we’ve taken over the years?
She's not just some fling, Zeke. Nor just some fluke in our precarious brotherhood. She could be something that binds us even closer. Not just you and I but all of us. She could heal us just as much as we are healing her.”
He drops a hand from my waist, raising it between us and wrapping his fingers around my wrist that still holds his throat. “Think about it. Why now? Why her?”
The touch is so slight, his voice so convincing, it makes me hesitate.
Only for a moment, I consider what he’s saying.
But the feral look in Aamon’s eyes the night he gave his order to stay away from her flashes through my mind, as well as visions of what he might do if he finds out about Sterling’s defiance.
I shake my head, doubling down on my indifference. “I don’t know what you think you sense in her, but you’re wrong, Sterling. She is nothing to me—sure as fuck means nothing to Aamon. You need to squash these delusions about her being a part of us.”
Sterling watches me, defeat heavy in his eyes. “If you’d just—”
“I said no.” My voice is strong, final. A small part of me breaks when Sterling flinches, and yet another side only builds with desire.
I drop my hand, Stealing’s body slumping slightly against the glass door.
“I don’t know what's gotten into you, Sterling. But you seem to have forgotten who you are.” I take a step back, working at the buckle of my jeans. “Or rather, whose you are.”
Sterling lifts his gaze to mine, head cocked as he tries to understand my meaning. But it only takes a second for him to regain his bearings, and his eyes go wide. Without hesitation, without any argument, he sinks to his knees.