Chapter 27
Boaz
Boaz rubbed his hands against his thighs as the truck sped down the highway. He was nervous, and he couldn’t shake the bad feeling sitting in his chest. Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it.
He wondered where Alexander was, and what was wrong with Blade.
Who the hell was Blade?
The vampire had left in such a hurry, looking concerned, and Boaz couldn’t help but think Blade was someone important to Alexander. Someone who would make him run at the first sign of trouble.
Fuck.
He didn’t want Alexander worrying about anyone else but him. Boaz shook his head as his chest tightened from the possessive feeling rising inside him.
Manlius hissed beside him, making Boaz turn. The sorcerer’s hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel, his body trembling.
“What the hell?”
“Are you alright?” Boaz asked.
Manlius nodded, biting his bottom lip. “You’re giving off very strong emotions right now. It’s hard for me not to feed from it. I’m trying, but it’s really difficult.”
“Oh,” Boaz said.
“Is everything okay?” Manlius asked, loosening his grip on the wheel. He glanced at Boaz, then looked away again.
“I’m fine,” Boaz said, taking a steady breath. “Did Brett tell you what the tests showed?” he asked, changing the subject.
Manlius let out a short laugh. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I just thought maybe talking would help you release some tension and make it easier on me.”
Boaz exhaled. “Fine. I’m worried about Alexander.”
“His Majesty?”
“Damn, I always forget he’s the king,” Boaz said.
“That’s because you two want to fuck each other,” Manlius said with a laugh.
Boaz coughed, heat rising up the back of his neck.
“Oh, it already happened,” Manlius added.
“Shut up.”
“When?” Manlius asked, glancing at him for a beat before turning back to the road. “And you’re possessive of him.”
“I’m not possessive of him,” Boaz mumbled.
“You can’t lie to me. I can feel what you feel, remember? And I’m picking up some very strong emotions right now.” Manlius turned his head slightly. “Something happened between the two of you.”
Boaz looked out the window and said nothing.
“I thought you hated him,” Manlius chuckled.
“Focus on the damn road,” Boaz said. “And tell me what Brett said.”
“Okay, fine, don’t tell me,” he said. “Brett didn’t say much. He just said we had to come and see for ourselves.”
“What could it possibly be?” Boaz asked.
Manlius shrugged, shifting in his seat as he focused on the road.
Boaz tried his best not to think about Alexander and whatever he was doing. Their relationship was still fairly new. He had no right to tell him what to do or who to be with. But that didn’t stop what he was feeling.
“Boaz,” Manlius said through clenched teeth.
“Fuck, sorry.” Boaz shifted in his seat.
“I told you to talk about it.”
“No,” he said firmly. His relationship with Alexander was private. He wasn’t going to go around telling people about it. “What happens, anyway, when you feel someone’s emotions?”
“Hmmm… it feels like taking your first hit of cocaine, especially when it’s someone like you,” Manlius said.
“Me? What am I like?”
“You are supernatural, and strong. Pure of heart. Your emotions are like ecstasy to me,” Manlius said. “And I cannot get high right now. I am driving.”
“Ugh, do not tell me that,” Boaz said.
“You asked,” Manlius chuckled.
They fell silent as Manlius focused on the road. About thirty minutes later, they turned off the highway and entered the city.
Boaz could not remember the last time he had been here. Hansel usually handled most of the deliveries while he stayed back at the pack. He stared out the window at the tall buildings and busy streets. It was a stark change from the forest he preferred.
“Why do you live in Claremore?” he asked, turning to Manlius.
Manlius sighed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel again. “City life is not for me. I used to like it when I was younger, but not anymore.”
Boaz glanced at the sorcerer, feeling like there was a story there, but he wasn’t one to pry. Manlius navigated the traffic and they stopped at a light, turned left, and came to a halt in front of a high wall with an iron-wrought gate.
“Brett lives here. I always thought it was a government building,” he said, looking at the coat of arms on the wall.
“It is, in a way,” Manlius said as the gate slowly opened.
“Wow,” Boaz said, leaning forward as the eighteenth-century-style building came into view. Manicured lawns and neatly trimmed trees filled the grounds. “This is beautiful.”
“Yeah… yeah,” Manlius said, unimpressed. He put the car in park and opened his door. “Let’s go.”
Boaz jumped out and followed the sorcerer to the door. “What’s your problem? This place is amazing. Is it a school or something?” he asked as he spotted a few children playing in the grounds.
“I don’t have a problem. I just hate coming here,” Manlius said, shoving the door open.
Boaz followed him inside, looking around, but he couldn’t see anything that would justify the hostility.
The section of the building they entered was clean and well kept.
Paintings hung on the walls, and benches were placed neatly along the corridor, with flowers in vases on every surface. The place felt serene, welcoming.
“It seems nice,” Boaz said.
“I never said it wasn’t nice. I said I hate it here,” Manlius replied as he came to a stop in front of a door. He knocked.
A few seconds passed with no answer.
“Brett?” he called.
“I’m coming, hold on a second,” Brett said from inside.
The door opened and a young man with blue hair stepped out. He looked over his shoulder, then sighed. “Don’t lose hope, Benjamin. Everyone is different,” Brett said softly.
So it was a school of sorts.
Benjamin nodded and walked down the hallway, leaving them alone.
“Manlius,” Brett said, turning his attention to the warlock.
“What did you want to show me?” Manlius asked.
“This way,” Brett said, closing the door behind him. He walked down the hallway. Boaz glanced at Manlius before following.
“Did you find something in Alexander’s blood? Is that why you wanted more?” Boaz asked.
“Yes,” Brett said.
“What did you find?” Manlius asked, falling into step beside him.
“You’ll see for yourself,” Brett said, coming to a stop at the end of the hallway.
He opened a door on his left and stepped inside. Manlius followed, and Boaz came after him, descending a set of wooden steps.
A déjà vu hit Boaz as he reached the basement, the memory of the monastery flashing through his mind. But instead of an iron coffin, there were three cages in the middle of the room.
Inside each cage were young witches.
Black veins rippled beneath their skin. They snarled and shook the bars, trying to break free.
“What the hell happened here?” Manlius asked, stepping closer. His presence seemed to agitate them further. They slammed their heads against the cages, white foam gathering at the corners of their mouths. They were behaving like mindless beasts, just like Alexander.
“Did Alexander’s blood do this?” Boaz asked, moving closer to one of the cages.
A hand shot through the bars, reaching for him, claws slicing through the air.
“Be careful,” Brett said. “They’re strong. One swipe of their talons and you’re dead.”
“How could this happen?” Manlius asked, sounding stunned.
“It was an accident. There was an explosion in the lab while I was testing the blood. Everything in there went airborne. They must have ingested some of it in the chaos. We contained it, but the damage was already done. I asked for more blood to confirm what happened and to try to find a cure, but I couldn’t find anything.
So I’ve been waiting to see if they can heal themselves like His Majesty did. ”
Boaz stared at the witches. They looked so young.
“Do you think they can heal themselves?” Boaz asked.
“I don’t know,” Brett said quietly. He didn’t sound hopeful. And from the way the witches were behaving, Boaz didn’t think they would either. Alexander was a born vampire, far stronger than most creatures Boaz had ever seen.
“Fuck,” Manlius muttered, pacing in front of the cages, running a hand through his hair. “Are you sure you contained it? There’s no one else out there who’s infected?”
“No. I’m running spells as we speak. We check every student every hour.”
“Good. We should put them to sleep so they don’t suffer,” Manlius said, finally focusing on the three in the cages.
“Yes, of course,” Brett said, moving closer to him.
Boaz watched as the two of them stepped into position and began to chant. The air in the room warmed and began to vibrate, leaving goosebumps along his skin.
Boaz held his breath as the young witches slumped to the ground one by one. The chanting slowly ebbed, until there was only silence.
They stared at the three bodies, the pain on their faces breaking Boaz’s heart.
This shouldn’t have happened. They should have been more careful.
“Do you have somewhere they can sleep comfortably?” Manlius asked.
“Yes,” Brett said. “The infirmary. The healers can watch over them there.”
He walked to the cages and unlocked them. Inside, he carefully lifted the first witch and handed her to Manlius, then the second one to Boaz. He picked up the third himself.
With their burdens, they made their way to the infirmary, which looked more like a small hospital to Boaz. Beds lined the walls, and high-tech medical equipment stood beside each one. The room was empty for now, but it was clearly built for constant use.
Maybe witches get hurt a lot, Boaz thought as he adjusted the weight in his arms.
“Let’s put them down on the beds in the far corner. No one will disturb them there,” Brett said.
They followed him. Carefully, they laid the witches down and covered them with light blankets.
Manlius stepped forward and ran his fingers over each witch’s forehead, chanting softly.
When he was done, he stepped back and stared down at them.
“I’m going to have to inform their families,” Brett said.
This is not going to go down well, especially after what Alexander did. Boaz closed his eyes for a second, his heart beating fast. He felt Manlius glance at him. He opened his eyes and tried his best to steady his emotions.
“You should do that,” Manlius said. “Boaz, let’s go.”
“They’ll want to have a meeting,” Brett added. “To talk about the king of vampires.”
Fuck, Boaz thought silently.
“I know,” Manlius said. He turned and walked out of the infirmary.
Boaz gave Brett a tired smile and followed him out.
When he stepped outside, Manlius was already in the truck waiting. Boaz got in, and they drove in silence for a while.
“We have to get rid of everything that has his blood,” Manlius said out of nowhere. “Try to contain this as much as we can.”
“Yes,” Boaz said, his chest tight. “Does this mean he’s still infected?”
“Yes,” Manlius said. “He’s a fucking ticking time bomb waiting to go off at any moment.”
“But he looks fine,” Boaz said, still trying to process everything. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
“He’s not,” Manlius said, glancing at him. “I wanted him to be fine too. But…”
He isn’t. Boaz’s nails dug into his thighs.
“Are you okay?” Manlius asked after a while.
Boaz shook his head. He was finally happy. He had finally found someone he really liked, someone he thought he might be falling in love with.
Manlius reached out and placed his hand over Boaz’s. “Don’t think the worst. He hasn’t shown any signs of becoming dangerous.”
“You just said he was a ticking time bomb a minute ago,” Boaz said.
Manlius opened his mouth, then shut it again.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Boaz asked quietly.
“Yes,” Manlius said, shifting in his seat. “If the kids weren’t infected, maybe the families would be understanding. And he could promise to stay in the mountains and be careful, but…”
“They’re not going to let him live. Not again,” Boaz finished for him.
“I’m sorry,” Manlius said.
“Why?” Boaz said, his fingernails digging into his thighs. “Him and I just started seeing each other. It’s not like we’re in love or anything.”
Manlius frowned but said nothing.
They drove in silence after that, Boaz doing his best to shut his mind off. He should have been thinking about the young witches, about what to do next, but all he could think about was Alexander. The idea of not seeing him again, or of him being sick, was tearing him apart.
Fuck. He needed to see him now.
Boaz reached for his phone in his pocket, but Alexander didn’t have one. He would have to wait until Alexander came to him.
“Where are we going?” Boaz asked when Manlius didn’t turn toward his home, even as they drove through Claremore.
“We have to get rid of any trace of his blood, just in case someone else comes into contact with it. We can’t risk anyone else being infected.”
They arrived at the monastery and hurried inside. Manlius headed straight for the cellar without waiting to speak to anyone in charge. Boaz shook his head as he followed.
“Maybe we should ask for permission before we go rummaging around,” Boaz said as they descended the stairs.
“We don’t have time for that,” Manlius said impatiently. “Help me find the damn stake.”
He opened the coffin and looked inside. When he was satisfied it wasn’t there, he scanned the cellar again.
Boaz stared at the warlock, then shook his head and started searching.
“I don’t see it,” Boaz said. “It should be here, right?”
Manlius looked around without answering.
“Maybe Lucas disposed of it.”
“You think so?” Manlius asked, glancing up the stairs with a worried look.
“He’s fine. Hansel spoke to him the day after Alexander showed up in my pack,” Boaz said. “If he was infected, he would’ve noticed.”
Manlius nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t fucking know how we’re going to handle this.”
Boaz didn’t know either.
“We should speak to Alexander and—”
“Speak to Alexander about what?” Alexander asked as he descended the stairs.
Boaz held his breath at the sight of him, his heart slamming against his ribs.
Fuck.
He quickly looked away, but his gaze snapped back just as fast to the figure behind Alexander.
Who the hell is that?