9. Zachariah

CHAPTER 9

Zachariah

" I need you to come with me," I say by way of greeting when I find Talia laughing with the girls in the informal dining hall in the residence.

It doesn't go unnoticed that they fall silent the minute I walk into the room, every single one of them looking at me with a mixture of disappointment and anger.

Jesus, I know I have to make amends with Talia, probably every day for the rest of my existence, but now it looks like I have a whole gaggle of females to apologize to.

"Where?" Talia asks, but she pushes away from the table and rises as if the destination doesn't matter, which gives me a little hope.

"The war room," I explain. "Alek has called a meeting."

Her eyebrows raise as she glances down at Lyric. "I don't have clearance for that," she says, looking back at me.

"I do," I say without a hint of hesitance in my tone. "And I need you there."

Talia looks at me, interest shaping her features as she dips her head.

The rest of the girls smile at her in a mischievous way, Every single one of the mates at the table, minus Annika, knows how monumental it is to be let inside the war room. It's reserved for assassins and hunters alone, with the exception of their mates. And while Talia might not officially be mine, she is in every way that matters.

Talia leads the way out of the dining room before waiting for me to show her where the war room is located. She follows me through the residence, weaving in and out of hallways quietly.

"What were you all talking about?" I ask when I can't hold it in a second longer.

"Mates," she answers simply as we continue walking.

"Anything specific about mates or just mates in general?"

"A little of both," she says, so aloof, so casual. "Annika is very interested in the lore," she continues. "Of course, all she's seen is happy pairings, and it's natural to be fascinated by our situation."

The knife slips into my heart another inch, but it's no more than I deserve.

I pause outside the entryway to the war room, not yet offering my hand to the biometric scanner. "Talia," I start, searching for the right words to make her understand?—

"Our king is waiting for us," she says before I can continue, her eyes flicking to the very intimidating door before coming back to me. "I appreciate you including me on this. It shows that you understand how important this mission is to me, and I'm grateful for that."

I swallow whatever explanation I'd been about to give her, letting it sink into the recess of my gut. Her words are soft and kind and harken back to the earliest memories I have of her when the sting of what I did to her hadn't affected her.

Times when she would tell me anything, and laugh joke with me. If she's inching back to that mood with me, that feeling , the last thing I want to do is muck it up with more excuses that won't erase what I'd done.

"I'm never keeping you out of the loop again," I say before pressing my hand against the biometric scanner, the door sliding open.

We step inside, and I watch her face as she takes in the room.

Her eyes widen as she scans the room and the array of screens on the wall, the computers spread over multiple desks, the lush furniture and eating area, the stacks of books in the far corner on shelves that reach to the ceiling, and then finally to the table in the center, big enough to hold far more than just who's sitting there.

Alek is, of course, at the head of the table, flanked by Lachlan and a rare sighting from Ransom, as this meeting is important enough to drag him away from his pregnant mate.

Hawke sits to the left of him, and Benedict, the king's personal lie detector, sits to the right of Lachlan.

Ajax, Dagon, and Talon fill up another three seats, leaving four empty chairs.

One of them should have Saint in it, and in a perfect world, Samuel.

Saint must be off helping Aurora through another panic attack, his unique ability to slip inside her mind and calm her with soothing dreams one of the only antidotes to the torture his twin brother inflicted upon her.

Talia only hesitates for a moment before she takes the first step toward the table, sinking into a seat next to Talon, who nods to her respectfully. I sit on her other side, grateful my brothers knew her in another life and still treat her as if she wears my mating mark.

It's more than I can ever ask for, as well as not one of them betraying my secret or grilling me over the situation when we were awoken from stasis.

They all knew it was the first thing on my mind as we came out of our deep sleep, and had expressed concerns about it in the beginning, but I'd always shut them down. I'd immediately reached out to any living acquaintances from my past, and they assured me Talia died centuries ago, a rumor she apparently started herself, one that freed her from the obligation of taking her seat in the royal court, no doubt. And Conrad clearly knew she was alive, but no other contacts from our past did. She burned that history down, setting fire to her family's estate after her parents' passed, and never looked back.

I'd carried that pain of her death with me while adjusting to the modern world and suffering the horrible blow from Samuel, but when I found out she was alive? I knew every single one of my brothers was wondering what the fuck I was doing and why I wasn't on my knees every second of every night begging for her forgiveness.

Begging for her to take me back.

But I know Talia better than she may even know herself, despite the huntress she'd turned into since I last saw her. I know begging won't work, only atonement. And like I said the other night, even if it took me an eternity, I would find a way to make up for what I had done.

"Thank you for coming," Alek says, smiling softly at Talia.

That smile from any unmated male would send me into a frenzy, my instincts still very much begging me to complete the bond with my mate.

For instance, if Dagon looked at her with such kindness, such softness, and respect, I fear Ajax would have to stop time to keep me from coming across the table at him. And Saint, who mercifully wasn't here, because he's just mad enough to tempt it.

"I appreciate the invite, your majesty," Talia answers.

"This mission is as much yours as it is ours," Alek says, then glances at Dagon. "Dagon, you called this meeting, ensuring that you had information that was vital to all of us. The floor is yours."

Dagon nods to the king, then glances to me and does his best to not even turn his head Talia's way.

I've always loved my brothers, but he earns my deepest respect at that move alone, and I flash him an apologetic look.

"I hope the first thing out of your mouth is that you're going to help my mate's niece," Ransom interjects.

The highlander next to the king laughs, while Hawke, next to Ransom, seems utterly bored as he plays with a knife, flipping it end over end, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else than here.

"Like I've told your mate," Dagon says, clearing his throat to rid it of his normal dickish attitude as he looks at Ransom, who seems like he might unravel at any second. Poor bastard, bringing new vampires into the world the way they are is certainly stressful. "I will help her niece if there's any real evidence of her being an elemental. I've got a few tips, but neither one of them have shown me any real inkling that she actually has those powers. Our time is divided enough, and she isn't at risk or in danger. If that time comes, I assure you I will help."

Ransom digests the information, then gives Dagon a nod.

"Okay," Dagon says, blowing out of breath. "I spoke with Gunther earlier this evening," he says, referring to one of those acquaintances from our past. "And he told me he heard a rumor that Conrad is collecting ancient remedies that make transitioning half-bloods more successful. I'm sure we can all assume this is to increase his numbers, and as much as I hate to say it, likely Samuel's numbers as well. The two of them have likely found a common cause and have teamed up. I don't have any hard evidence to suggest that, but I don't mind speaking my assumptions out loud."

"Holy shit," Talia says, almost more to herself than the room at hand. She sits up a little straighter. "It makes sense," she says. "I've tracked him all over the globe, and I knew he was stealing artifacts from ancient bloodline households, but I didn't know why . I thought it was just to open doors of conversation to try to get more wealthy bloodlines on his side. Or to piss them off. I had no idea that the artifacts contained properties that would help him create new vampires."

"And he's not interested in creating vampire allies ," Lachlan says from the king's right. "He's transitioning these half-bloods and then starving them, intentionally creating bloodmads. Why?"

"My guess?" Talia says as the highlander dips his head. "He doesn't want an army of vampires with their own conscious choices. He wants an arsenal of weapons, grenades that he can throw and unleash and dispose of without a second thought."

"It also keeps us busy," Ajax offers, and I nod thinking the same thing.

"He's certainly stretching us thin," Talon agrees.

"And with half of our focus on containing the bloodmad threat, and the rest of us focused on finding Samuel or Conrad, we're divided," Dagon finishes the train of thought.

I rub my palms over my face at almost the same time that Alek does, the two of us wearing the heavy crown of leadership in both of our roles, although his has more jewels in it than my imaginary one does.

"What about your mate's brother? Dagon asks Lachlan. "Has Kyle Moorehouse been tracked down? If anyone had the full list of half-bloods they're pursuing, it would be him, correct? We've already exhausted all of the resources from Mrs. Zorin."

I cringe a little bit at that, hating every minute we'd spent interrogating Mrs. Zorin. She was the epitome of everything I hated about supposed pure blood vampire aristocracy. She was an evil creature but had a survival instinct that assisted us when we needed information.

But both Saint and Grace had already been traipsing through her mind, extracting every useful ounce of information she had. She only had fourth of the knowledge of the half-bloods the greater unit of the Sons of Honor were pursuing. There were still more out there at risk.

"Valor," Lachlan says, his jaw going taught, "has been putting feelers out for her brother for quite some time, despite my argument against it. She's doing her best to lure some kind of communication with him. If it happens, I assure you, everyone at this table will be the first to know."

"So we need to set a trap," Talia offers, and pride bolts through my chest. She has a voice here, a strong and confident and very capable voice that has me absolutely even more mad for her than I was before.

"We set a trap," Talon says, nodding at her.

"Ransom," Alek says as Ransom heads toward the bank of computers across the room.

"Already on it," Ransom answers, clicking away at the keyboard so fast my eyes can barely follow. "Got it," he says, heading back to the table. "I've sent a list of all the known places Conrad has already stolen from to your devices. We need to hit research mode, compiling a list of any other known aristocratic lines that he might be hitting and the artifacts he might be going after. Once we find a viable item, we can spring a trap."

"Perfect," Talia says, scooting away from the table, the rest of us following suit after Alek does. "I'll hit the records room in the library now," she says, then glances at me. "Will you show me where it is?"

I nod, then look to Talon, Ajax, and Dagon. "Will you three check on Saint before going on patrol tonight?"

"Always do," Dagon says before bowing slightly to the king and walking out of the room with Ajax and Talon.

Alek, Lachlan, Hawke, Ransom, and Benedict all linger near the sitting area of the war room, clearly having more to discuss than what's in our need to know.

"I'll let you know when we find something," I say to Alek before dipping my head and guiding Talia out of the war room.

The door shuts behind us, locking automatically as I guide her through the residence to the grand library, where the records room rests inside.

Talia pauses when the door shuts behind us, arching her neck to take in the stacks upon stacks of ancient tomes the room holds. There isn't another soul in here at this time of night, which is damn near close to dawn.

"Okay, now I see why it pays to be king," she says, spinning slightly to take in all the books.

I laugh softly. "Never mind the infinite power and wealth and prestige or ruling over an entire species. Bring on the books?"

"Power and wealth and prestige can chafe after a while, but books? Books are always a good idea."

"I'm glad you think so," I say. "Because we're about to have to dig in."

Three hours and countless tomes later, Talia and I have compiled a viable list of possible places Conrad might hit in the upcoming weeks. "We'll have to dispatch assassins to some of the locations that are farther away," I say, leaning back in the chair. "But we're getting lucky that there are a few ancient homes in Edgemont."

"Thanks to its royal historic location," Talia adds. "We'll be able to discuss a possible trap for tomorrow evening. Shouldn't we take this list to Alek now?" Talia asks.

"No," I say, scooting back from my chair at the table in the center of the room, grabbing a stack of books, and heading toward the shelf I'd taken them from.

Talia follows behind me, looking delectable as fuck with her hair mussed from running her fingers through it so much as we researched.

"It's information that can wait until nighttime," I explain as I put back the books one by one.

"It's only nine a.m.," she says. "Surely not everyone is in bed yet."

I finish putting the last book away, then turn to face her. "Precisely," I say, cocking a brow down at her. "Nine a.m."

"And?" she asks, totally oblivious.

"And," I say, doing my best to keep the three-foot distance between us despite everything in me wanting to cross it. "It's nine a.m. and almost everyone in this residence is mated . What do you think they're doing?"

"Oh," she says, a little surprise fluttering over her features. "Of course," she says, shaking her head as if she's chiding herself.

She glances down the row of stacks that we're standing in, her eyes falling on the last few tomes scattered across the table we'd abandoned seconds ago. She flicks her fingers, and the books rise in the air, flying gracefully before tucking themselves back into their spaces.

"I've always admired that gift," I say, truly astounded by the power she possesses. "I remember when you used to pull my tea just out of reach."

She bites back her smile. "And I remember how furious you pretended to be when I did it."

"I always wondered what it would be like to move things with my mind," I say.

"Are you asking for a taste of my power?"

"Never," I answer, deadly serious. Borrowing power even from those who would give it to me willingly, is dangerous. Our powers are linked with our lives, intertwined in a way that is impossible to separate. Taking too much of someone's power, even if they're offering it to me, can lead to death in the span of a heartbeat. I rarely take the risk.

And absorbing someone's powers completely? That only happens if I kill the person who possesses it, which is something I would absolutely never do to her.

Talia steps across the distance between us, tipping her head to look up at me. "I can give you a little bit," she says, a tease to her tone as she drags her finger down the center of my chest. "All you have to do is ask."

My muscles go tense beneath her touch, bunching with need. I cover her hand with mine, holding it in place over the center of my chest. "You would so easily risk allowing me to take power from you, but you won't consider letting me back into your heart."

Talia visibly swallows, her eyes falling to where my hand holds hers. "Why haven't you been back to my bedroom?" she asks instead of addressing my question.

And that's fair, I deserve that.

"You haven't been to mine," I counter, smiling down at her. "Consent is a thing in this century, you know." Even though it always had been for me, I'm more aware of it now than ever, not wanting to take one misstep or pretend like I have any liberties when it comes to the female before me.

Something flickers in her lilac eyes, a heat I swear I can feel lick down my spine. "Is that all you've been waiting for?" she asks. "My consent?" She steps ever closer, her body flush against mine, and my arms automatically wrap around her.

"Of course," I answer, my heart thudding rapidly against my chest.

Talia's hands splay over my chest and she smirks. "You can have my body. Not my heart."

"I'll take whatever pieces of you I can have," I say before slanting my mouth over hers.

I groan at the feel of her mouth on mine, at the way she parts her lips and lets me in like she's as starved for me as I am for her.

My hands roam over her body, greedy and dominant as I walk her back until her spine kisses the nearest shelve of books.

Hoisting her up, I shudder as she automatically locks her ankles around my back, never missing a beat as we continue to claw at each other.

"Fuck, Talia," I sigh against her mouth, every inch of my body coming alive at the feel of her against me.

"Yes, please," she moans right back, slipping a hand between us and diving it right to where I'm rock hard and aching for her.

I pull back, my fangs distending. "You want me to fuck you right here?"

She nods, lilac eyes lust-hazed. " Now ."

Goddamn, this female. I've waited centuries to sink inside her, to reclaim her as mine. I'd planned it out countless times, and not once did I think it would be hurried or in a space we could get caught.

"Z," she pleas, gripping me so tight I thrust into her hand. "Please. I'm aching."

Fuck me, I can't resist that.

"Let me give you what you need," I say, setting her on her feet.

She immediately wiggles her pants down to her ankles, only taking time to free one leg as I drop mine too. A few heartbeats and I have her back against the stacks, my cock lining up with her heat.

I hold her up with one arm, using my free hand to drag my cock through her wetness, groaning at the evidence of her need for me.

"I had plans for our first time," I say through gritted teeth as she rocks where I tease her. "A bed. Privacy. All the time in the world."

"Plans change. And I don't need any of those things," she says, breathless, her thighs squeezing my hips as she does her best to sink atop my cock. "I just need this."

I can't deny her.

Can't wend us back to my quarters, not when she's asking for me right here, right now. I won't dare do anything to interrupt that, to risk breaking this connection with her. And I'll never not give her what she needs ever again.

I crush my lips against hers and slowly, carefully inch my way inside her silken heat.

" Fuck ," I groan, every muscle in my body locking up.

I hold still, allowing her to adjust to my size, and do my best to take a fucking breath so I don't lose myself entirely. She feels like heaven, all hot, searing heat and sweetness made just for me.

"Z," she moans, squeezing her thighs again as she rocks against me. "You feel so damn good."

My fangs ache, my blood thrashing hot in my veins with her words, her movements, her breathy little moans. I shift my hands to her hips, lifting her up only to slam home inside her again.

"Yes," she breathes the word, her arms tightening around my neck to draw our bodies absolutely flush.

Our eyes meet as I pull out again, holding her on the edge of pleasure before thrusting inside her again.

I don't dare look away, not even as I pump into her over and over again.

Not as she bites her lip, doing her best to keep from moaning too loud here in the library.

Not as her breaths come faster, her body trembling against mine as she rocks against me in time to my thrusts.

Fucking hell, she feels amazing.

Feels like mine .

My fangs ache to sink into her flesh, to taste her blood and be connected to her on every level, but she hasn't asked, so I won't push.

"Oh, God," she moans, clinging to me tighter, her pussy clenching hard around my cock. "Don't. Stop."

I maintain everything in that moment—speed, intensity, the way I'm holding her. I won't risk disobeying her in any sense of the word.

"Yes," she breathes, her features shifting to a delightful mixture of pleasure and frustration as her orgasm builds.

It's enough to make my knees nearly buckle, but I hold my release back, knowing there is no way in hell I'm coming before her.

"Just. Like. That," she emphasizes each word in time with my thrusts, and when I feel her pussy flutter around my cock, I know she's one good stroke away from flying.

So I give it to her.

"Z!" she gasps, her grip on me tightening as she comes.

I keep pumping her through it, lightning zapping down my spine at the feel of her unraveling in my arms. It's everything. She's everything.

"Ohmigod," she breathes as I work one orgasm right into another, her body so damn responsive to the way I'm pleasuring her. "Yes, yes, yes!"

When she clenches around me again, I fall over that edge with her, spilling inside of her in an intense release that feels like it's been building for years. I hold her through it, claiming her mouth while the two of us tremble as we come down.

Her smile interrupts our kiss, and I pull back, unable to not mirror the look of pure bliss.

"Damn," she says, her tone loose and happy.

She wiggles against me, and I gently remove myself, setting her on her feet.

She hurries into her pants, so I do the same.

"If that's what it's like in public and in a hurry, I can barely imagine what it'll be like in a bed."

My grin widens. "You're saying there will be a next time?"

She smirks, her lilac eyes filled with mischief. "We'll see."