Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Huntley

I pause midway up the ladder, tilting my head to listen. Above me, muffled voices off to the left mark the locations of our enemies. That's where the tables are, so that makes sense. But where are the children?

Dante said the last time he reported his progress, the burgundy-haired bitch had them seated in the corner over by the serving buffets.

If that's still the case, this plan should work.

Behind me, Jaxon shifts impatiently. I shoot him a quelling glance down the ladder.

Stealth over speed.

My earpiece fires to life, and Dante's whisper speaks into my ear. "Ready when you are. Is everyone in position?"

I glance to where a half-dozen members of our clan are waiting silently in the tunnel. The fathers of the children are ready to fight, the mothers are ready to receive their young to make their escape.

"Ready." I meet the expectant gazes of the others and nod. "Here we go."

A thunderous boom shakes the rafters above, followed by shouts and snarls.

I spring the latch of the trapdoor, surging upward to emerge behind the long buffet that serves a hundred people at any meal. In a crouch, I shift away from the opening of the tunnel, pressing flat against the buffet as I position myself to see the back corner of the dining hall.

Shouts and snarls fill the air as Dante and Link clash with the enemy vampires across the room. They're going on about how fucked up it is that the eight of them are still sitting around drinking our booze and terrorizing our children when the two of them are hungry and have been elbow deep in the bodies of family and friends for hours upon hours.

The eight of them, he said. Perfect. Thanks, Dante.

No one notices our silent arrival.

At the end of the buffet cabinet, I peek around the corner and scan the room. The children are huddled by the wall, a lone vampire standing guard over them.

His back is to me, his attention focused on the argument.

Glancing back, I hold up a finger for Jaxon and the others to signal them to wait. Slowly, silently, I rise from my crouch and race across the thirty-foot open space.

The guard's focus is solely on the melee and, in the blur of movement, I'm behind him with an arm wrapped around his throat. If he were a true-blood, his heightened senses would've picked up my approach… but he's not.

A sharp twist, a crack, and his lifeless body slumps in my hold. The snap of bone is lost in the shouts of the others and so are the few whimpered cries of surprise from the children.

As the children recoil, I soften my gaze and press a finger to my lips. Then, with a jerk of my head, I direct the shellshocked children toward their fathers.

In a scramble, the older kids help the younger, and everyone hustles to get behind the serving station. Jaxon guides them to the trapdoor, and one by one they are lowered into the tunnel below by their fathers.

The argument Dante and Link have started has devolved into a fight and though born vampires are a hell of a lot stronger than turned vampires, at eight to two, the odds aren't in their favor.

"Straight to the abandoned Bay station platforms. Get them to safety."

Jaxon frowns. "You're staying?"

"We've still got family here and Benoit to track down."

"Do you want me to stay?"

"No. I want you to get them to safety."

He gives me a grim nod and disappears into the floor after them, pulling the trapdoor closed behind him.

With their escape in progress, I focus my attention on the guard's body. Gripping his head, I press my boot on his shoulder and yank. It's a gory, bloody thing ripping a man's head off, but considering the events of the past twenty-four hours, it's cathartic.

And more psychological relief is needed.

Much more.

Joining the dining hall brawl, I throw the head and clock a raider in the face. Sinew and blood coat his mouth and I take advantage of his distraction by racing up to him and shattering his knee with a brutal kick.

When he drops to the floor, I rip his head off, too.

The stifled scream of my opponent draws the attention of the others and the chaos as the fight intensifies.

Dante is grappling with a massive guy, who, if I'm not mistaken, was a weightlifting professional in his days before his transition. With a roar, the guy hurls Dante across the room to slam into the wall and crumple to the floor.

"Damn, D. That's gotta hurt."

"It's only a flesh wound," Dante grunts, rolling to his feet. "I'm not dead yet."

I bend and grab the guard's head off the ground and, with the second guy's head in my other hand, I bash at my opponents, using bloody skulls as my weapons.

An impressive string of cursing draws my attention toward the exit. One of the enemy vampires has Link pinned against the inside of the closed door, his feet raised a foot off the floor.

Link's legs flail helplessly as his claws swing, and he spews out every nasty thing he can think of. If his attacker were anyone other than a member of Daeva's raiding force, it would be funny.

But it's not. He's one of the turned fuckers that Zane sent me a picture of, and he's marked for death.

In a blur, I barrel into the vampire, knocking him away from Link. We crash onto the floor, the vampire's head smacking against the marble with a satisfying crack. He lies still beneath me, his eyes glassy and vacant.

I leap to my feet, chest heaving, and relieve him of his head, tossing his noggin into the now growing pile. "I've got three of the eight. Come on, boys. We've got quotas to fill."

Dante chuckles. "Sorry. Didn't know we were counting. On it. I left two of mine over there. I'll get to the beheading in a minute. But first, let's finish this."

The two remaining enemies back away slowly. The doors are shut and we're blocking their escape. And since they don't know where the secret tunnels are within the residences, they're SOL.

With snarls of rage, Dante, Link, and I advance as one.

This ends now.

Zane

I stare at the contracts and financial reports flickering across the screen, frustration churning in my gut. The Vasari business empire is a tangled web, each thread connecting to another in a maze I can't fully unravel.

At least, not yet.

Thankfully, my father has what he called the ‘intrepid triad' in place. Ginny Harper, Brandon Stern, and James Tripp are the corporate powers that keep the Vasari empire cogs turning.

Ginny is the efficient machine that oversees all.

Brandon Stern follows the money.

And James Tripp is our tech guy who has performed more than a few hacker miracles.

"Explain the shipments arriving from New Orleans again," I demand, pinching the bridge of my nose. "There's something I'm missing."

Ginny's composed voice filters through the speakers as she starts again. "The shipping containers carry electronics and audio parts that work to strengthen the facade of legitimate business operations. However, glamored within the contents are the latest magical objects to be used, sold, or distributed at your discretion."

I slump deeper into my leather chair. "Dad and his Voodoo witches."

"Technically, Madame Cadieux is a practitioner of Hoodoo."

"Right. Sorry." There are so many moving parts leading the businesses, the coven, the Fondatori seat of power, each one threatening to slip through my fingers.

I have to get a handle on this. Fast.

"And which of the shell companies do the witch shipments fall under? I've forgotten already."

Brandon chuckles, the sound grating. "Patience, Zane. This will take time." His arrogance sparks irritation, but I need his expertise, despite his pompous attitude frustrating me.

James clears his throat. "Aveline Industries places the orders for the electronics, and a numbered corporation hides the money trail and ownership of assets of the magical objects. They make it appear as if the shipments and deliveries are coming from and going to legitimate businesses. However, we control each company, allowing us to?—"

I pinch the bridge of my nose as James continues, a headache forming behind my eyes. When the call falls silent, I check back in. "Perfect. Thank you. Is that everything?"

Ginny taps her fingers over her keyboard and a shared screen opens in our video call. Her gaze meets mine, steady and assessing. "Sorry, not yet. Eight months ago, a company building an alternative exchange came to Toronto. If approved, it could interrupt the Vasari monopoly on several fronts."

I frown, scanning the documents which outline the details. "And is this company run by human competitors or someone from the supernatural world?"

"We thought it was a legitimate human company, but they have been moving through appropriations faster than should be possible."

"And my father's plan to counter this was what?"

Ginny folds her hands on her desk in front of her. "He said he would take steps to prevent that from happening."

My headache intensifies, a sharp pain behind my eyes. For months I've been bored and shut out of the business. Now, I'm left scrambling to make up for that oversight. "What steps?"

"I'm sorry, sire. I cannot say."

Fabulous. "All right. The first thing we need to do is find out who is behind the push for the new exchange. Tripp, I need you to work your magic and find out if they are human and bribing officials or if they're from the Otherworld and are using magic to power their way through. Once I know that, I'll decide what to do about it."

My gaze drifts out the window to where Scottie is laying by the pool. Originally, she was typing, but now she's just laying there in yoga pants and a T-shirt, glistening in the sun.

Fuck, what I wouldn't give to be a daywalker right now.

If I were free to go to her, I would stride out there, strip off her clothes and pull her into the pool with me. The water would envelop us in a chill against the heat and when her nipples peaked, I would wrap my arms around her back and lift her so I could puncture the fleshy mounds. My tongue would flick over the gathered tips and?—

"Mr. Vasari?"

I blink and bring my attention back to the monitor.

Shit. It's a good thing this is a video call because my cock is hard and there would be no hiding it if I were in a boardroom meeting right now.

The Vasari empire has stood for centuries. I will not be the one to topple our dynasty.

"Is there anything else?"

James nods. "Actually, yes. When I did my quarterly sweep of properties and tenants, I noticed one of the Vasari property managers is reporting several concourse units empty when he has, in fact, rented them. I accessed his banking records and he's been collecting the monthly rent and property fees for himself."

Anger flares hot in my blood. I've had enough of assholes from within our own organization betraying our trust. First Benoit and now a property manager?

"James, send me what you have on him. I'll handle it. Ginny, find someone to manage this man's workload. There's about to be a job opening in our organization."

"Yes, sire."

"What about the blood trade? Is there anything there that needs my attention?"

"Nothing that we're aware of, sire."

When my phone buzzes, I end the meeting and answer Huntley's call. "Tell me."

"The children are safe and on their way to the Lower Bay subway compound."

"Casualties?"

"Only on their side."

Relief washes over me, loosening the tension in my shoulders. At least something has gone right today. "And the others within the compound?"

"I stayed behind with Link and Dante. They'll notify the others that the children are safe and they're free to fight. I'm heading to the kitchens now to find Benoit."

"Find him, Huntley. He needs to pay."

"I swear it, Z. Benoit will pay, and so will anyone who stands in my way."

"Safe hunting."

He lets off a wry chuckle. "I'll report back once it's done."

"Thank you… for everything."

With that, Huntley ends the call. I close my eyes and exhale. The children are safe and if all goes according to plan, they will arrive at the fallback compound soon.

When I open my eyes and glance out the window again, Scottie is gone. Worry twists my gut as I stand and head downstairs. She wouldn't leave, would she?

I sense her the moment I begin the descent to the first floor. I find her in the kitchen, standing between the open doors of the refrigerator. She's tipping a glass back, drinking in deep, thirsty gulps.

Am I that far gone that her drinking water looks erotic?

Yes. Yes, I am.

Not wanting to disturb her, I lean sideways in the entryway and watch. When she lowers the empty glass to the counter, her skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and her flaxen gold hair is a deep honey gold along her hairline.

She startles when she sees me watching, her gaze locking with mine. For a moment, a familiar tension crackles between us. Then she shakes her head and looks away. "How did your meetings go?"

"Boring, but important. Huntley just called. The children are safe and being brought to the fallback compound in the abandoned Lower Bay Station. I thought you would want to be there with me to welcome them."

She levels a look at me, one brow arching in challenge. "Whether or not I want to be there is irrelevant. I am bound to serve and protect you."

I clench my jaw against the bitterness in her tone. This is everything I want, but not the way I want it. I don't want her to feel trapped—she should want to be here with me.

She doesn't want to hear my apologies. I've tried.

But for her, I'll try again.

"Scots, please. I was in a violent and scary place and didn't want you to see the beast I felt growing inside me. I wanted you safe and happy."

"I was safe and happy."

"Well, you wouldn't have been if I allowed myself to take you that night. Dammit, Scots, I would've devoured you. I wanted you so badly I would've lost control."

There's nothing but hurt and sadness in her dark blue eyes. The mischievous light that used to sparkle in their depths is gone and it guts me that I did that to her. "You never would've hurt me… at least, I never thought you would."

"Scots, your father almost killed me when you ran away, but he heard me out. He knew the entire story, and he understood. He watched how wrecked I've been since you left. Knowing that I love you and would die for you, he knowingly bound our futures. Doesn't that say something to you?"

Her anguish cleaves my heart, but before her glassy eyes spill their tears, she fights off the emotion and swallows. "I'm here to support you in your time of transition and our time of grief. We'll find the bitch who did this and get our revenge. I've got nothing else to offer you."

When she pushes away from the counter, her features school into a neutral mask. I want to reach for her, but know she'll only pull away like she always does.

‘The lass is stubborn as rocks,' Bran always said.

He was one to talk. Like father, like daughter.

But the difference now is that she's here for the foreseeable future and I have time to chip away at the walls she's built between us.

I can be patient—I'm an eternal being, after all.

The air conditioning inside is a huge contrast to the summer sun outside and even from twenty feet away, I see the goosebumps rise on her silky skin.

She runs her hands over her bare arms, and I race upstairs, grab a hoodie from my room and am back in the heartbeat of a moment. "Here. You look chilly."

She glares at me when I hold it open for her to slide her arms into the sleeves. "I have my own hoodie."

"You mean the one caked with blood and covered in the grime of an alley brawl?"

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "Yeah, that one."

I give the hoodie a little shake and smile. "You're here to watch over me, and I intend to watch over you at the same time. You don't trust me, and I know you don't forgive me, but I'll prove myself to you, Scots."

The furious glare tells me what she thinks of that.

"Scottie, come on. I was an arrogant idiot—a huge one—and I own it. I was ashamed of what I was becoming and a coward. I want a second chance. Your dad knew that and gave me that chance. I won't screw up again."

She takes the hoodie from my hand and slides into it without my help. "Da didn't give you a second chance. He knew there was a traitor in the guards. That's all."

"Agree to disagree." With a resigned sigh, I gesture toward the hallway and lead her to where a section of paneled wall hides the access point to the elevator.

Once inside, we descend into the tunnels below. She may not want to love me back, but at least in clan business, we are still united. The safety and wellbeing of our clan will always come before past pains and unresolved longing.

So, I'll take what I can get.