Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Scottie

W hy does riding in an elevator with someone supercharge the dominant emotion of the moment? If you're tired, the ride seems to drag on forever. If you're horny, the sparks fly, and that small box becomes incredibly intimate. And if your lifelong love tells you he wants a second chance, there's no hiding from the awkward silence.

Did Da really bind me to Zane because he forgave him?

I find that hard to believe. My father allowed people to make their own choices. He never liked me living in New York, but he never tried to influence my decision. He understood my heartache and my need for autonomy.

He supported my independence.

No. Him gifting me his squire powers is about there being a traitor in the guards or his worry about me escaping Daeva and her thugs. He would absolutely have given me his powers if he thought they would give me the edge I needed to escape and survive.

The elevator opens and we step out into a dark antechamber about five feet wide and three feet deep. Our movement triggers a motion sensor, and an overhead security light comes on.

I wonder what's going on until I see the numerical keypad of the door security light up. Zane moves to it, punches in a six-digit code and then a metallic click sounds and he's swinging the panel in front of us out of the way.

The air on the other side of the panel door is cool, and I'm surprised by the volume of people bustling past us. The light from the overhead fluorescents casts a bright shine on the white subway tiles and I read the station stop on the wall.

BAY is written in large, black letters and then YORKVILLE is written in smaller letters below.

"I thought the station was abandoned. Don't tell me we're going to jump into the tracks and jog into the darkness. That's how people like me get electrocuted or squashed."

Zane chuckles. "This is Bay Station. The compound is in the Lower Bay Station, abandoned by the TTC after only six months of use."

"And where is the Lower Bay Station?"

"It's in the name, Scots." The amusement in his voice carries over his shoulder as he leads us through the crowd waiting for their train.

I scan the faces and expressions of the people we pass and thankfully, no one takes notice of us—well, no one who looks suspicious.

Zane has a confident and powerful air about him and in a snazzy suit and with his vampire genetics, he's heart-stoppingly beautiful. So, while no one is openly sizing us up for a fight, there are more than a few women sizing him up as sexy eye candy.

Zane scans the area as we head toward the end of the platform, his gaze completely passing over the women as if he doesn't even see them.

I hate to admit that I'm glad he shows them no interest—no, I loathe to admit it—but the only way I'll survive being in his wake is if I'm honest with myself. My heart once belonged to him and even though nothing came of it, he holds power over me.

I will pretend otherwise until I break free of it, but I won't deny it—at least not to myself.

He's tense despite his protests that he's safe. He may say he's not concerned about leaving the safe house, but the tension in his frame and the clench of his jaw say otherwise.

He's got himself locked down and will attack at the first sign of trouble.

Not that anyone would attack him in the middle of a human thoroughfare in downtown Toronto. That would be tantamount to declaring the existence of ‘other' and that would bring an entirely different death sentence into play.

Because while there are some instances where humans are aware of and even live within the worlds of the supernatural, the existence of angels, demons, vampires, and other races of magical creatures isn't public knowledge.

To openly expose it is not only forbidden, it's dangerous. I used to feel special being part of the secret. Now I wish I didn't know and could live a normal life unaware.

"Scots? Are you all right?" He studies me, and his stern gaze warms and softens as he takes me in. "Did you see something that upset you?"

"No. Nothing. Everything's fine."

We continue down the platform and I focus on our surroundings, watching the shadows for anyone who might be watching us. No one is. There are two dozen people down here and most of them are more interested in their coffee or their conversations or getting to their next stop.

No one seems to wonder about the vampire prince walking past them. No, not the vampire prince.

Zane's a Fondatori King now.

I take in his profile as we reach the end of the platform and he opens up a door marked, ‘Authorized Personnel Only'. We walk down the private corridor beyond, and after a few twists and turns, he stops at a nondescript door.

The aura of a magical glamor washes over my skin.

Zane keys in an access code and we step through the doorway and down several flights of concrete steps. When we get to the bottom, Zane drags the meaty pad of his thumb over his pointed incisor and then presses his thumb into a small opening beside the latch of the door.

The metallic click of the latch allows us entrance and we step through.

"You realize that everyone leaving bloody thumbprints in that little hole is disgusting, right?"

Zane chuckles, dragging his tongue over his thumb to seal the wound and stop the bleeding. "Vampire blood burns off surfaces fairly quickly and we don't carry germs like humans do. Blood is kind of our thing."

"Yeah. I may have noticed that over the years."

We move into the Lower Bay Station, and I stop on the empty concrete platform beside Zane. The access door to the safe house elevator antechamber is an oversized posterboard featuring an old Walter Matthau/Jack Lemmon comedy called The Fortune Cookie.

The next one down the platform is Born Free.

"Wow, it's like a time capsule down here. What year was this station abandoned?"

"1966." Zane studies the faded poster and chuckles. "Do you remember how obsessed my father was with the Odd Couple and Grumpy Old Men?"

"He loved those two as a comedy team."

"He really did."

Francesco was a fun and complicated guy. A vampire king who ran a mafia crime seat of power and enjoyed chilling to comedy movies.

I can't imagine a world without him. Zane's father was always larger than life. He lived every moment of every day and made sure the people in his life knew he loved them and was thinking of them.

Da said he got like that after the death of Zane's mother.

Zane draws a deep breath and then gestures toward the darkness of the tunnel. "Come on. The compound is this way. And Scots… I want to talk to you about Huntley."

I tense, but try not to let my annoyance show. "What about him?"

"He's not coming right away, but he'll end up here. He feels betrayed by you and Bran and is pissed you snapped his neck and think he's untrustworthy."

Oh, is that all? "Karma is back to bite him in the ass. I won't apologize for Da's decision, Zane. I don't know why he transferred his squire powers to me, but I had nothing to do with it. I also won't apologize for taking him down. I've been gone for years and people change. Everyone is a potential threat to you until I determine otherwise."

He frowns. "It's important the clan sees us as a united front. They need to know that even with my father dead, I'm strong and ready to lead them through this."

I understand that. "Then I'll paint on a smiling face and play my part."

He frowns. "Is it really so horrible to be back here with us? To have my back in the worst moment of my life?"

"Yes, it is." I meet his gaze and let him see how serious I am. "Once we get our revenge, I'm gone. Don't try to muddy the waters or drag it out." I duck past him and move into the corridors of the compound.

"You can't mean that." Zane is behind me and by the heavy footfalls beating out an aggressive rhythm, he's mad. "It's what Bran wanted. It's what I want."

I spin on my heel and meet his hostility and frustration with my own. "And what about what I want, Zane? Does that ever factor in? No, it doesn't. It's never about me. You threw me away because I was a human girl that hadn't seen the world and didn't belong in your kingly circle. So why the 180? Does squire magic suddenly make me worthy of being at your side? The twenty-one years we grew up together didn't cut it but me having powers turns the tables?"

"It's not your squire powers." He curses and runs his fingers through his hair. "I told you I'm going to fix this, and I meant it."

"Some things can't be fixed."

In one beat of my pounding heart, he's wrapped his arms around me and has his hands laced into the hair at the nape of my neck. "Your feelings for me are still there, Scots. I hear it in the irregular beat of your heart when I'm near and in the soft intake of breath when our eyes meet. You can deny it all you want, but the girl I love is in there—and she loves me back."

I press my palms against the solid plane of his chest, but his arms caging me hold me in place. The attempt is half-hearted at best, my conviction to put distance between us dissolving more easily than I expected.

My head is a tangle of images from our past, my body stirring with the warmth and emotions I've fought to put behind me. And then there's what is in front of me.

The nearness of Zane is overwhelming enough but pressed against me from thighs to chest… there's no missing his erection pressing into my belly.

So, not gay then .

Zane drops his head, his mouth skimming over my jugular as my blood thunders through my veins. Warm breath washes over my skin and my body responds to him unbidden.

Need builds deep in me and a rush of warmth moistens my core. "Zane, stop. Please."

"I love you, Scots. If it takes me ripping my chest open to show you how my heart beats for you, I will. I will earn your trust back and I will prove myself to you."

My heart hurts. He's saying all the right things, but the pain of the past still aches deep in my soul. He destroyed me last time. I had no identity without him being part of my life, and it took years to find myself.

I won't lose that.

I close my eyes, swallow, and fight to rein in my body's reaction to him. With more force than my first attempt, I push away from his hold, and he releases me.

A little distance does me good and I pull in a steadying breath, feeling more myself. "You have nothing to prove to me, Zane. We had our chance, and you destroyed me. Once the attack is resolved, I will transfer Da's powers to the best candidate to be your squire and return to my life. You're not good for me."

The color in Zane's face drains as his expression drops. "You can't mean that."

"I do. You wrecked me, and the decisions I made after that moment in your bedroom almost killed me. It took years for me to find myself and grow strong and whole on my own. I won't risk the woman I've become, not even for you."

I've said more than I meant to, but it doesn't matter.

It needed to be said.

He needs to move on and so do I.

Straightening, I continue down the platform in the direction Zane was leading us and am quickly swallowed by the shadowed darkness.

Vampire sight isn't perfect in the dark, but they don't have trouble seeing in the shadows. My squire powers will give me heightened sight once they truly take hold and I train with them, but for now, my phone torch will do the job.

My flashlight lights my way for another ten feet before a second glamor tingles over my skin. Pushing through the brief resistance of witch magic, the spell pops and I pass to the other side.

In an instant, the dark and dingey tunnel morphs into a bright and welcoming home away from home.

The fallback Vasari compound.

The space is vast, the glow of ten crystal chandeliers casting thousands of tiny light prisms around the open living room. The floor is a highly polished stone, and the walls are silver with oxblood fabric swags hanging in lazy swoops around the ceiling line twenty feet above.

The Vasari colors are both welcoming and grounding.

"Why are the lights on?" Zane mumbles, moving to get in front of me. "We should be the first here."

I tense, searching the space for intruders.

Instead, I spot the man lying battered and beaten on one of the many leather couches fifty feet away.

"Jack!" My shoes beat out a frantic rhythm as I close the distance, running with my heart pounding against the base of my throat. When I get to the couch, a gasp rips from my chest. Should I be horrified or relieved?

I settle on a mixture of both.

"He's alive, beautiful." I spin at the deep rumble of Tucker's voice behind me. "He's just heavily doped up so he can heal."

Tucker gives me a lopsided smile and I lose all sense. My emotions spill over, and I launch. A mid-air assault barely registers to him, and he catches me without even staggering back. His massive arms wrap around me as he holds me off the ground.

"You saved him. Thank you." I link my arms around his neck and press my mouth to his. I intend it to be a quick kiss to thank this gorgeous stranger for saving me from mourning another member of my patchwork family, but something takes hold.

He tastes like safety and sunshine, and I melt into his arms. There is no fight or hurt or anguish in his arms. There is only comfort… like a part of me recognizes him.

I groan as our kiss deepens and every cell in my body fires to life. It's crazy and carnal. It's sexy and seductive. It's magic.

No. Literally… it's my squire magic.

The powers my father gave me swirl within me and heighten my sensations. Zane might've wound me up, but Tucker has sparks snapping off my skin.

I pull back and gasp. "I'm so sorry."

Tucker's eyes have gone from their usual rich caramel color to glowing gold. "No need to apologize. It's good to see you, too. And the kiss was more than welcome after the night we had. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"You won't live long enough to do anything if you don't put her down and take your fucking hands off her."

Oh, shit. I forgot about Zane.