Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Zane

B lood drips from my fingertips, warm and slick. My chest heaves, each breath a battle won against the terror that struck me the moment I saw Aksel about to attack Scottie. We stand amidst the opulent, open area of the clan fallback compound—now slick as a slaughterhouse floor.

That is the aftermath of my wrath…

Of the vampiric beast I am within…

And now she's seen it.

Crimson stains my hands, my clothes. It's not just blood. Fleshy bits of sinew cling to me like grotesque confetti. The sweet syrup of our essence lingers on my tongue.

Violence comes easily to me—too easily.

Before us, the remnants of a man who was part of my family lay lifeless, his surprised, wide-eyed stare drifting off to nothingness.

I survey the carnage and wonder what Scotland sees.

She's staring at me, her gaze taking in the macabre sight of me. The silence hanging between us is deafening, broken only by the soft drip-drip-drip of blood from my fingers to the floor. I turn slowly, allowing her to take in the full scope of devastation.

This is my doing. My legacy written in visceral script.

I'm sorry. I speak into her mind, sharing something with her that until now, I never thought I could. My words sound hollow amidst the stillness of post-carnage. I tried to keep my darkness at bay for you. I denied my feelings for you, terrified that one day you would see my true nature unleashed or fall prey to it.

Scottie's blue eyes lock onto mine. She stands resilient, her expression calm and grounded. "Do you think I didn't know you? That I couldn't see you to the depth of your tortured soul?"

I search her face for signs of revulsion. I exploded a man right in front of her and the plasma shrapnel of that violence is splattered all over her. I wait for the inevitable recoil, but there's nothing. Only the steady strength that has always defined her… and disappointment.

I'm such a fucking idiot.

Either my devastation or my gruesome state draws her concern. "Are you hurt?"

"Only by my own actions." I didn't want this for her—for us. She deserved so much more.

Her lips part, as if to speak, but no words come. Instead, she reaches up to my collar. When she pulls her hand back, she's holding a severed ear. "Who did this belong to?"

"Benoit." I watch her examine the severed ear, still waiting for the revulsion to hit. The man betrayed us. He deserved his fate, yet fear and guilt gnaw at me.

Her face is calm, resolute even, as she drops the ear and wipes her hand on her jeans. There's no disgust in her expression, no condemnation. She meets my gaze, unflinching. "And is this the biggest piece of him left?"

"Pretty much. Yes."

"Good. I hope he died a horrible death."

In her eyes, there's no horror, no fear—just an understanding that runs deeper than any river of blood we stand in. She sees through it all. To who I am. To who I have always been.

Around us, the clan watches, the weight of their gazes reminding me that this is neither the time nor the place for their king to be waxing philosophical.

Let them see the beast their king can become, cloaked in shadow and power.

I shake my hands toward the ground and blood and chunks of vampire drop to the plasma puddle at my feet. "All right. We've all had enough fun for one afternoon. I'm heading back to the safe house. Someone clean this up."

Huntley

The return to the safe house is a tense and awkward trek. The five of us—Zane, Scotland, Tucker, Jack, and me—make our way up through the Bay Station and into the private passageway that takes us back to Francesco's property. Scotland isn't happy that I've been invited back to the inner sanctum, but tough titties. Life is not for her to command.

The sweet scent of blood clings to Zane—Benoit's and Aksel's blood, and the remnants of everything that's been ripped apart in the last twenty-four hours. He was a beast as he shredded through that traitor—a feral, brutal, slaughtering beast.

I've never wanted him more.

I would've fucked right there in the subway tunnel if he didn't race back when Tucker called out to warn Scotland.

Some things never change. The moment she needs him, he loses sight of everything and everyone else around him.

But some things have changed. I'm more than his bodyguard now—I'm his best friend and lover. I replaced her and I have no intention of history repeating and becoming the third wheel again.

I cast a glance over to the blonde bombshell, my emotions warring between guilt, fury, betrayal, and the decades old yearning I thought I had long since buried.

Was her coming back here and taking my destiny payback for what I did that night? For stepping in when Zane rejected her? For showing her Zane wasn't the only one who loved her? I thought… I truly believed that with him out of the way, I could finally have my chance to make her happy.

Why could she never see me?

With Zane, everything was always about him.

With me, everything was always about her.

"Do you care which guest room Jack and Tucker stay in?" Scottie asks as we exit the elevator into the entrance of Francesco's escape house.

Zane shakes his head. "Any of the empty rooms is fine."

Scottie strikes off with Tucker carrying Jack, leaving me to follow Zane into the living room. Despite death sheathing him like a stagnant bloom, he's edgy, his face set in that broody, composed mask he wears.

I've been gauging his mood, but he's too wired for even me to read. Not that I blame him. His father, Bran, Scottie, Benoit… The past twenty-four hours have been filled with horrific revelations. "Have you spoken with the other kings and queens?"

He steps over to the butler's cabinet and pours us each a glass of blood-infused wine. "Last night. They're on alert. Daeva's attack rattled more than just us. First the Rainier clan goes down in Berlin, now turned vampires are taking a run at Toronto."

I accept the glass and take a sip, letting the sweet vintage of the blood take hold. "It's fucked up that Berlin fell. There's no way that's happening here."

Zane swallows, walking over to the window to stare at the sun edging toward the horizon. "Tell me about the compound. What is the state of things there?"

I move to stand behind him and rest my chin on his shoulder as we look out at the sun growing low on the horizon. "We exterminated the enemy vampires and set out our dead with an honor guard in the grand hall. Dante, Link, and I locked things down tight."

"Do you think the compound is secure?"

"For now, it is. I changed all the codes and secured the access points as per Bran's protocols. We're watching the security feeds closely, in case Daeva or her men try to come back. If it stays quiet, we'll be good to go home."

He lets out a long sigh and drops his head back to kiss my cheek. "I like the sound of that. The compound should never have been a vulnerability. Fucking Benoit."

"Well, you took care of him. Too bad we didn't question him a bit before you ripped him to shreds."

Zane straightens and steps away, tension still simmering off him.

"Killing Benoit didn't ease you nearly enough. Should I be worried?"

Zane pegs me with a glare. "Yes, you should be worried. We were attacked in our home. We've got someone coming after us in the markets, and Ginny told me we've got vampires embezzling money from us from property rentals. Nothing makes sense."

I step in front of him as he's pacing and palm the side of his neck. "And we'll handle it. We'll figure out who's behind the offences and we'll make examples of them."

Zane frowns. "Part of me wants to do just that, but another part of me wonders if all these things cropping up at the same time are just distractions."

"Distractions from what?"

"From figuring out who's behind Daeva and her army of men coming after my father."

"Then we send Link and Dante to handle the corporate traitors while you and I focus on the bigger problem—the army coming for your head."

He steps out of my hold and goes back to the bar to refill his glass. "But why didn't they come after my head? Why would anyone who took the time to infiltrate our compound attack without knowing where I was? A takeover only works if the family line is wiped out."

Yeah, that's been bugging me too.

They went after Francesco, but didn't have Zane or the diamond dagger in hand. That's either really stupid or we're missing something important.

And from the way things went off yesterday… I don't think the orchestrator of this is stupid.

"Benoit fed the royal family. He knew I wasn't at the residence. So why not wait until they knew where I was?" Zane downs another glass of wine, his gaze wild and unfocused.

The pressure on him is incredible, but he's doing himself no favors by standing here covered in blood and gore.

"We'll figure it out. Bran always said conflicts like this are about love, money, or power. This seems like it's all about power, but whoever is behind this has to have the bankroll to get this far. Get cleaned up and we'll start unraveling this mystery. Where can I work?"

"Bran's office is through here." Zane strikes off down the corridor and I follow. He leads me to a control room with four monitors mounted on the far wall and a phone and computer set-up that mirrors what we use in the royal residence. "Leave it to Bran to have full redundancy set up in the safe house."

Zane nods. "He was the best of the best."

"He was." So why the fuck did he pass me over at the last minute and make Scottie his successor?

Zane's attention shifts and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. It buzzes in his hand, and he accepts the call and hits the speaker button so I can hear.

Z told me earlier the Vasari IT guy, James Tripp, is digging into the company challenging us on the financial front.

Maybe he has answers.

Zane holds the cell up between us. "What did you find out, Tripp?"

"I've been looking into that company, and there's definitely something strange going on. On the surface, it looks like a regular human-run operation, but I've been tracking their financials. About a year ago, they started getting massive cash infusions, seemingly out of nowhere."

Zane's gaze narrows as it meets mine. "Who's behind the money?"

"I haven't got that far yet. The shell companies make it hard to trace, but whoever is behind this is buying up vast blocks of real estate in the financial core. Everything's being funneled through at least a dozen different fronts."

"Tripp, this is Huntley. Can you tell if the funding is coming from local sources or from overseas?"

"Uh… one sec, I wasn't looking for that." The sound of clicking keys fills the lull in conversation and then Tripp is back with us. "I don't see any overseas funding. It looks like all the deposits are from domestic banks."

I pause, thinking about the implications. Whoever's orchestrating this is here in Toronto, amassing power right under our noses. "Who in the city has that much cash?"

"I'll get to work on that with Brandon now," Tripp says. "We'll have a list for you later today."

"Good. I'll be waiting to hear from you." Zane hangs up, frustration obviously chipping away at him. "So, they take out the king, they go after our hold on legitimate money, and they're enticing members of our organization to betray us."

"They're destabilizing the Toronto seat of power."

Zane frowns at me. "That doesn't feel like an ordinary competitor coming for us—it feels personal."

It does. "But who has enough money and determination to take us down?"

"That's the multi-million-dollar question." Zane moves to slide his phone back into his pocket, but stops, making a face at the goopy globs of plasma and tissue stuck to his pants. "Well, that's disgusting."

It is, but after the battle in the residence, I'm not much better. "We'll need to clean ourselves up if you want to stay on this and drum up answers."

He meets my gaze and smiles. "Do you have a plan?"

"I have a few off-the-grid contacts that could help us, but we can't walk the streets looking like two victims of a horror movie."

Zane nods. "Agreed. But it won't just be the two of us. Scottie is here, and she's my Sacred Squire. From now on, where I go, she goes."

I peg the guy with an unimpressed look. "You trusted me to protect you last week and the weeks and months before that, didn't you?"

"Of course."

"Then nothing has changed. You are still mine to guard and protect. I have always considered you a target to be defended. The only difference now is that we know people are actively gunning for you."

"I understand that, but Scottie?—"

"—Is less than twenty-four hours into her duty, with no tactical training, and no idea how squire powers work. Knowing there is a target on your head, do you really want to put her in the line of fire?"

The muscle in Zane's jaw twitches, and I know I've got him. "No. She's safer here. Fine. We'll shower in the downstairs bathroom to avoid running into her and leave in ten."

I nod. "I'll make the arrangements."