Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Scottie

T he ride back to the house is thick with tension. The truck's engine hums steadily, but does nothing to drown out the anger boiling inside me. I sit in the passenger's seat, arms crossed tight over my chest, glaring daggers through the windshield as Tucker drives.

A thousand sickening scenarios of what could've happened tonight swim in my head. My knuckles are bruised, my arms scraped up from the fight, but I'm too furious to care about that pain. It's the pain of betrayal that burns hottest.

He fucking did it again.

He unilaterally decided what was best for me and in some fucked up act of what he likely considers gallantry, he walked away. Again.

He could've been killed.

Normally, the thought of Zane not sharing this planet with me brings me to a panicked recognition that I'm not as indifferent as I claim to be.

Tonight it makes me wonder what my life would be without Zane Vasari.

Tucker glances my way, raising an eyebrow, but he says nothing. He's smart enough to stay out of it.

Zane and Huntley, on the other hand, are fronting as if they're somehow justified in what they just pulled. Like they had every right to sidestep everything my father wanted and sacrificed for, simply to avoid a little tension.

I bite my tongue the whole ride. Every street and every turn adds another degree to the simmering rage inside me. By the time we pull into the garage, my hands are clenched into fists, my jaw so tight it hurts.

The moment the truck is turned off, I'm out of my seat and storming inside. I storm through the side entrance, ignore the beeping of the alarm, and then rebound back to the hallway after someone punches in the digits.

I can't hold it in any longer.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind them, I whirl on Zane. "If this is how you think our partnership works, you're dead wrong. One more stunt like this and I'm gone for good."

Zane holds up his hands. "Scots, hear me out. We just?—"

"Fuck your reasoning, Zane. Fuck you both. Fuck you for deciding I'm not ready and I should sit this one out. Fuck you for trying to protect me instead of considering that the only thing I have left of my father is his faith in me and you tossed that to the side like a bag of dog shit. Just fuck you."

My voice echoes in the small hallway, but I don't care. Adrenaline courses through me, mixed with the anger from the fight, the fear of what could've happened, and all my pain and disappointment from the past.

Zane barely flinches. He stands deathly still as the gash running along his arm and the bruises darkening one side of his face start to heal. He meets my glare head-on, his expression stony. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I repeat, incredulous. My hands shake with the urge to hit something, to lash out. "Not good enough. You've spent the past three days trying to convince me to trust that you won't hurt me again and then you pull a stunt like this."

"It wasn't a stunt." Huntley steps in, raising his hands like he's defusing a bomb. "Not everything we do revolves around you, princess. I'm not sure if you're aware, but someone is gunning for the Toronto seat and the king needs to secure things for the entire seethe."

"You don't think I'm aware? Me? The girl who watched those fuckers torture my father while the life drained from his eyes. I don't understand what's at stake?"

Zane lets out a long breath. "He didn't mean that."

"Don't speak for me," Huntley snaps. "Yes, I meant that. She's got her pretty blonde head so far up her own ass, she can't see anything but herself."

"You're supposed to protect him, you arrogant fucknugget! That's literally your job."

"I do protect him. I've been the one at his side day and night while you've been off living your life."

"And still you took him for a night on the town with no backup? I get that you're pissed at me for inheriting your future, but where the fuck is your head? You should've at least had a couple of the royal guard with you."

Huntley's jaw tenses, and I see I've hit a nerve. "Maybe I should have, but it's hard to know who to trust. You never know who might snap your neck when you turn your back."

Okay, I deserve that one . But I'm on a roll and the rage is flowing in hot waves. "Daeva and her men overwhelmed you. They had you dead to rights because you were reckless. If Tucker and I hadn't found you and rescued Zane, who would be left to hold the city together? Because it sure as hell won't be a seethe of entitled turned mutts!"

Zane growls, stepping in between us. "Enough. Take to your corners, both of you. We all know what's at stake and yes, Huntley and I made a miscalculation, but it was my call, Scottie. Not Huntley's."

"It was stupid."

"It was tactically sound. The question is, how did Daeva and her army find us? We didn't know we were going there until we arrived, so either we're bugged, being followed, or we've still got a rat in our midst."

His words hang between us, and the anger fueling me burns off, leaving only questions in its wake.

"Fine, we'll ignore that the two of you are assholes for the moment. Tell me who you spoke to and what you found out."

The house is quiet, the silence that only comes after the chaos of a storm has been unleashed. I could be upstairs resting, spending time with Tucker or Jack… but Zane's words gnaw at me.

How did Daeva and her crew find them at DonorWatch?

I can't shake it. The pieces don't add up.

The security office in this house was obviously set up by my father and it feels comfortable to take his seat. Everything is how he left it. There's even the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the fabric of his chair.

I allow myself to be swallowed by the executive monstrosity and turn my head toward the fabric to breathe deep into the bottom of my lungs. "I miss you, Da."

I allow myself another minute of soaking in the sensation of my father, and then I sit up and move the keyboard into position. To a stranger, this system might seem overwhelming, but I grew up with these tech protocols.

I know how to find exactly what I'm looking for.

Zane mentioned that he and Huntley got into trouble because their driver, Jaxon, was AWOL when they came out of the DonorWatch office. That doesn't sit right. Those who are loyal to their king don't just drive off to get a bubble tea—they stay where they're told to stay and wait while their king has his meetings.

It takes a bit to find the location and access a street view to locate the cameras that I think will have caught the fight. Accessing the feeds of those cameras also takes a bit of effort, but I'm my father's daughter, so I get there.

None of the feeds show the fight—amazingly, all the video from all the cameras glitch out the moment Daeva and her men close in. That makes me wonder what kind of magic mojo those dark angel Watchers possess.

But that's a mystery for another night.

I scroll back to the footage of Zane and Huntley leaving a guy standing at the curb while they walk inside.

With them inside, Jaxon slides back into the driver's seat and pulls his phone out of his pocket. After casually flipping through his phone, he glances around and then makes a call.

The call is brief—barely a minute—and as he speaks, he leans forward to read the street sign and then checks the front of the building and says something more.

Right after he hangs up, Jaxon pulls the car away from the curb and drives off, leaving Zane and Huntley inside, completely exposed.

"Gotcha," I mutter under my breath.

But then I remember Zane mentioning that Jaxon was one of the two men who accompanied him while Francesco had him avoiding the residence. If he was at the condo, and he's a rat, why didn't they come for him?

A cold rush of dread washes over me as I search through Da's security feeds and find the link for the condo where I found Zane.

It's quick to find the recording because Da has it recorded with a time clock. I punch in the date and time I want and then the video flares to life. As I watch, me and Zane leave the suite and then—not ten minutes later—turned vampires storm into the condo.

They stand over Huntley lying on the sofa where Zane put him and my guts churn. Shit. They could have finished him so easily. That would've been my fault. I was angry and careless with his life and though I want to hurt him a dozen different ways, I don't want his death on my hands.

But they don't kill him. They search the rooms, the kitchen, the bedrooms, and when they've realized there's no one there, they make a phone call looking very unhappy.

And then he arrives.

Jaxon steps into the condo looking worried. He throws his hands up in the air and gestures to the hallway that leads to the main bedroom.

"We already left, asshole. Your raiding party was too late."

He speaks with the vampires, the familiarity in his body language unmistakable. He knows them. And even though he looks upset that Zane isn't there, it's obvious he's in no danger from them… because he's working with them.

After another conversation, Jaxon shoos them out and closes the door. Then he takes a seat in one of the kitchen chairs and waits.

I fast-forward to the part where Huntley stirs. He lurches forward, looking groggy, and then Jaxon is playing the part of the innocent bystander.

Traitorous fucker.

The door creaks open behind me, and I whirl around to see Huntley standing there, looking worse for wear. He hesitates in the doorway, his eyes narrowing at my expression.

"Didn't know you were here," he says, his voice cautious. "I'll come back."

"Don't bother. Come see this. I found something."

He steps closer, his brow furrowed as I rewind the footage to when Jaxon walked into the condo. I watch Huntley's face as the realization dawns, his expression shifting from confusion to anger in a matter of seconds.

"Jaxon?" Huntley's voice is low, but there's a dangerous edge to it. "That son of a bitch… he's been working with them all along?"

"He also gave you and Zane up at DonorWatch. He's feeding information to Daeva's crew."

Huntley's jaw clenches, and I can see the fury burning in his eyes. "Why? Jaxon is one of us… Or at least, I thought he was. Why would he betray us like that?"

I laugh. "Because karma's a bitch. You're getting a little taste of what it felt like when you—and Zane—turned on me. So, yeah, forgive me if I'm not exactly crying over your hurt feelings right now."

Huntley swallows, his fists clenching at his sides. "There's no need to dig up the mistakes of the past. You got even when you took my place and left me high and dry."

I stand up, my body practically vibrating with anger. "I got nothing. I didn't do a fucking thing, Huntley. I'll tell you this one last time. My father and I never spoke about you, never had one conversation about squire powers or Zane or anything—he knew better. He knew I wanted no part of either of you, so whatever his reasoning was when he gifted me his magic, it's on you. What did you do that he wouldn't approve of? How did you let him down?"

He glares at me, anger bubbling up inside him, the frustration that's been simmering under the surface for days finally boiling over. "Nothing. I did nothing."

Only there's no conviction in his words.

Or in his expression.

I chuckle. "Wow, that didn't sound even the slightest bit convincing, dude. You really need to work on that poker face of yours."

Huntley's expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he steps closer. "Don't you dare twist this around on me! Somehow, you convinced your father to give you the Sacred Squire powers instead of me. You took what should've been mine! You're a vengeful bitch."

I let out a bitter laugh, my voice trembling with fury. "Are you serious right now? I don't want any of it. If I knew how to do it, I'd take my father's squire magic and shove it right up your ass."

Huntley takes a step back. His expression is hard, but I catch the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"Francesco and Da left us a few messages. There's one for you from my father." I step over to the computer and access the cloud files for him. "Maybe he'll tell you what happened, because I'm done trying. I get it though. It's probably hard for you to recognize the truth when you're such an accomplished fucking liar."

I turn on my heel and storm out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest, attempting to free itself from the cage of my ribs.

Let him watch the video. Maybe Da will tell him why he did what he did, or maybe he won't.

I don't fucking care anymore.