Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Scottie

J ack's words linger in my mind as I make my way down to the basement, the echoes of his voice still ringing in my ears.

You understand him better than he understands himself. When the darkness takes hold, you need to see it coming. When his beast hungers to tear someone's throat out, you are the one with the power to pull him back.

I roll the meaning of all that over in my mind, pushing back the anger and pain I've surrounded myself with for years. If I'm going to help him and live up to the role my father believed I could fill—I need to forgive him.

That's easier said than done.

The memory of that night so long ago still hollows me out, the blade of the dagger he plunged into my heart still there, keeping it an open wound.

Was he really so far gone that he killed innocent women? How did I miss that? I knew he was anxious and hiding something from me, but I thought it was about my birthday. And then I offered myself to him.

"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."

Would he? I couldn't have imagined him hurting me. I also couldn't have imagined him killing women in the streets. That isn't Zane. Or, at least, not the Zane I thought I knew.

I punch in the security code to gain access to the basement, where Zane has been interrogating the Jaxon for days. I feel his unease before I even step inside, the chaotic restlessness of his heart pounding in my chest.

The hallway is dim, lit by a single light from the end of the hall, casting long shadows over the rough stone walls.

Zane is standing in the shadows, his back to me, his shoulders rigid. His fists are clenched at his sides, and rage radiates off him like heat from a wildfire.

He doesn't notice me at first, too lost in his frustration to realize I've come in. If he keeps pushing like this, he's going to snap. And then we'll lose any chance of getting the information we need.

I clear my throat softly, stepping forward. "Zane."

He turns sharply, his scarlet eyes flashing with that dangerous edge I've seen so often since I've been back. Have I really been so blinded by my pain that I failed to see his?

With everything he's going through—his father's death, his people under attack, my rejection, Jaxon's betrayal—Zane is teetering dangerously close to the edge of his control.

"You need to calm down."

His gaze narrows, and for a moment, I wonder if he's already lost to the battle raging inside him. "This isn't the time for calm, Scots. We need answers, and I'm not getting them. My family are mind fuckers and I can't get through whatever safeguards are keeping his secrets locked away from us."

I gesture toward a small table and two chairs against the far wall. "Come sit. You won't get those secrets like this. You're too wound up."

Zane's jaw tightens, but he doesn't argue. He knows I'm right. I pull the two chairs out and face them toward one another and take a seat. He follows my lead and sits across from me, our knees touching.

"Do you remember the summer when we first started to hide in the tunnels? You were anxious because of your father's training sessions and the pressures being put on you?"

His brow furrows. "I remember."

"You would get so worked up, you could barely sit still." I reach forward and take his hands in mine. "The only thing that would calm you down was when we'd sit together, holding hands, like this. Remember?"

Zane sighs a long, labored breath. "We were kids, Scottie. A lot has happened since then."

"I understand that, but what if we just try? If nothing else, we both could use the reset, don't you think?"

"A reset?"

I nod. "I will work on leaving our past in the past if you swear I can trust you."

"You can ," he says too quickly.

"Zane, I need you to really understand what this is costing me." I swallow against the wave of bile that pushes up the back of my throat. "I was shattered when you pushed me away. You could've told me you were struggling. You could've shared your secrets with me."

He pegs me with a pained expression. "If I could do it over, Scots, I would." I hear the truth in his words and see it there, swimming in his glassy eyes.

"You didn't trust me enough to tell me what you were dealing with and that breaks my heart even now. I thought we had it all and were ready to be more than best friends and partners in crime. I believed in us."

He blinks fast, but the tears well and fall despite his best attempts. "I should've told you—no question. But when I came out on the other side of things and tried to make it right, you wouldn't even see me. You shut me out and refused to let me explain."

I squeeze his hands. "I'm sorry. It wasn't an easy transition for me, leaving everyone I loved behind. Grave decisions were made, and bad shit went down. I suffered because of that and blamed it all on you, too."

He opens his mouth to ask, and I shake my head. "We're not going into it. That's not why I'm here. I'm telling you so you can understand what you did was more than hurt my feelings by turning me away. My identity was so wrapped up in you that when you broke us, I didn't know who I was. I won't allow that to happen again. Not for you or anyone."

Zane pushes back his chair and drops to his knees in front of me. He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt and blinks up at me through his tears. Damn, the agony in those eyes spears me right into my battered soul.

"I understand you're not the same girl, Scots. I see you. You're stronger, tougher, but you're still my girl. Somewhere inside you, my best friend is hiding in the shadows. I need her. Our fathers were murdered, and I don't know how to do this without you. I'm lost and alone and need my compass."

It's crazy. As unsure as I was that I could ever let go of the pain of his rejection, the moment I forgive him, the weight of it stops suffocating me. I'm not over it, but dwelling on the hurt has stolen more from me than I care to admit.

Zane has collapsed forward into my lap and is rambling about hating himself and everything about his life.

I run a gentle hand over the back of his shirt and into his hair. It's just as soft as I remember. "I'm here, Z. It took me a while, but I'm here."

We stay like that for a long time, both of us purging the pain of the past with tears and healing hugs. Then, when our tears dry up, he straightens on his knees, and I ease back from our hug. "If we do this, we're partners. You don't leave me behind. You don't hide things from me. And you don't decide what's best for me. Don't fuck this up, Zane. I mean it."

He eases back, his face blotchy. "I won't. I'll earn it all back, you'll see. I may be a dumbass, but I'm not stupid."

I take a steadying breath and wipe my cheeks. "No, you're not. So, despite what we were and what you want us to be, I need you to realize that Tucker isn't going anywhere. I care about him and he's good for me. If you genuinely love me and want me to be happy, you'll respect that."

He wipes his face on his sleeve again and frowns. "I'll accept it, but I don't like it. The beastly side of me wants you all to myself. It's goes against every instinct I possess to allow another man to get close to you."

I chuckle. "You mean like how you have Huntley on the side?"

He blinks. "What are you talking about?"

I rear back a few inches. "Did we not just establish that there would be no secrets and that I know you better than anyone else on the planet?"

For a moment, he just stares at me, looking panicked. I can't take it. Yes, he's a vampire king and the ruler of the Toronto seat of power, but when he looks at me like this, he's still the boy I've shared my soul with my entire life.

"Zane, breathe. You were fucking two randoms when I walked in on you last week. Why would you think I'd care that you and Huntley are a thing? If anyone understands how small your circle of opportunity is, it's me."

"I can't lose you, Scots," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I know you two have drama, but he and I…"

"Whatever the two of you are to one another, you won't lose me as long as you're honest. I'm your squire and your friend. That's where we are."

"For now."

I roll my eyes. "Don't complicate things by getting ahead of yourself. I'm here. That has to be enough for now."

"And it is," he says, lurching forward to hug me again. "It's everything. Thanks, Scots."

This time, when we ease apart, the tension in the air lifts. The air feels lighter, less charged with the emotions that have simmered between us since my return.

Zane exhales, the sound long and low, and I know he's finding his balance again. When he opens his eyes, they're sharp with focus. "All right. Now we need to figure out what to do with Jaxon to get the information out of him."

"You come from a family of mind fuckers, don't you?"

Zane frowns. "I shouldn't have told you that."

I wave away his regret. "I'm your Sacred Squire. According to Jack, our bond will build until we share thoughts and emotions. I've always known you had mind tricks and I'm sure, as we train together, I'll need to learn all about them."

He exhales. "All right then, squire. What's our next step?"

I tip my head toward the interrogation room. "We take another run at Jaxon. Jack thinks you haven't been able to override the blocks in his mind because your emotions are all twisted up and your beast is volatile. I'm here to settle things down."

Zane gives me a faint nod of acknowledgment and then gestures toward the closed door. "It's worth a shot."

Zane

The air in the interrogation room is sweet with the scent of vampire blood and sour with the tang of fear. Jaxon thought he was smart enough to not get caught. Or, if he did, that he was charming enough to explain his deception away.

He's neither.

And yes, I've been stymied by the blocks in his mind, and he's been enthralled or spelled so he can't tell me anything, but with my familial gifts, that shouldn't stop me.

Jack's explanation for my failure is a balm to my injured pride. I was so tangled up inside over the events of the past week and the chasm gaping between Scottie and me that my my focus was shit.

Now that a huge part of that conflict is sorted out, we'll get it done. My darkest impulses have been soothed. The pain of Scottie's rejection has been released.

I'm no longer distracted. Not anymore.

Scottie pulled me back from the edge, her embrace holding me together, her forgiveness lifting the crushing pressure off me.

Huntley is standing near the corner, his arms crossed, his eyes dark with frustration. We've been at this for hours, trying to get information out of him without him passing out.

"All right, let's end this, shall we?"

Huntley pushes off the wall, looking worried. "A dead Jaxon tells us nothing, Z."

"I don't plan on killing him until we have what we need." I step closer, my boots shuffling against the concrete floor. "You've wasted enough of our time, traitor. I'm done."

Jaxon's jaw tightens. Despite his fear reeking up the air, he doesn't speak.

"What I don't understand is how the vampire in charge coerced you to go against your family. Benoit, I can sort of understand. He was a transplant from Montreal. But you were born into Clan Vasari."

I lean in, my fangs barely peeking out as I let my power rise to the fore. "You think this usurper vampire is worth dying for?"

His lips tremble, but he stays silent, his gaze dropping to the floor.

I crouch in front of him, so close he can't avoid me, can't look anywhere else. "Who is he, Jaxon? Who is in charge? Where are they gathering? What do you know?"

With my questions firing, I slip into his mind, coming up against the first of the blocks placed to keep me out. It's not a simple task, but as I continue to bombard him with pointed questions, his memory flares and I continue to slice through the obstacles.

I'm doing long-term damage to his synapses, but ‘long-term' isn't something he needs to worry about. Cutting through the magical warding isn't subtle or gentle. It's barbaric, but we're past the point of ethical means.

"Hold him still."

He stiffens at my command, his eyes widening as I gouge my way through his memories. They're a mess, swirling with fear, confusion, and twisted loyalty. Still, through the chaos, I see him—the vampire behind all this.

Lazarus Kaza.

The name hits me like a bullet to the chest, and I push deeper, forcing the image of him to come into focus.

Lazarus is tall, imposing, with a presence that makes the air in the room heavier just by him standing in it. His blue eyes are sharp, piercing, like he sees right through you. And his suit—tailored, flawless—makes him look like he's always in control, always one step ahead. There's an aura of danger around him, the kind that makes everyone else wary, makes them second-guess their decisions.

I feel the admiration in Jaxon's mind—but also the fear, the genuine fear of what will happen if he betrays Lazarus.

That won't be a problem.

I dig around a little longer, replay a few grandstanding moments of Lazarus making promises to Daeva and the army. See a few familiar faces as Jaxon, Benoit, and three other men from my compound discuss the infiltration.

More traitors to be taken out.

And when I'm sure I have what I need, I retreat from Jaxon's mind, pulling out so fast he gasps. As he sags forward, I meet Huntley's gaze. "He's of no more use to us. I have what we need."

Turning my back while Huntley executes the man we thought to be a friend, I hold out a hand to Scottie.

She takes it without hesitation and squeezes my fingers. The balm of touching her means more to me than she could ever understand. "We have a name?"

"We do. Lazarus Kaza. I didn't see where they are holed up, but we have three more men we can ask.

I let out a slow breath, my anger cooling into something colder, more controlled. "We're done being reactive and caught on our back foot. We have what we need to be proactive now. Lazarus Kaza is polluting our city and now that we know who he is, we won't stop until we find him—together."

My blood is still thrumming with the high from the interrogation, from the victory of finally having Scottie at my side, and from the discovery of who our enemy is. Our fathers will be avenged. The Vasari clan will exact our retribution.

Lazarus Kaza has no idea what's coming for him.