Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Scottie

A sharp pain explodes behind my left eye, but I force myself to focus. I refuse to die with my face pinned to a grime-covered alleyway less than five minutes after my father entrusted me with everything he ever believed in.

I twist beneath the man pinning me to the ground. Kicking up with my legs, I try to buck him, but he's strong. He may be a turned vampire and not a born true blood, but even made vamps have heightened strength.

Although, if he carried undiluted blood in his veins, this battle would be even worse.

With a grunt, I get my palms underneath me and tip him off, scrambling to my feet. There's a layer of skin missing from my cheek, but with a battle of fist to flesh all around me, I don't have time to worry about road rash.

The alley is a blur of motion as Jack barrels into another attacker, his fists flying in a brutal dance of survival.

"Scottie, behind you!" Jack's voice is urgent, and I respond.

I spin in time to catch a vampire lunging at me, fangs bared. Instinct takes over and I duck low, sweeping my leg out to knock him off balance. He stumbles, and I capitalize on the moment, delivering a sharp elbow to his jaw.

It's not enough to snap his neck, and I curse the missed opportunity. The easiest way to immobilize a vampire is to break its neck. It doesn't kill them, but it knocks them out of commission for a while.

And when I say the ‘easiest way'—there's nothing easy about it.

My opponent reels back, and while I'm watching his meaty fist as it zooms toward my face with blurring speed, I totally miss his non-dominant hand coming in from the side.

The swipe of a blade slicing through my shirt and the skin over my hip makes me hiss.

Fucking hell.

I curse and follow up with a kick to his midsection. Rage and grief and power surge through my muscles and release like a coiled spring. It's partly me, but largely the enhancements of my new powers taking hold.

The impact of my foot against his torso sends the brute crashing into the rusty, green dumpster headfirst. That will at least have him counting canaries in his vision.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I straighten and scan the alley. Three more vampires, eyes glinting with cold fury, are closing in on Jack. He's holding his own against the one he's already fighting, but four on one?

"That's seriously cowardly, dickheads."

Their attention turns toward me and the moment the scent of my blood hits them, their eyes flip to scarlet.

Not good.

One of them breaks away from attacking Jack and charges. I don't look like much from the viewpoint of an apex predator, but the underestimation of my foes has always worked in my favor.

I brace myself for impact, every muscle coiled and ready.

When the vampire rushes in and reaches for me, I sidestep, grab his arm, and use his momentum to flip him onto his back. He's a heavy fucker and the asphalt cracks beneath the weight of the impact.

He snarls, but I'm already moving, delivering a swift, punishing kick to his jaw. The force spins his head, and the snap of his neck has him going limp.

That will put him down for a bit.

"Scottie, you need to move!" Jack's shout pulls my attention. He's grappling with two vampires now, and despite his skill, his strain is obvious.

A flicker of movement catches my eye. The hot dude from the barbershop—the one getting a shave when I burst in from the tunnels—is behind Jack and holy shit, the guy must be six and a half feet tall.

For a second, I think he might be another attacker, but then he grabs one of the vampires on Jack by the scruff and tosses him across the alley like a rag.

Holy hell, hot dude is strong.

The boom of the bulky vampire thug meeting brick is loud, and when the guy drops to the ground, there's a brute-sized dent in the masonry wall.

The sudden reinforcement shocks Jack's attackers enough to give the guy a moment of respite. He glances over at me, urgency in his eyes. "Go, kid! I'll hold them off."

I don't want to leave him.

The echo of snapping bone has hot dude straightening over a crumpled heap of vampire looking wild and murderous.

"Scottie, now!" Jack's command is a jolt, and I don't hesitate any longer. "Tuck, go with her!"

I turn and run, the man from the barbershop close on my heels. The alley seems to stretch on forever, every step a battle against the urge to go back to ensure Jack is okay.

But I trust him to survive this. He's a pro. He guarded the king for decades and still has moves I haven't seen.

We burst out of the alleyway on York Street and race straight south toward King. The city's noise amps up to a constant buzz, the sidewalks filled with the mass exodus of commuters hemorrhaging out of the office towers.

When there's a break in the people and I've caught my breath a little, I cast a glance up at the man I've inherited.

The guy is obviously not a normal human. No human could chuck a vampire like he was skipping stones at the lake. And the way he moves… he's got enhanced muscles coiled under that athletic frame.

I scan the sightlines for movement and then settle back on him as the closest threat. "Who are you?"

The man wipes blood from the scruff on his chiseled jaw, his eyes sharp as he takes in our surroundings. "My name is Tucker."

A rush of panic hits and I do a gut-check. Jack wouldn't have sent him with me if he didn't trust him, right?

No. He wouldn't.

There's no time for distrust, but with traitors in our midst, it's no time to expand my inner circle, either. We dart down the street, blending into the crowd—as much as a bleeding girl and a giant can blend—and when I glance back, there's no sign of pursuit.

Not yet, anyway.

"Where are we headed?" Tucker's voice is a deep growl and echoes a little in my pounding heart. "The underground. I'll use the PATH to get away."

Tucker and I hustle until we get to King and then jog up the steps to the Exchange Tower. As we join the throng of people leaving the financial district for the night, I glance along the street behind us for any sign that we're being followed.

If they're coming, I don't see them.

The crowd gives me a little anonymity and I slow my mind to piece together a plan. I need to find Zane. We need to secure the diamond dagger. And I need to figure out who that bitch was who killed our fathers so we can rip out her throat and make her an example of what will happen to anyone who comes after the Toronto seat of power.

I gasp as the pain in my chest steals my breath. With a hand against my heart, I fight to keep the agony and grief locked down.

I can't believe she killed Francesco.

I can't believe they're both gone.

My world spins and then I'm staring into the warm caramel gaze of a stranger. He's got his arms around me and has moved us out of the flow of commuters.

I take a deep breath and my head spins. "Wow. You smell like honey-dipped sin."

Wait. Did I just say that out loud?

I give myself an inward shake and blink. "What just happened?"

He lifts his hand from my side and frowns at the blood covering his palm. "You groaned and nearly passed out. If I were a betting man, I'd say it might be related to you being stabbed and bleeding."

I frown at my side and hiss when I probe the gash. "Oh, I forgot about that."

"You forgot you were stabbed?"

"It's more of a slice than a stab. Either way, I don't have time to worry about that right now."

Union Station is where ninety percent of this crowd is going, so I get back into the flow of the commuters and join them on their trek toward the main station.

Once there, I pull out my transit card and hustle to the entrance to the subway platforms. "This is where we part ways, Tucker. Thanks for your help. Good luck."

"Wait, what?" He grabs my wrist as I turn to leave, and I'm zapped by a surge of magical energy. It lights me up from the inside and ignites sparks of light in the dark space between us.

Yikes, that's embarrassing . How long does it take for squire magic to settle? Why had I never thought to ask?

Tucker meets my gaze, his eyes flashing gold before settling back to a warm whisky color. He releases my wrist and raises his palms. "I didn't mean to overstep. It's just that Jack told me to help. You're bleeding and a little disoriented. You can't think you're better off on your own, can you?"

"Absolutely. No offense, but I've got a shitty night ahead of me and the sooner I get started, the better my chances of surviving."

"And those chances would improve if we stuck together."

"Sorry. I'm not looking for a sidekick."

A long growl rumbles through the air, and I glance toward the subway tracks to see where it's coming from. When I glance back, Tucker's chin is down, and his posture is menacing. "I'm nobody's sidekick, blondie."

The hair on my arms stands on end. "Fine. Sorry. Then I'm not interested in hooking up with you. How's that?"

His brow arches and his mouth quirks up at the side. "Strike two. Even under the grief and panic, I can smell your reaction to me. Under different circumstances, you'd definitely be game for hooking up."

Good grief. Somebody save me from hot alpha males. "Thanks for the offer and thanks again for the assist, but I'm good. If you really want to help, please go back and check on Jack. I've already lost two men I love tonight. I don't want Jack to be a third."

Leaving Tucker glaring at me, I tap my pass to the screen of the access turnstile, step through, and jog to the closest platform. It doesn't matter what direction or destination, because I'm just covering my tracks and making sure no one is following me.

I scan the sea of bodies surging around me, searching for anyone looking suspicious or out of place. The subway platform is crowded, the hum of everyday life oblivious to the chaos swallowing me up.

Well, not entirely oblivious—people are staring at me.

Why? What's the big deal?

Have they never seen a girl with her cheek ripped open and blood oozing from the nasty gash through her favorite Matchbox Twenty concert T-shirt?

Right. I'll clean up a bit the first chance I get.

The train rumbles into the station, and I board, slipping into a seat at the end of the car so I can hide the blood and watch the doors.

"King Station, next stop. Stand clear of the doors, please." A moment after the conductor's words echo over the speaker system, the train lurches forward and I allow myself a moment to breathe.

Pulling out my phone, I start to text Jack, but stop and stare at the screen. I debate between my duty to make Zane my only focus and my desire to check on a man I've looked up to and loved my entire life.

With a sigh, I turn off my phone and pull out my SIM card. I can't risk being tracked. Jack has weathered storms like this for decades, and hopefully Tucker will go back and help him. I can't dwell on Jack now.

Be safe, old man. I love you.

My focus needs to be on finding Zane and securing the dagger. And also holding it together when I see him. I'm not twenty-one anymore and he's no longer my best friend.

Still, it'll wreck me to tell him our fathers have both been murdered.

My steak soft taco takes another valiant run at spewing up my throat. I close my eyes and lock my emotions down, willing my fast-food choice to stay where it is.

Right and tight. Locked and loaded.

I'll pull out every tough guy metaphor Da and Jack ever barked at me if it helps me keep it together long enough to survive the night.