22. Wade

22

WADE

T he afternoon bled into evening, as the entire community came together to lay rest to Evelyn and Bishop.

I couldn't even look at Charlie without choking up.

He was alive and well this morning—excited, even for his first mission in ages.

And now he was gone, leaving his wife and unborn child behind without him.

The world had never felt so cruel.

Worse, it had all been for fucking nothing.

Three missions, two deaths, and not a single fucking clue as to where the stone was.

Instead, all we had were a bunch of dead ends, some extra vampires to deal with, and Darius lost to his own darkness.

Max spent most of the evening trying her damndest to be helpful, serving everyone food, watching the kids, preparing rooms for Claude, Nika, and Nash. When she wasn't running from chore to chore, trying to keep busy, she was sidled next to Eli, me, Atlas—a soothing presence as we all processed the gaping, constraining feeling of loss .

Now that we'd all retired back to the cabin though, she hadn't left Darius's room. He'd woken, briefly, but Claude had been there at the time. He snapped his brother's neck again before he could fully rouse, with the same nonchalance one might crack an egg.

"You should rest." I leaned against the door frame, watching her.

"I will." Her hand was twined with Darius's. She looked back at me over her shoulder, forcing a small smile across her face. The sight of it was like a blade to the gut—so much fear, so much pain braided into her features. "You should too. It's been a difficult day."

I was exhausted, but I couldn't bring my body to leave her right now, not like this.

I stepped into the fanghole's room and closed the door behind me. I'd wait up with her a bit, until she was ready to sleep.

Plus, if I was being honest, I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts right now. Didn't want to see Bishop's death playing on repeat in my mind.

"He'll be okay." I drew her to my side and pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. My throat tightened when she stifled a sob. "We'll figure out how to get him back."

"He's always been terrified of this," her face pressed into me, and I could feel my shirt soaking with the tears she was trying to hide, "of the darkness pulling him under. He tried to hide it, and I should have—" her breath hitched, "I thought it would be better to give him space, but I was wrong. And now I don't know how to reach him."

"I know—" I paused, latching onto that word—darkness. She was right. Darius had been off for weeks. At the time, I'd assumed it had been the state of things generally, the chaos and planning of prepping for this mission. But what if this was the darkness Serae had referenced? What if it really hadn't been about Atlas, but Darius?

I pulled back a few inches, cupped Max's face in my hands as I wiped a few stray tears away with my thumb. "What if we can?"

Her dark eyes glistened, narrowing in confusion.

"What if we can reach him?"

For the first time since we'd gotten back, I felt the embers of hope ignite. I'd all but forgotten that dream-walk with my aunt, especially considering I'd woken up from it to find Max nearly drowning. Not wasting a breath, I relayed my dream with Serae, the details coming back with some clarity the more I focused on remembering.

Max and I had a power that no one else in our bond group had—we could siphon and feed off emotions. Lust was only one of them, the easiest for us to access. But it was only an entry point, a catalyst for tapping into our prey's lifeforce.

If my aunt was right about our strengths, then there was a possibility that we could feed off the darkness consuming Darius, or at least distribute its hold evenly across us all, until it was no longer debilitating with its weight.

Once the plan was set, the hardest part was falling asleep. Both of us were wired as we lay there together, smashed into Darius's bed, just waiting for the adrenaline of having a plan to drain into exhaustion. But in the way that sleep always seemed to eventually work, I slid from awake and anxious to dreaming the exact moment I stopped fighting it.

Neither of us spared much energy on crafting a particularly glamorous dreamscape. Just a room, dark and earthy.

The moment Darius stepped foot into the space, he sprang at me like a bullet, crashing us both to the ground with a calamity of grunts and groans.

His fangs pierced my neck, and I was surprised by the fact that it didn't hurt as he pulled a mouthful of blood. It almost felt—good. For the first time, I could feel what Max felt when he fed on her, a blissful sort of power and control.

Before my own whims grew too pliant here, I ripped my head away from him and pinned him to the ground, a feral writhing mess as he tried to fight me.

I slammed his head to the ground, earning a fresh snarl. "I'm stronger than you here, you fuck."

The fanghole didn't respond, just continued thrashing about, trying like hell to attack as I held him down.

Cuffs appeared around his wrists, attached to heavy, metal links. The soft clink and strain echoed through the room as his arms pulled taut above his head, until he started to rise above me.

Max had fashioned restraints and she used her magic to thread them through the ceiling, until Darius stood, his toes dangling over the edge of the wooden floor, fighting to find purchase.

She grinned a wicked grin, her eyes hard as she strode closer to him, eyebrow arched. "Familiar position, no?"

I wasn't sure what she was referring to, but a flash of recognition broke through Darius's vicious growl as she prowled around him.

Good. This was working.

I brought out the fanghole's worst, and she, his best. Together we stood a chance of cracking him, siphoning out the darkness gripping him.

She traced a finger over the long smooth expanse of his chest, his muscles stretched to the edge of pain.

He gasped at her touch, the crash of chains providing a dark soundtrack to the scene.

The fanghole's stare met mine, briefly, annoyance and aggression etched across his face.

I crafted a sturdy black chair for myself, planting it a few feet in front of him, then sat down to watch whatever show she had planned, waiting until she required me.

The featherlight touches along his torso turned sharp and antagonizing. Her nails drew blood, and she met his stare with a taunt.

"You took," her voice was stern, filled with a thick control that was woven with lust, "without asking."

She traced her tongue over the cuts, and Darius's breathing shifted suddenly from aggressive to, well, still aggressive, but turned the fuck on.

And fuck if I wasn't too.

"Is this what you want?" Max tilted her neck to the side, watching Darius with sultry eyes that had my dick straining against my pants. A dark grin hooked the curves of her lips as she took a step back from him. "Too bad."

A dagger appeared in her hand and she sliced into her palm.

Darius watched the blood pool there, until it began dripping through her fingers.

Without a word she smeared it over his face, then walked away from him, not turning to look at me until she reached my chair.

Darius thrashed feverishly where he hung, his erection the only indication that it was more than rage coursing through his brain.

This would work, she knew how to tease and read him, to draw out every?—

I closed my eyes and hissed as her hand slid down my pants.

Without me even feeling it, she'd transitioned the chair into a long chaise lounge, and pushed me back on it as she worked her hands over my cock, her fingers tracing the veins and rim of the head like it was a musical instrument only she knew how to tune .

When I opened my eyes again, I was naked below her, and she was wearing a lacy bra and crotchless panties, held up by a garter. The shade was red, but so dark the lace shifted to black in some places, like the deepest pools of blood.

The vampire thrashed harder against his restraints as Max lowered her lips to my dick, her dark eyes darting between the two of us as she took me into her mouth.

I bucked against her as the bolt that held his chains strained against his fury. If this world, and everything in it, weren't crafted through us, I had no doubt that he'd have ripped holes through the ceiling by now.

As it was, Max controlled it all.

I gladly relinquished all of my control to her.

She crawled over me, her eyes light with power, putting on a show for us both—and damn if I wasn't grateful for my front row seat.

Her fingers wrapped around my throat, pulling me to a seated position as she sank down on me, tugging the back of my hair so that my neck was exposed to her.

My eyes met hers, the question clear, and I groaned in response, a new, unfamiliar need surging through me.

Yes. Yes. Whatever the fuck you want.

She bared her teeth and I saw fangs, white and sharp, and then she buried them in my neck, drawing blood as she rode me, the pace both too slow and then too fast as she edged me.

Lights blurred my vision as I filled her, until all that was left was the ecstasy of being consumed by her.

Darius's rage echoed around the room as he watched us.

When she pulled back, my blood dripped down her chin, painting her with my lust. She pressed her lips to mine, and as my tongue tangled with hers, I felt fangs of my own descend.

I bit her lip, licking away the blood as she gasped, tightening around my dick.

Neither of us were vampires, and I didn't have any interest in drinking blood in the waking world—but here, we became whatever the fuck we wanted. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of her blood pooling on my tongue.

So I took it.

Darius let out a growl that sounded more wolf than vampire as I sank my teeth into the side of her neck.

She tasted decadent and deep, like the richest dark chocolate, a sumptuous dessert.

One mouthful and I was intoxicated.

She clenched around me as I spun her around so that her back was on the chaise and I was above her.

I drove my dick into her, harder—faster, as I drank my fill.

Her nails, longer and sharper than they were in waking life, clawed into my back as she chased her orgasm. Her screams echoed around the walls, amplifying with each pump as she reached the edge and I poured into her, both of us falling over it.

Stars swam through my vision as pleasure rolled through us. We had a habit of feeding on each other's powers in these dreams, making every touch electric, every breath fire.

After a few breathless moments, both of us in a boneless tangle, Darius's loud clanging broke through my reverie.

The fucker was even more pissed now.

Good.

I shot him a smug smirk as Max climbed off of me and sauntered over to him, her neck and chest dripping with her blood.

The vamp eyed her, unblinking, the desperation of his hunger and desire hitting me like a molten wave.

"Fuck." I bit my lip, trying to reign my own desire in.

But that was the thing about these dreams, about Max. I got off just watching her too, even if I wasn't the focus of her attention .

In a slow, languid tug, she released some of the tension in Darius's restraints, until his feet met the cold floor, his arms hanging only loosely above him now.

He leaned forward, his body inching toward her, fangs extended as he licked his lips.

Power from the two of them bolted through me as she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"You want to play nice, now?" She asked, voice coy.

He didn't blink, didn't look away—but I heard the low growl building in his chest, a predator desperate for his prey.

I knew what he wanted, could feel it in my body as if the desires were my own.

To chase.

To fuck.

To taste.

Her.

He wanted her, nothing more, wanted to consume her completely until there was nothing left.

There was lust, obviously, and beneath that, love and obsession. Those things were always there, for all of us, when Max was around.

But there was anger too, pain—woven tightly through the darkness riding at the surface.

With a simple snap of her fingers, the cuffs released him.

He didn't move at first, just let his arms drop to his sides as he stared her down.

If this weren't a dream, I'd be between them in an instant.

But she was stronger than he was here. Her control of the situation, her desire, increased as he watched her, flooding her with a renewed sense of need.

He stalked forward, one step, then another, until his chest brushed against her.

It was a tenuous game of control that Max was weaving here—taking it, then sharing it. Dominating him, then letting him dominate. I could feel the cracks it created through his shield, could sense the fanghole I knew and loathed beneath the surface, fighting for breath.

She struck first, baiting him as she tore off at a run.

He went after her, growling in frustration when she disappeared from his grasp, only to be standing where she'd just started.

This time, when he ran, she didn't move. She stayed there, smug, excited, filled with an anticipation that had my own dick hardening again.

She pounced on him before he reached her, and then they went down, the two of them a pile of limbs, teeth, and lust as they fought for control, for dominance.

In one smooth shift, he pressed her back into the ground, his arm around her throat as he sank into her—dick and teeth.

Their fucking was rough, feral, filled with equal parts fear and need—the anger I'd sensed before louder now, until it was the only thing I felt, like it was ballooning in his chest.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, twisting until she was on top, controlling the devastating pace he'd tried to set—pushing him harder, faster, as her teeth pierced his neck.

Her claws raked down his back as they took their fill of each other.

"Darius," she moaned, her lips tracing up to his, where they clashed together, each stealing the other's breath as their movements turned more fluid, more tender.

"Don't." His voice cracked, half whisper, half beg, and the shadow magic gripping him flooded through our bonds. "Max."

The wave of energy was heavy and angry, clutching my chest with pure force until all I saw was red, all that I felt was rage.

I choked on it, losing myself in its embrace as I tried to carry the weight of it. But it was crushing, suffocating.

He'd held this for years ?

All of it? On his own?

My eyes swam, but when I turned back to Max, she seemed only strengthened by the power, like it called to her—shaping and sharpening, molding within her as she softened the edges of the magic's need to take.

She pulled it from him, then pulled it from me, slowly at first, and then all at once—until my lungs remembered how to fill with air again.

Her eyes were luminous, glowing briefly, as she siphoned it through her, settling and sculpting it.

There was a flash of light, like lightning through the room, the floor rumbled and shifted for a moment, then everything went still.

"Don't." Darius clutched Max, his face pressed into her neck as he held her in his arms, shaking quietly. "Please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm?—"

"Shh," she pressed her lips to his head and held him to her, legs wrapped around his back as the two of them rocked. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"Please, you have to promise," he whispered, his body racked with sobs now, clutching at her like she couldn't get close enough, no matter how tightly they held onto each other. "You can't leave me."

She stilled at his words, her eyes searching, until they met mine. Power still radiated from her, but the glow was diluted with tears now.

"I can't lose you."