Page 90 of King

“No! No! No! No! You’re going to be fine. I just have to get you inside. Joey call Slade.” When Joey didn’t move, she saw tears rolling down his face as he stared at King. “Joey!” A sob escaped her throat as the reality of it hit her hard.

“Silver is deadly to a vampire.” Joey shook his head, his eyes meeting hers. “There is nothing we can do.”

Rage hit Amara like a freight train as she looked over her shoulder. “Bullshit!” she hissed, refusing to accept this reality. There was always something she could do. This was not their end. This was not King’s end. She would not be responsible for someone else’s, especially when it was the man she loved.

Her gaze dropped to King’s belt, to the knife he always carried. Without thinking, she grabbed it, yanking it free. The blade flashed in the dim light as she dragged it across her skin, barely feeling the burn as blood welled up.

“Lift his head.” She ordered Joey.

“Holy shit! You’re blood.” Joey said, hope filling his voice. Joey obeyed, lifting King’s head, and she shoved her bleeding arm against his lips.

"King!" she hissed, pressing harder. "Take my blood."

He didn’t move. Didn’t respond. Genuine fear crept into her bones, but she pushed it back.

“Is this going to work?” Joey’s voice trembled.

Amara gritted her teeth. “It has to.”

King was dying. She could feel it. No! He wasn’t allowed to die.

“Dammit, King,” she growled, shoving her arm harder against his mouth. “For once in your life, listen to me and take my fucking blood. Somebody has to save me, and it better be you.”

A shudder ran through his body. His lips parted. And then, finally, she felt it—the slow, weak pull as he drank. Relief crashed over her so hard she nearly collapsed, but there was no time for that. She could hear footsteps and voices coming closer.

“Yeah, I’m sure I got him. Saw it through the scope.” A man’s voice reached them.

“Get out of here and hide. Call Slade now!” Amara ordered, still watching King as he more strongly took the blood from her arm.

“I’m not leaving you, Amara.” Joey was shaking his head, watching the woods.

“Joey, they want me alive.” Amara hissed, her eyes narrowing. “They don’t know about your blood and will kill you. They have already tried. You are the only one who can tell the Warriors what happened.”

“Don’t you fucking die, Amara,” Joey said before he rushed back into the house with a sob.

She carefully pulled her arm away from King’s mouth, heart pounding as she whispered, “I love you, King. You better fucking live. Do you hear me? Fight.”

His lashes fluttered. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was trying to say. Tears blurred her vision as she wiped the blood from his mouth. She didn’t want them to know she had given him her blood. She wanted them to think he was dead. She grabbed the knife and forced herself to stand.

She could have run and hidden like King had ordered her to, but she knew if she left him here, they might realize he wasn’t dead. She would not let that happen.

She took a slow step forward, her own blood dripping to the dirt, her grip tightening around the hilt of the knife as she slid it under her coat.

The first man stepped through the trees, rifle slung over his shoulder, eyes filled with cold amusement. “Well, look at that,” he sneered, looking at King’s body. “Told you I don’t miss.”

She would sacrifice herself to save King and pray that her blood would be enough for the man she loved. She stood silent, the knife slipped into the waistband of her jeans with her coat covering it. Something she had learned from King. She wouldn’t use the weapon now, but as soon as they were away from King and Joey, all bets were off.

“You’ve been nothing but trouble,” A man said as he grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him. “Come on, blood bitch. I want to get paid.”

“I told you that vampire wasn’t nothing.” The man with the gun laughed, shaking his head. “Warrior, my ass.”

Amara wanted to spit in the man’s face but didn’t. She needed them far away from King. Instead, she tilted her head to look back at King, who was staring straight at her, unmoving. His eyes were black as midnight. He was still alive...for now.

CHAPTER 37

King couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. But he could hear. Every voice, every movement, every human heartbeat around him except one, Amara’s.

His eyes had remained closed since they had taken Amara from him. He had memorized the faces of the motherfuckers who dared lay hands on her. Their images were burned into his mind, their scents locked into his senses. He would find them. He would kill them. He would make them suffer.

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