Page 1 of Clash of Sin and Secret

CHAPTER ONE

Scottie

Blood stains no longer cover the golden walls of the hub, but I still see them. Not because my senses have heightened after receiving my father’s Sacred Squire powers—although every color is more vibrant, every smell more distinct, and every sound sharper.

No, the dark images I see in my mind’s eye were seared into my memory during my ill-fated return to the Vasari vampire compound a few weeks ago.

A return to the only home I’ve ever known.

The invasion of the Vasari vampire compound left dozens dead, two of the finest and most well-respected men in the world of the Fondatori Kings senselessly taken, and Zane and I without our fathers.

As the clan fills into the open space, I stare at the ancient artwork and sculptures instead of making eye contact. There is a lot of hostility toward me right now.

Some are angry that I left for years and abandoned this family.

Some are angry that a human was loved as a daughter by their king.

Some are angry that I’ve been chosen to succeed my father as the protector of the vampire king.

I had nothing to do with that. In fact, if I had been consulted, I would’ve flat-out refused. But Iwasn’tconsulted and here we are.

My chest tightens at the sight of so many vampires filling the massive circular space. The usual boisterous energy of the gathering place is replaced by hushed whispers and quiet sobs.

Standing in one of the sculpture nooks, near one of the six archways leading deeper into the compound, my fingers trace the intricate carvings in the marble. The familiar patterns offer no comfort today.

“So sorry for your loss, Scotland.”

“Thank you, Dante.” I dip my chin toward the ancient warrior as he passes. He came over to the new world with Francesco and was one of his oldest friends.

“Condolences, Scottie.”

“Thank you, Link.” I offer him a sad smile. He refers to himself as B-cubed: big, black, bald, and beautiful. He is all those things.

They are two of Francesco’s royal guards and are taking the losses as hard as Zane and me. Their entire purpose in this compound was to safeguard the King of Toronto.

They failed.

And because my father’s life force was bound to the king he protected, when Francesco died, so did he.

My father’s absence has left me gutted and with a gaping hole in my heart that aches night and day.

I don’t know how I’ll go on without him.

Zane climbs the small stage set up in the center of the hub, his broad shoulders rigid under his tailored black suit. Backstraight, chin lifted, and wearing the black diamond signet ring of the Toronto Fondatori King, he looks out at his clan.

“My brothers and sisters.” His voice carries through the hundred-foot space, bouncing off the domed ceiling. “Today we honor those taken from us.”

I swallow against the thickness in my throat.Not all who were taken.

We should be honoring Francesco and my father, too. Another thing Daeva and her fucking army of turned mutts stole from us. But the two leaders of this clan can’t be laid to rest—not while Francesco’s head remains the sick trophy of the bastard behind all this.

“The attack on our home was an act of war from a cowardly foe.” Zane’s words crack like a whip. “Whoever Lazarus Kaza is—whether or not that’s his real name—him sending Daeva and her army to seize control of our territory was a mistake. A mistake we will make him regret.”

Murmurs of approval ripple through the crowd.

The pain in this room is a living thing.

“I give you my word.” Zane’s emerald gaze sweeps the gathering, and for a moment they lock with mine. The muscle in his jaw twitches, the raw anguish he feels leaking through the squire bond we now share. “We will find every last bastard responsible for this atrocity. We will find them, and we will end them.”

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