Page 14 of Clash of Sin and Secret

“Zane!” I shout again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

The knot in my stomach tightens as dread settles in like a heavy fog. My feet move before my mind catches up and I bolt toward the Squire’s Suite.

The door is ajar.

That shouldn’t be?—

Zane’s scream slices through the quiet like a knife. There’s no mistaking the sound of a vampire’s grief. No human could replicate such a raw and unfiltered wail.

With my heart hammering behind my ribs, I race into Scottie’s room and find Zane on the floor, clutching Scottie’s naked body to his chest. He’s got her head propped against his shoulder, but the way her arms are hanging out to the side, it’s obvious something is very wrong.

“Zane?” I croak out between clenched teeth. “What happened?”

Zane looks up at me, tears spilling down his cheeks. “She’s dead.”

What? No. She can’t be. I listen but can’t hear her heart beating. I cross the room in a blur, kneel beside them, and press my fingers to her neck.

Nothing. How is that possible?

No. Not like this. Not with her still hating me…

“Fuck that.” I lift her wrist to my mouth and let my fangs drop. Biting her flesh brings back a rush of buried emotions, but I focus on staying in the moment. True-blood vampires can call blood.

I’m exceptional at it—if I do say so myself.

Commanding Scottie’s blood flow, I fill her heart with a rushing wave and then empty it. And again. Her heart valves close as blood rushes in and then out of the heart’s chambers.

Over and over, I call her blood and repeat the process, forcing her heart to beat again. The organ is stubborn at first—no different from the woman—but after a few minutes, the sluggish flow succumbs to my demand.

The whoosh of blood circulating through her veins grows stronger until the rhythmiclub-dub, lub-dubof her life-pumping organ goes solo, and I’m no longer needed.

Retracting my fangs from her porcelain flesh, I fall back onto my ass. My entire body is trembling and I’m pretty sure she just took a decade off my life.

Scottie

The world swirls back into focus with a nauseating spin. The first thing I register is how my squire magic is singing in my veins. The next thing is the possessive hold crushing me. I blink, clearing the haze.

Zane’s face looms over mine, twisted in anguish, tears streaming down his cheeks. It’s ten kinds of wrong to see a man like him broken and it makes my heart ache to know I’m the cause.

“Too tight.” My voice comes out in a whisper, hoarse and shaky.

“You’re awake. Oh, thank fuck.” His relief cracks through the sobs, as he lessens his hold. I manage to suck in a deep breath before he clutches me closer again, in a rib-bruising hug. “Fucking hell, Scotts. I thought I lost you. Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Die! You fucking died on me.”

I did?My mental hamster is having trouble climbing into her wheel, but that doesn’t sound right. Tucker and I were having a marathon love fest and?—

I gasp and sit up. “Tucker?”

“I’m here, beautiful.” Tucker hovers nearby, gloriously naked and somehow still radiating calm amidst the chaos. A wash of embarrassment zips through me as I realize I’m also bare under Zane’s grasp.

I squirm slightly to break free from his hold, but he still won’t let me go.

“Zane.” My voice is firmer now, despite the confusion swirling in my mind. “Let me sit up. I want to know what happened.”

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