Page 67 of Clash of Sin and Secret

“If they get in a car, they’re going to get away.”

Zane frowns. “But if we take them on now, the entire army could rush out of that building and we’ll be fucked.”

“So, we’re just going to let her get away?”

The idea makes me sick. My stomach literally churns as bile burns up the back of my throat. I don’t even realize I’m leaning forward until Zane tightens his grip around me. “Kaza’s army is the biggest immediate threat. We play it smart, wipe them off the playing field, and then we move on to Daeva and Lazarus.”

It takes everything in me not to pull away from Zane and go after the bitch myself, but I know he’s right. If Da were here, he’d say,‘Pick yer battles, lass. How do ye eat an elephant?’

“One bite at a time.”

I hate that he’s right, but as the brake lights of Daeva’s car pull off into the distance, I let it go. “Fine. We take out the nest and take their numbers down. Then we go after Daeva and her maker.”

Zane gives me a hug and kisses my cheek. “We won’t stop until they’re all dead, Scots. I swear to you, we’ll avenge them.”

I swipe the traitorous tears that escaped onto my cheek and draw a deep breath. “You bet your perfect dimpled ass we will.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Zane

We stride into the compound an hour later, riding a wave of victory. The energy of my people reclaiming the power that was stolen from them radiates through the air. We are weary, and many of us are injured and bleeding, but we are triumphant.

Fifty Vasari clan members pour into the hub, the noise of the overlapping voices filling the vast space and echoing off the golden walls. Spirits are high—as they should be—and as our fighters are welcomed by those who didn’t attend, the gory stories of the annihilation of the vampire nest flow.

Scottie is at my side, her hair disheveled and bloody, her gaze alight with the same bloodlust as the rest of us.

She has never looked more beautiful.

Tucker stands on her other side, a possessive hand splayed at the small of her back. Sharing Scottie’s affections with the man is grating, but there’s no discounting his value in our relationship.

The man is a brute and fights like a beast.

Huntley, my ever-present right hand, stands tall, his clothes stained black with blood, his sharp, Norse bone structure making him look every bit like the warrior he was born to be.

“Speech!” Andros calls out, raising a bloody fist into the air.

The crowd breaks out in a chant of ‘speech,’ and I hold up my hands and relent. “Tonight was a victory my father would’ve been proud of. We took our fury at being invaded in our own home and shoved it right back down their throats. Tonight, we showed our enemies we will not be intimidated, and we will not back down.”

Cheers erupt, and my people raise their fists.

Pride swells in my chest. “When we found them, you all answered my call to action. We surrounded that building, and with a synchronized effort, took down over sixty turned vampires inside.”

“Fucking right, we did!” someone shouts.

Not all the mutts we found were fledgling turns. That is concerning. It makes me wonder how long Lazarus has been planning this. How far does his reach extend?

That’s tomorrow’s problem—tonight we celebrate.

“And while I’m so incredibly proud of our accomplishment, there is more to be done. We still need to find my father’s head, and we still need to end Daeva and Lazarus.”

“But we will,” Scottie says beside me.

“We absolutely will.” I glance around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of my people. We are battered, injured, and a little worse for wear, but determination burns within them. “I’m so fucking proud to be your king. Know that I won’t rest until our enemies are dead and?—”

Huntley grabs my wrist and twists me toward him as he collapses beside me. I get my arms around him before his head hits the marble, but his eyes roll back and his body goes limp.

Scottie kneels with me, both of us pulling at Huntley’s clothing, searching for the source of the issue. Our hands are slick and stained scarlet, the fabric suctioning to his skin. “It’s like he went swimming in a vat of blood.”

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