Page 12 of Midnight Queen

“Incredibly dashing vampires,” Lorcan throws out casually.

Rory’s jaw drops, head shaking. “There’s no such thing. They’re not real.”

“I do wish for your sake you could have gone the rest of your life thinking that, Rory,” I sympathize. “This is a dangerous world and it’s much safer for you if you’re able to maintain your distance from it all. Dragging you into this is wrong.”

She springs from her chair and teeters on her high heels as she rushes toward the exit on the other side of the room. “Then don’t drag me into it. Just let me leave!” she begs.

I shift in front of her, blocking her escape before she can so much as get five feet away from the table. Rory gasps, hand coming up to cover her mouth to muffle the sound. She turns on her heels and darts around me. She makes it to the other doorway that Lorcan stands in front of.

Being the degenerate he is, he grins at her, fangs fully on display. “Where are you running off to so soon?”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, frightened, before dashing around the room. Only when she has the six-foot-long wooden table between us does she stop. Like a caged animal, she frantically searches for a way out of the room, but between Lor and me, she’s been cornered.

Not feeling too inclined to chase her around a table, I stand on the opposite end and wait, stone faced, for her to make her next move.

“Please let me go. I won’t say anything to anyone, but please don’t keep me here.”

Not that long ago, Quincey said almost the exact same words to me. At the time, I had selfish reasons for keeping her with me. And now, knowing how it would end, I would do it all over again.

I was unable to grant Quincey’s wish to be let go then, and it’s the same for Rory now. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.Yet.” I emphasize the last word. “When I have Quincey back, I will let you walk away. I’ll give you the money for a plane ticket to wherever you want to go, and I will give you whatever money you need to start your new life. You’ll never be contacted by us again, but I can’t let you leave yet. Not when she’s out there and you have the ability to help her.”

Rory holds her ground, shaking her head. “No, find someone else. I want to leave right now. I don’t evenknowQuincey. What happens to her doesn’t affect me.”

The room falls eerily quiet. The only sound coming from Rory’s erratic heartbeat. Keeping my face composed, I turn the phone I’ve been carrying over in my hand. I wait for the live feed to connect, my heart sinking when Quincey’s suspended body comes into view. Teeth clenched, I turn the phone and show Rory. “This is what’s happening to her as we speak. Gideon has plans for her and if you don’t find out where he’s streaming this video from, he’s going to kill her.” Rory’s face blanches further. “And then I’m going to killeveryone.”

I’ve already watched a wife die and the rampage I went on was devastating for many, but if I’m forced to watch it happen to Quincey, the damage I’ll inflict will be catastrophic. My only hope is that someone is there to stop me in time. When a black heart like mine is shattered, no one is safe from the deadly shrapnel.

“Please,” she begs, sounding too young to be in this situation. “Find someone else. I can’t do this and it’s unfair of you to ask me to—especially now that I know you’re—” Rory chokes on the word as she nervously glances in the direction of Lorcan. I don’t bother following her stare, but whatever she sees causes her to take another step back.

“I apologize because there seems to be some miscommunication between us right now. Do you really think I became the man I am today byaskingfor things?Askingis a common courtesy that I’ve never felt inclined to participate in. I’ve been as accommodating with you as I can thus far, Rory. Believe it or not, this is me being patient, but if you think I won’t chain you to a computer until you start doing your fucking job, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t—” she starts, but I’m just as quick to cut her off.

“He’s going to drain her of her blood and then he’s going to auction it away like it’s a cattle auction. All while doing this, he’s going to film it so those with animosity toward me can join in on thefunof watching her die. She doesn’t deserve any of this.”It’s all my fault.

Rory watches the screen I still hold up, her frightened face falling the longer she stares at Quincey’s battered, exposed body. “Gideon did this? He’s like you?” she questions, her voice shaky.

“Yes,” I confirm. “And now he’s attempting to get even with me by hurting those around me.”

“Then he’s the one who hurt Duke?” she summarizes.

I nod. “My assumption is I was the intended target of the explosion, but Duke was in the car with me when we were trying to get back to the estate to stop all of this.”

“Does Duke know what you are?” Her chin lifts, hazel eyes locking with mine. “Does he know you’re a vampire?”

“Of course, he’s my right hand. I trust him with this information, and I trust him to have my back in every situation.” If he were here right now, he’d be by my side, leading the charge to find Quincey.

“And he trusts you,” she whispers, mostly to herself.

I don’t reply, not wanting to speak on Duke’s behalf. Duke’s been with me through enough things that I’d like to think he trusts me, but then again, can someone ever fully trust someone like me? Trusting me is like trusting an unstable explosive. Quincey put her trust in me, and she’s currently paying the price for it.

Squaring her shoulders like she’s preparing to go to battle. “Fine. Where are my computers? I’ll need you to send me everything you have. Every link that’s been sent. I’ll work as fast as I can to find where he’s streaming the video from. But once I have an address, I’m getting the fuck out of here. This is the last thing I will do for you, after that, I’m done. I quit,” she declares, while glancing between us vampires. “And if either of you so much as gets within five feet of me, I will shove a number two pencil in your heart and then your neck.”

Lorcan chuckles. “Are you going to bathe in holy water too? Sorry darling, wooden stakes don’t—”

I cut him off by raising my hand. If the idea that stabbing us with a wooden stake gives her peace of mind, fine. I’ll send someone out to get her a real stake instead of a flimsy writing utensil. I will walk into a church for the first time since I was a young man in France and collect holy water for her myself. I don’t care what I must do to ensure she does what I need from her.

“Your equipment is in the den.” I gesture to the French doors that can be seen through the dining room doorway.

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