Page 102 of Midnight Coven

It made his head hurt to even think about it.

He could barely unravel all the threads of the crazy between the two of them. Even now, some of the things he remembered felt unreal to him; he wasn’t sure if they belonged to him or to the other Nick. The clearest memories, though… the memories of Wynter and his mom and growing up in San Francisco… those all felt like him.

Those belonged to him.

“You’re lying to yourself,” the other Nick hissed.

Nick blinked shaking his head.

No. No, he wasn’t.

Still, the other’s words brought back that denser fear. Could he really risk this piece of shit getting free again? Murdering more of his friends? Trying to stealing his life?

Could he risk him hurting Wynter?

Nick couldn’t imagine anything worse than letting this piece of vampire garbage get his hands on his wife. Even apart from what he might do to her sexually, Nick had his doubts this crazy piece of shit would take it well if Wynter tried to leave him.

Truthfully, Nick couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving her alone on a world where this thing had control over her.

If Nick let him go, wasn’t there still some small chance that could happen?

What was the right thing?

Should he really just kill the doppelganger?

After what this fucker said about Wynter, the idea definitely appealed to the more protective part of him. He could live without all the answers. He could find those answers some other way. Whoever this asshole was, he was clearly too dangerous to leave alive.

Nick should kill him.

Finish the job with the spear. Cut his vampire heart out of his chest.

He could decapitate him after.

He could set him on fire.

Just to be sure.

Hell, Nick didn’t even need the spear. He could use his own fangs to rip out his throat.

Maybe he should.

Maybe he should do it now.

Some part of him strained for the sound of Morley’s feet on the stairs, for the sound of a car engine. So far, he’d only heard the human detective open another door, presumably to reach the corridor or maybe another set of stairs.

As he listened, he studied the scarlet eyes of the other vamp from a few inches away.

If Nick used his fangs to rip out enough, it would be the same as cutting off his head. The spear might be cleaner, but removing the head was more permanent.

Still, somehow, he hesitated.

He didn’t even know why, exactly.

It had been a long time since Nick had killed another vampire in anything but self-defense. Even then, apart from that time he’d been drugged up in the underground vampire ring, Nick hadn’t done it very often.

Not since the wars, not even while working as a Midnight.

Still, he didn’t like any of his other options.

---