Chapter Twenty-Eight
Seb stepped up to the doors. “Elias isn’t here!” he yelled. “But he didn’t do it—”
“Coward!” Lorenzo shrilled. “Sending minions to do your dirty work. Come out and take your punishment like a male of worth.”
“Lorenzo!” Seb yelled again. “It’s Rikare. I’m investigating the murders. It’s not Elias, nor a henchman of his. I have the youngling here who did the deed, and he is not of the Alliance or of the Northwest vampires. He belongs to a new threat, a male called the Shadow Lord.”
A short silence. I began to hope. If Lorenzo really wanted a fight, he’d have misted in first and asked questions later.
Sure enough, he shouted, a little less gruff, “Do you have proof?”
“Yes! Did you see the evidence in the final murder?”
“I did. It is how I know this was Elias. The deliberate draining, the pamphlets—”
“And the fang holes were only partially healed. More—they are uneven. The bite is obviously from a youngling.”
“So? There are dozens of fledglings. Hundreds.”
“And until they are several years old, their bites are unique. We can match our suspect’s bite to the mold from the last murder victim.”
Another pause. Then, “Show me.”
Seb grimaced. “Showtime.”
Blackthorne brought Owun downstairs. Seb called, “Lorenzo! We’re bringing the proof out. Stand down.”
“I’ll stand by!” the other shouted. “But your proof better be good.”
“I’m going to punch out the lock. Nikos.” Seb twisted to nail Nikos with his stoniest glare. “As next oldest, if anything goes wrong, I’m charging you with getting Brie out of here safely.”
“Brie can get herself out safely.” I planted my fists on my hips.
“Sweetheart, please.” He took my chin in his fingers. “I lost you once. I couldn’t bear to lose you again.”
My objections melted.
Nikos nodded, the taciturn male’s equivalent of solemnly swearing, and Seb cocked his fist back. One punch took out the entire mechanism.
Aiden and Seb marched Owun outside.
I edged into the doorway behind them. Spread out on the lawn were three dozen of the hardest, most disciplined-looking vampires I’d ever seen.
And they all wore what looked like bazookas on their backs.
Standing at their head, hands folded behind his back, was a big, dark-haired male, his brown eyes riveted to Seb and Owun.
Lorenzo.
Stomach churning, I switched to watching Seb, who was trying to get Owun to make fangs. He slapped the vampire’s face.
Owun growled and started to snarl…then slowly his lips closed as a shrewd light entered the youngster’s eye. His gaze switched to Lorenzo…and he laughed. Teeth utterly normal.
He knew what we were up to.
Seb slapped him again. The laugh abruptly cut. Seb growled, “You think you’ve won? You haven’t. Not even close.” He slapped him again. “Maybe I’ll take you out of these cuffs and make you fight. Let’s see you keep from fanging up, then.”
Owun’s smug smile returned, but with an overtone of cautiousness.
“Let me.” Aiden Blackthorne’s face changed, his cheekbones extending and sharpening to rigid corners, his skin thickening and flattening like metal plates. Fangs descended and his eyes fired blood red. In less than a breath, his face was like something out of a monster movie.
He shoved that terrifying visage in Owun’s face and roared. The younger vampire flinched, falling back a couple steps.
Still no fangs.
Then both of them yelled at him, Seb growing knife-like talons in threat.
No fangs.
With each failure, the brown gaze of the New York leader got a little narrower. A little redder. Obviously getting fed up. When a low growl cut the air, coming from Lorenzo, and his fangs pushed between his lips, I cast a glance at the ground around me.
Human blood would get Owun to fang up, a siren call to most vampires. With only two humans here, and Sera clinging to her husband, it was up to me.
If I could find a damned knife, that was.
Lorenzo’s nostrils began to steam like an angry bull. My nerves wound tighter and tighter—and I finally spied a knife on the ground. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I swept it up.
Striding in front of Owun, I slashed the meat of my forearm.
Every single vampire there came to attention. Red eyes sharpened on me with a truly frightening predatory point. Shockingly motionless, fangs dripping.
Except Owun, damn it.
He chewed as if fighting his fangs. Bad, because Lorenzo still wouldn’t see his proof.
Unless, from the rate the youngster chewed, he just needed a little bit of a push.
Seb read my intention and started to reach for me. I gave him a panicked shake of my head. He read me flawlessly, as he always did, that this was our last, best hope to nail Owun.
He swallowed hard, and his hand stayed poised in the air. But he didn’t stop me.
Love for him rushed through me. He understood and was supporting me. I’d connected with another soul, something I’d longed for, yearned for, all my life.
It gave me the strength to stick my dripping forearm in front of Owun’s mouth.