Page 15 of Burn for Her

“You’ve added to your collection.” Lucian fingered a set of blades laid out on the tiny kitchen table. “These are impressive.”

By impressive, Dorian knew he meant terrifying. Lucian might be a cutthroat, dangerous vampire, but he wasn’t at Dorian’s caliber of bloodletting.

“Impressive or not, they do the job. I can target specific arteries with that one.” He pointed at a thin blade that looked like an oversized needle. “I had it specifically made by someone up north.”

Lucian sucked in a breath as he picked up the delicate blade. He didn’t say a word, but then again, he didn’t have to. Dorian knew what he was thinking, Monster, and he was right. Dorian stopped apologizing a long time ago for what he was.

“The lengths you go to for our House.” Lucian let out a strangled exhale before glancing around the rest of the room to see what Dorian did or, more accurately, did not have. “You should hang some pictures. Make it homey.”

“It’s homey enough.”

Monsters didn’t need homes. They just needed a place to rest. But he understood Lucian’s lack of understanding. Lucian was an aristocrat… or had been once. His family turned their backs on him when he decided to serve the House of Death instead of the House they chose. But before he came to New Orleans, Lucian had grown up with lavish rooms, the finest quality of everything, and dined in extravagance. Hell, the mansion he lived in now with the King and the others was just as huge and luxurious as the estate he left centuries ago. He’d traded one luxury for another, albeit the Mad House was in need of some repair.

Dorian’s house looked more like a prison than a home. It was cold and unfeeling, but at least it was clean, and it was his. All his. That was worth more to Dorian than any grand suite the mansion could ever offer.

His grip tightened around the visor mirror. How could he ever invite a woman into this space? It was nothing more than a lair.

Wait. Was he actually considering going after her?

His protective instincts set off and he wasn’t sure why.

“Let’s go through this again.” Lucian tapped his thumb on the table. “Five-six, brown hair, brown eyes.” Lucian pulled a chair out from the dining table and dropped his ass down into it. “If she’s been beaten, maybe we can ask Reys to go through the database of hospitals? It’s a long shot but, we gotta start somewhere. How bad was she hurt you think?”

Badly. Dorian couldn’t bring himself to say the word. The thought alone had his veins boiling. He slumped into the chair opposite Lucian and clutched the sides of his head. There were a million monsters out there—a potential threat around every corner. His mate was already in danger and he hadn’t been there to stop it.

“I can’t do this.” His voice was ragged and warped with pain. “I can’t fucking do any of this.”

“The House of Death needs you, Reaper.”

Dorian swallowed around the tension in his throat.

Lucian toyed with one of the blades on the table. “And if you’re distracted with finding your mate, that means Savag-Ri, or one of the Lycan packs, or even someone from one of the other Houses, could see it as an opportunity to come for us.”

“The pack would never—”

“You only speak for one Lycan clan, Dorian. Don’t presume all shifters are the same. You know firsthand they’re not friendly to our kind.”

Dorian bit the inside of his cheek. “Your point?”

“I’m going to do all I can to help you find your mate.”

Fuck if Dorian didn’t growl at that offer. He didn’t want Lucian anywhere near his mate until he could find, drink, and turn her himself. Bind her to him for all eternity. A savage possessiveness outshined all his other instincts, and it presented itself with his next growl.

Lucian cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t have a choice in this. I stay close to you until it’s over.”

Until it’s over.

“You can’t leave the King unguarded.”

“Malachi will understand.”

“This can’t be happening.” Dorian stared at the visor and hated what glared back at him. He wasn’t ready to die… What if I hurt her? What if I hurt others in my pursuit to find her? What if I never make it? The what ifs were going to break him at this rate. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. I’m going to help you—"

“No,” Dorian voice strained. “I can’t do this to you, not after Luke.” That vampire’s death was still too fresh, and Lucian hadn’t had any time to grieve his loss. “And I can’t do this to her. She deserves better than a monster like me.”

Lucian’s gaze darkened. “She deserves to make that choice herself.”

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