Page 84 of Deadmen's Queen

My consciousness flickered on and off like a dying bulb as I lay there on the floor, cold seeping into my bones. Paige... Her name, a litany in my mind. It echoed around me as consciousness began to slip away, swallowed by the rising tide of darkness.

Please be ok, Sunshine. For me. Even if I don’t get to be there. Please live.

Chapter Thirty

UNKNOWN

That wasn’t how it was supposed to go Paige. I don’t like being rushed, but she tried to hurt you, and no one gets to hurt you, Paige. No one except me. Now she’ll never hurt you again.

And then he showed up. Well, despite all the dark stories, it looks like these posh boys aren’t that much of a threat after all. He went down easily, and damn did it feel good sinking my knife into him over and over. Even if you’d been conscious, I know you wouldn’t have been able to see from behind the island, but there was so much blood. I soaked some up with some cloths to show you. I want you to see what I’m willing to do for you, Paige. No, don’t cry.

After all, I’m finally taking you home.

Chapter Thirty One

NATE

The sun clawed its way through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the sterile hospital waiting room. I sat there, elbows on knees, head down, hands clasped together as we waited. I focused on my breathing, as Tristan had taught me, fighting off what must be the third panic attack that hour. Bast could have calmed me down, but he wasn’t in a good place.

He’d been pacing up and down for hours, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. The man known for his iron control and unnatural calm, had completely fallen apart the moment we’d walked into our kitchen last night.

The cryptic phone call from Tristan late last night had unnerved both of us. There had only been two guys at the warehouse, though some had already cleared out by the time we got there, and the guys they’d left behind had squealed almost immediately, letting us know Bates had got an anonymous tip about the location of our warehouse. He’d sent them up to check it out and they’d loaded our latest product into the van, then taken off, leaving these two to set the fire. It was a shame both had ended up consumed by it. We’d just been adding our bloody clothes to the fire, when Bast’s phone had gone off.

The world spun into a blur as Bast, and I had raced back to the car and taken off through the deserted streets. Streetlights streaked above us like fallen stars as Bast opened her up, and we’d made it home in half the time it had taken to reach the warehouse.

We’d skidded into the driveway, nearly hitting Tristan’s Porsche, and sprinted towards the house. I would never forget the sight that waited for us inside. The aftermath of our worst nightmare was real. Bodies sprawled across the tiles, and so much blood. We’d seen devastation before, guys we’d worked with, laughed with. But seeing my friend, my brother, and that pool of blonde hair, that had been shattering.

“Check them.” Bast’s voice had been strained and hollow, as he’d stood there unmoving.

I’d pushed past him, crouching next to Tristan, desperately feeling for a pulse.

“He’s alive,” I’d said. “Bast, call an ambulance now!”

Bast had pulled out his phone but looked across the kitchen.

“Her?” he’d asked, choking on the word.

I crawled across to her, hands and knees covered in blood, my hands trailing over her shoulder to her throat searching for her pulse. I’d tried again and again, but there was nothing, and I’d sat there, staring up at Bast, to see my own agony reflected in his eyes.

He’d given a sharp nod, and turned away, speaking into the phone as the emergency services answered.

I’d slid my hands under her, rolling her over into my arms, needing to hold her one last time before they took her away, and my life ended. And then, it was like my heart had begun to beat again.

Bast had gone quiet, barely speaking except when the paramedics and police had questioned us, and I was forced to take over, telling them just enough to get them off our backs. Once I’d managed that, we’d followed the ambulance to the hospital and Tristan had been rushed into surgery as soon as they’d got him here. That had been seven hours ago, and we were still waiting to hear if he’d pull through.

Bast passed me again, and I reached up, grabbing his wrist.

“Sit down, Bast.”

“I can’t,” he snapped.

“This won’t help. You need to conserve energy for… later.”

“Later? For what? We have no fucking idea where… I can’t do anything, Nate! There’s nothing… she’s gone, and I can’t…” he whirled around and drove his fist into the wall, leaving a sizable dent. “Fuck!”

“I never told her,” I said, staring at the floor.

Bast turned around, blood dripping from his knuckles.

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