Page 62 of Priest

“Jeremiah said the same thing,” Azriel replied dryly.

Priest pulled back to look at him. “He’s okay?”

“Same condition as you. Healing faster, but it looks like you took the brunt of whatever they threw at you.”

Priest swore quietly as he let his head fall back against the wall. “They got away.”

“They did. Only one human guard was left alive, but once it was determined he didn’t know anything, Knight, ah…” Azriel smiled. “Helped himself.”

Knight deserved the hot, fresh meal, and Priest was pretty sure any person willingly working at that lab deserved a painful death. Priest didn’t make it a habit to feel sorry for people he didn’t know, anyway. He wasn’t the most empathetic being and never would be. He’d grown up knowing everything cognizant with a pulse was potential food.

It was only after meeting Jeremiah that he realized there was more than lust—more than power. That he was capable of love. And now, though he was fighting to ignore it, possibly even something more. Something fated.

Turning his face back toward Oliver’s neck, he breathed him in. He was starving, and he was going to need more than a small taste to finish healing. Oliver seemed to sense that, but when he turned his head, body tense like he was going to address the room, Priest kissed him quiet.

“Not now,” he murmured against Oliver’s lips. He felt Oliver’s anger, almost as powerful as his lust, and he smiled. “Soon. I need to debrief and figure out what’s next. And Poe…”

“Alive,” Oliver said. “But…”

It was as they’d suspected.

Priest sat all the way up with a groan. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, but he’d suffered worse. His gaze fixed on the doorway as a figure appeared. Jeremiah looked almost as bad as he did, though he was walking steadily. He grabbed a chair from against the wall and flipped it around, straddling it.

To an observer, the move would look careless and arrogant, but Priest knew him like he knew himself, and he saw the fatigue and pain running through him. And he could feel Jeremiah’s need to leave—to throw himself into Remi’s arms and heal.

“Poe will survive. He’s past the change,” Jeremiah said, his voice raspy. “Knight’s helping him through it, but he’s going to need protection, somewhere to go, and I can’t put any of our people on it right now, so any ideas you have will be helpful.”

Priest realized he was addressing Oliver, who shrank back. “Everyone in his family is an ally, but…”

“But we can’t be sure they’ll accept it in one of their own,” Priest finished for him, holding him a little tighter.

Oliver bowed his head. “They’re on the side of supernaturals, but Vampires…”

“Demons? Hellhounds?” Jeremiah said with a wry grin. “Trust me, that is a very familiar song and dance. I suppose I can ask the king and queen if they can shelter him, but I hate bringing more danger to their door.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Azriel cleared his throat. “He can come with me.”

Priest blinked at him in surprise as Jeremiah shook his head. “I don’t think a strip club is the best place for a new Vampire.”

“I have rooms at the club, but I don’t live there,” Azriel said, rolling his eyes. “I have an actual home.”

Priest felt foolish for being so damn surprised. How had he not known? How had he not even assumed that Azriel had a life outside of the Pearly Gates?

“I’m not going to patronize you and ask if you understand what it will mean to take care of a freshly turned Vampire who is also going to have massive trauma from being kidnapped and tortured,” Jeremiah said slowly. “But I need you to acknowledge that I have nowhere to take him if you show up at my door covered in bite marks.”

Azriel’s lips quirked up into a small smirk. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“I do,” Oliver said. He pushed out of Priest’s grasp and threw his arms around Azriel. “Thank you. I’m… I don’t know what to say.”

Azriel’s eyes closed, and he held Oliver tightly. Priest should have been feeling jealous. He should want to tear the Angel’s throat out, but instead, he was just relieved Oliver hadn’t lost his friend and that Poe wouldn’t be going through this alone.

“If that’s that…” Jeremiah said, moving to stand, but he froze when Priest made a noise of protest.

“That’s not that. I’m not done here. I want to know what the fuck took us out at the knees.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his muscles screaming with pain. “I want to know what information we got and if we were right.”

Jeremiah swallowed thickly. “We were right. At least, as far as Knight and I can tell. We don’t know why, and the one person who might actually know something is still missing.”

“Ozias,” Priest said, sagging backward.

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