Page 65 of The Maestro's Mates
Blood spatter flew, and if the witch had any defenses, he didn’t have a chance to mount them. He couldn’t even speakbefore his severed head went flying, hitting the far wall of the wooden shack with a thud.
It was only then Justin came back to himself. Pavel and Sebastian stared at him, a mix of fear and concern showing on their faces. Pavel was kneeling, and Sebastian was sitting now, leaning against their gargoyle mate. Justin opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
He tried again and was once again unsuccessful. Instead, he collapsed to his knees, slamming down onto the hard earth.
“It was the crimson surge,” Sebastian said, his voice rough and tired. At the sound of it, Justin’s demon wanted to rally for more fighting, but he had nothing left.
“What?” Pavel asked.
“A vampire trait. If a vampire’s mate is in danger, the demon inside takes over. Alistair never had a chance.”
Justin wanted to chime in, wanted to explain further, but still nothing would come out. A wave of dizziness overtook him.
Finally, he forced out the words.
“Are you…okay?”
Sebastian smiled at the question but didn’t get up from the ground.
“I’ve been better,” he said, a haunted look in his eyes. “I stayed awake until about an hour ago. He didn’t have his hands on me for long. But…”
Pavel reached down and stroked Sebastian’s cheek. “You don’t have to talk about it. But we have to get out of here before someone notices something is wrong.”
The tall witch stared at Justin, who still could not find the energy to bring himself back to his feet.
“We do,” Sebastian said. “But in a few moments, Justinwill be dead weight, as will I. He is suffering from the aftereffects of the crimson surge, and I haven’t slept in four days. It’s a long way for you to carry the two of us.”
Pavel kissed Sebastian gently on the forehead and then hoisted him up with his right arm.
“I’ll always bring you both home.”
Chapter 25
Sebastian
Sebastian drifted in and out of sleep for what might have been hours or might have been days—he wasn’t sure. On at least one occasion, something pressed against his forehead, a slight, gentle hand. Justin’s? He didn’t know, but it was cool and soothing.
For the most part, the sleep was wholesome and desperately needed. There was a current of unease there, though. In the short time Alistair had Sebastian under his control, he’d brought forth a cavalcade of horrors. His family and his mates tortured along with himself, all devastatingly realistic. He didn’t have nightmares, but the memories of the emotions and the lingering physical sensations of the abuse haunted his slumber.
When he finally woke, it was immediate, the morning sun like a slap across the face. He didn’t know if his body was done with sleep, or if his mind wanted to avoid the state in which he’d experienced all that pain. Regardless, he was awake.
As his eyelids fluttered open, he didn’t recognize the room around him. A sparsely decorated gray bedroom with a minimalist aesthetic, he lay on the only piece of furniture in the room, other than a single chest of drawers. The place didn’t have a trace of personality.
Turning to his left, he saw his vampire lying there on his back, one blonde curl splayed across his nose. Sebastian smiled. Justin and Pavel had rescued him. Justin had decapitated the dream witch in seconds, turning into an absolute killing machine. For his sake. He wished it wasn’t necessary, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed by his mate. Pavel wasn’t the only one with killer protective instincts.
After only a moment, Justin’s eyelids snapped open, which made sense. Despite being a generally sleepy person, Justinwasa vampire. He didn’t need all the naps he took.
Justin propped himself up on his elbow, returning Sebastian’s gaze with a concerned smile.
“How do you feel?”
Sebastian took in the question. How did he feel? Surprisingly well. He needed the rest.
“I’m good. Sore from being on the ground for four days, but good. Refreshed.”
The memory of Justin collapsing in the witch’s shack flashed back to him. Sebastian hated seeing him like that, unable to move, unable to speak.
“How areyou?” he asked.
