Page 152 of Wicked Lord

A collective breath rippled through the chamber.

Vaughn’s hands flew to his neck, fingers slipping uselessly through the blood spilling between them. He twitched beneath Bass, choking on a sound that was half gasp, half plea, but no words came out. Only wet, broken gurgles.

His mouth opened and closed, eyes darting wildly from face to face, searching for loyalty, mercy, anything.

He found none.

Only silence and judgment. And the oath he’d sworn sealing around him like a noose.

He choked once more, blood bubbling over his lips, still clawing at his throat as his body fought for a few more seconds of life it no longer owned.

Acid oozed up my throat when he finally stilled, his dark eyes fixed on the ceiling. I hated to admit that I was grateful not to be the one who slaughtered Vaughn, but Bass would want something in return for keeping my hands clean.

“I apologize for overstepping, Grand Domnus. As a former Domnus, I’m used to taking immediate action.” Bass wiped the blood off his knife on Vaughn’s shirt before standing. “Since the position is open, I have the perfect candidate to clean up Vaughn’s mess and make preparations for the fall semester.”

A string of curses dropped out of Killian’s mouth.

Son of a bitch.

I should have known this was what Bass was after all along.

CHAPTER 61

SEE YOU IN HELL

Lorelei

My heart hammered against my ribs, each step closer to the police station propelling it like a battering ram. My guard had received a mysterious call from Mr. Vanderhart, and the next thing I knew I was exchanging my pajamas for respectable clothes and getting shuttled over here.

As we marched up the street, I searched the front of the old brick building for a recognizable face, but instead, a throng of paparazzi and reporters filled every corner of the sidewalk and trailed up the first few steps.

“What is going on?” I breathed.

“Just wait here, Miss Battenberg.” Murphy took a protective stance in front of me as we waited a few yards from the gathering crowd in the shade of an old willow tree. “Mr. Vanderhart will be out shortly.”

Had Conrad’s attorney finally gotten Axel out on bail?

I swallowed hard as hissed whispers and rushed murmurs swirled all around us. One of the reporters, a blond female Irecognized from the local Copper Cove news channel, swiveled her bright-eyed gaze in our direction. As if she’d hit the jackpot, her eyes widened at the sight of me.

She elbowed the cameraman by her side before abandoning her post at the steps and darting toward me.

Oh, shit.

The woman shoved a mic in my face, despite Murphy’s best efforts at keeping her back. “Miss Battenberg, Kennedy Jackson from Channel 5 News, if I could just have a minute?”

I shook my head, dropping my gaze to the ground.

“Aren’t you Lorelei Battenberg, daughter of Senator Grayson Battenberg?”

Great, Dad was going to love this.

I pressed my lips into a tight line, refusing to rise to the bait.

“She’s not talking,” my guard hissed, but it didn’t derail the eager reporter one bit.

“Is it true that you’re engaged to Axel Vanderhart, the murderer?” She shoved the mic around Murphy’s burly form.

“He’s not a murderer,” I spat, unable to keep my mouth closed. “He’s the kindest, most decent man I know.”