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“You’re right.” Julian’s eyes lit up, so pale now that they seemed to glow. “I almost forgot.”
His lips curved, pristine white fangs lengthening in front of her. He finally pulled his hand away from his crotch, crooking a black claw—a vampire’s claw—at Hudson.
Her brother didn’t even hesitate. He immediately approached the dais. His body blocked her view so Shea wasn’t so sure what happened next. She thought she saw Julian drop his hand so that it was at his side. A second later, he slashed outward and upward, the air whistling at the speed with which he moved his hand.
Hudson gasped as he spun away from Julian. The gasp was followed by a terrible gurgling sound as he clasped his palm to his throat. Blood seeped through the gaps between his fingers. His knees buckled and, as his eyes went wide in shock and pain, he collapsed in a pile on the floor.
“Hudson!”
“Heal him,” ordered Julian.
She whirled on him. “What?”
“He boasted that you had the skill. I want to see it myself. My betrothed must be as powerful as she is lovely. So, yes, I suppose you were right. I do need a healing.”
He... he did it on purpose.
Shea couldn’t believe it. All vamps learned how to take blood from a willing donor without leaving any sign of their theft behind. He slashed her brother because he wanted to.
Heal him?
It was Hudson. Her older brother. For her, there was no other choice.
She immediately tapped into her well of healing. Her hands took on the otherworldly magenta glow as she pulled as much power into her as possible. From somewhere in front of her, she heard a sound of surprise followed by hushed murmurs and knew it had to do with the strange color. Magic was always purple. The magenta was super unusual.
Made sense, though. Shea’s healing—which could be strengthened by her powers—had always been mostly separate from her backwards magic.
Hiking up her dress, she barely realized that her ass was showing as she started to crouch down at Hudson’s side. She was desperate to lay her hands on her brother. Despite the strength of her shields—which, even in her panic, she refused to drop with the Nightwalkers surrounding her—she could sense the screaming pain and scorching heat as Hudson’s lifeblood spilled out of his throat.
The wound was a fatal one. If she didn’t heal him, he would die.
“Wait,” Julian commanded. Shea jerked her head in time to see the Nightwalker nod over at the other two. “Don’t let her touch him.”
Rafe was so quick, he had straightened from his slouch and zoomed across the room before Shea had even dropped to her knees to reach for Hudson. Her hands outstretched, she missed him by inches when Rafe wrapped his arms around her, lifting her from the ground and hauling her away from where Hudson continued to gurgle.
“Let me go!” She kicked her legs, struggling to break free. “I have to touch him to heal him! He’ll die if I don’t!”
Julian clucked his tongue, stepping easily down from the dais, moving in front of Shea while blocking the choking Hudson from her sight. He reached out, tipping her chin back with the tip of his monstrous claw. It was thinner than Colton’s claws, a dark black that he could never sheathe, and the point was so sharp, she
didn’t even breathe in case it cut right into her skin.
“Tell me, what is your brother worth to you?” Julian asked. The chill was back in his voice as he watched her unblinkingly. “He was willing to sell you out to me. Now I’ve claimed you for myself without giving you any choice. It’s his fault, my darling. Shouldn’t you want to see him suffer?”
She dared a gulp before whispering the truth: “No.”
“That’s right. Good, Shea. For this to work, one of us needs a heart.” Julian’s chuckle sent a shiver coursing down her spine as he removed his claw from her chin
She resisted the urge to wipe it, checking for blood. No time. Hudson was bleeding out too quickly.
Her hands shaky as she clenched them into tight fists, she begged. “Let me heal him. Please. You wanted to see what I can do. I can show you right now.”
“Smart witch.” He nodded in approval. “In exchange for his life, you’re willing to give me what I want? Whatever I want, even if it’s your freedom, your body, and your life?”
Shea was a witch. Julian might be a Nightwalker, but his words weren’t just that. They echoed with an intonation, more a spell than a question.
If she said yes, there was no going back.
If she said yes—
