The Dark City Chronicles ⁓ Book Three
The apocalypse looms ever closer! Steamy romance, heart-stopping action, seductive vampires, magic that defies nature, sprinkles of dark-humor, and, as always, the everlasting bonds of friendship.
Hannah's strug...
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With a heavy heart and held breath, Kane watched as his plea to a higher authority went unheeded.
Reid's eyes flickered open. He wasn't fully conscious; his gaze was distant and glassy.
It took everything in Kane not to crawl across the room, take him in his arms, hold the idiot close, and tell him that everything would be alright.
The noise that escaped Reid when he took in Milton, frowning down at him, was pure anguish that resonated in Kane's soul. He had the same reaction tenfold. Milton was alive. It wasn't possible, but here they were, sitting in a room with a dead man.
But they were alive after everything that was thrown at them tonight.
Why was he questioning anything anymore?
"I'm here," Milton whispered, gathering Reid's limp body against his chest. "My stupid boys. What have you done?"
Kane exhaled shakily, turning his blurry gaze to the door. He raised his gun, the weapon trembling in his grasp. From his vantage point, he would be able to blow away the first unlucky bastard that came through the threshold.
"Fuck," Kane growled as waves of burning pain shook through him. Footsteps were getting closer. His arm trembled, finger resting on the trigger, ready. The fire in his veins wasn't easing. He held back a scream, gritting his teeth.
Gunshots echoed in the corridor, followed by the sound of shattering glass.
Then, silence.
He could hear Milton trying to rouse Reid with growing desperation. At a quick glance Kane saw Reid had closed his eyes and fallen unconscious.
Kane wasn't a man who prayed, but he found himself doing so at that moment. He prayed that the blood would be enough to keep Reid alive, that his dad was truly here, and that whoever was approaching the door wasn't a vampire able to hear his heavy breathing.
His prayer was answered.
Through the door wafted a familiar voice.
"Rainer. I'm coming in. I'm asking you kindly not to shoot me."
Hearing Kiernan's voice, relief washed over Kane, followed by a wave of exhaustion. "Come in," he whispered weakly, trusting the vampire to hear his faint voice.
"No," Milton growled as Kane lowered the gun, unable to hold the weapon up any longer. "Shoot him!"
The shout drew Kane's attention. He saw that Milton had smeared blood from his wrist over the back of Reid's shirt while clutching his limp body protectively.
The door opened.
Kiernan paused at the threshold, his face registering shock so profound it was almost comical. He looked battered, his face bruised all over. The blood he'd taken before leaving the house must have run out, followed by taking a few punches. His curly brown hair was a bloody mess. It was clear he'd been in a hell of a fight.
