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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One hour prior.
The vampires didn't stop.
It wasn't the first time Lucas fought for his life. He usually felt exhilarated. He didn't get off on it like Kane, the crazy bastard, but he had a death wish that gave him a thrill like no other.
That feeling followed him for... He couldn't recall when it began. Maybe it had always been there. Or maybe he kept fighting fate every time he opened his eyes in the morning and dared to dream of a future.
He had asked himself that a lot lately. Mostly when they survived the impossible. It was always the same question pin-balling in his mind on repeat:
Was he meant to die?
Every time, he resisted the urge to end it all. Was he fighting the will of whatever decided that he would bleed out, slumped behind this bar with a bullet in his thigh?
Kane would say fuck off to fate and do what he wanted, no matter the cost.
Lucas couldn't. Did that make him weak? Probably.
He felt like he was wandering in a dark forest without a light. Hannah had said something similar in the Pancake Express, and at the time, it had struck him, made him think that maybe he was wrong for laying everything he had on those visions.
But now he was stumbling, unable to find the path he should have been on when it had been right there for so long. That path, for seven years, was blinding blue eyes and a cocky grin that got his heart racing like no other.
What was the point of fighting fate?
Reid's screams. The burning pain that was radiating up his leg. His impending death that become more apparent every second he didn't fire back.
Nothing came of it except suffering.
He thought that after the conversation in the living room with Kane the crazy bastard had a point, made some sense, and he'd decided they could make their own path. But losing Reid wasn't worth being free.
Staring at the gun in his hand, Lucas debated placing it against his head and pulling the trigger.
Before he could decide, Kiernan's shoulder pressed against Lucas's, cursing under his breath when bullets continued to whiz by.
Lucas didn't waste his breath telling the vampire that they needed to keep space because, at any moment, those bastards would realize they had them completely pinned.
Then they would be done for.
He knew he was going soft because he wanted Kiernan to stay close. He didn't want to die alone. No one does—even a cold asshole like him.
Bullets zinged past their heads, pinging loudly when they hit the wood of the bar that had served as their refuge since a dozen more vampires burst in. They were already facing six vamps that made the humanity in Lucas's blood boil. They were old and experienced.
