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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"Sterling," Lucas warned.
The man hadn't dropped his glamour. He was less than a minute away from breaking their truce and smashing Sterling's head on the counter.
Sterling was always better at magic than he was.
He wasn't taking chances.
He received a glare before Sterling finally gave in. It became clear why the man had resisted for so long. Sterling's magic fell, revealing his battered face. Lucas had his share of bruises, and his nose was broken. But Sterling had been tortured.
Sterling never dropped his scowl. But his powder-keg fury didn't hold as much weight, with his eyes swollen and dark bruises across his face. He had a deep split on his lip from a fist that didn't stop. His shoulder fell slightly. It was apparent he'd been holding himself straighter past discomfort. He had a noticeable limp now that he didn't need to hide it.
Guilt clenched Lucas's insides. Under the glamour, Sterling still wore tiny silver hoops up his ears, hidden by his hair.
And the scar that made him want to vomit was stark against Sterling's pale skin, faded somewhat but still grisly.
"You didn't know the agent would be here," Kiernan said coldly. "Who are you here for? Reid, then." He realized something and added thoughtfully, "No. You would know he wasn't here. You used Carla's magic to locate us. So, that denotes you're after one of us."
The tall and broad vampire said evenly, "Lucas Amala."
Everyone seemed to be taken aback.
Lucas was, too. Why would they want him? He was a nobody. Kiernan was Reid's maker. He'd be a sure way to force Reid out of hiding. Kane, too. They had their pick of essential people to kidnap.
"We will have no reason to fight you," a vampire behind the others piped in, "if he comes with us without resistance. Azrael ordered Lucas Amala to come to him in utmost condition."
"What does he want with him?" Sterling asked curiously.
The vampires glanced at each other, then, tall and broad, said, "That's for Azrael to know."
Sterling narrowed his gaze. "They believe you're important to their ritual." He hummed softly. "And Azrael needs you. Badly. They're trying to stop thinking about it." He laughed. "Too late!" He gave Lucas a cheeky grin. "The ritual to summon some beast doesn't work without you. That's all they've been-"
Sterling wanted to be praised. It wasn't happening.
"I just helped you," Sterling snapped, "ungrateful bastard. Go fuck yourself. I don't want your praise."
Sterling's middle finger was stuck in front of his face, Lucas slapped it away with a roll of his eyes.
The vampires glowered, and the tension in the room rose. The wall clock above the counter was stiflingly loud, every tick counting the seconds to someone's death.
