“There is.” Her tone is a bit snooty, and her body language is of someone of importance. Who thinks they’re untouchable. So much like her grandfather. When I don’t question her, she lifts her head and glares at Gabriella. “How could you choose this whore over my mother? She’s your wife. Your…fuck!”

Marcia’s tail smacks Diana across the face, cutting her off and knocking out a few front teeth in the process.

“Does that answer your question?” Bending a bit at the waist, I drop a kiss to my pretty girl’s head and pull back, walking to where Elise’s daughter kneels. Dropping to my haunches, I stare down at the girl and wait for her to look up. She’s young compared to me and the rest of the men and women in the room, and even though a bit of vampiric blood runs through her veins, she’s not worthy. A human with the privilege of having a bit of our lineage and nothing more because she’ll never be changed.

She’s a useless toy her mother used, corrupted, and will now be responsible for her death. “Because I wouldn’t touch your mother with someone else’s cock.”

“How could you!”

“Please don’t hit her,” Diana and her husband say in unison. His lip is split open, a large bruise adorns his upper chest, and the bindings are cutting deep into his wrist. The man is a mess, too easy of a kill for me, and I find myself having a bit of pity for him. He loves her, while she takes advantage of that.

“You beg me, and yet I wonder if she’d do the same for you.”

“My loyalty is to my mother.” Diana answers my question, and I could see his heart break. He does love her.

“Why did you do it?” I ask the man, his eyes bloodshot while his skin has grown a bit pallid. He’s scared, and should be. There is no getting out of this alive. “Why did you harm an innocent woman? Why did you pay off the cops who died tonight—tell them to bring Gabriella to a mental asylum with the promise to also use her at their free will?”

“I didn’t.”

“Number one.” That one costs him his hand as I rip it clear off and toss it at his wife’s feet. “For every lie you tell, I’ll take something from you. Now, tell the truth.”

“Elise asked me to.” His voice is shaky, blood pouring out of the wound, and my mouth waters. I’ve been careful with my feeding since Gabriella was born into this human form. I’d never touch someone who’s innocent, but tonight I’ll give in and she’ll see me as I’ve always been.

“To what end?”

“Don’t answer,” Diana grits out, yet her body shakes. Their combined pheromones create a heady scent in the room. Many begin to shake. Some let their fangs drop.

“I’d be quiet if I were you,” I croon. “There are plenty of hungry vampires in here ready for their pound of flesh. Conspiring against the queen is punishable by death in our world. Turning my eyes back to her husband, I shake my head. Pathetic. “Carry on. I want the full story.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You truly are, Consuelos. I’m not arguing that. But finish the story.”

“We were told that Elise is your mate and Gabriella was a witch who cast a spell on you. That she turned you against your wife, and I believed her. This was over a hundred years ago. I had no way to verify, and chose to trust those I call family.” His chest heaves, a sob catching in his throat. “At first, it was supposed to be Tim that took care of her after the brunch meeting—make Gabriella disappear while Elise grieved by your side. Reconnected with Miss Moore out of the picture, and with her son’s infatuation at her disposal, Elise used that to her advantage by enticing him to kidnap her and then keep her as a pet. Her only goal was to make you forget her.”

The room erupts in angry hisses. Many shout curses and demand for me to shed his blood.

“Silence.” All noises cease. “Continue, Detective. Gabriella deserves the truth.”

At that, she makes a small, distressed sound, as if she doesn’t want to hear any more.

I’m sorry, my love.

“But when you killed Tim, plans changed, and I was brought in. My wife signed my death certificate when she begged me to help her frame, kidnap, and then sell Miss Moore to the highest bidder in an overseas auction.” Said wife doesn’t look at him, not an ounce of shame or affection on her face. “I know I’ll die because of this, but please, spare her. Send Diana away from her mother’s influence—”

He’s silenced by my hand around his throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off his air supply but not snap his neck.

“Theo!” Gabriella calls out and I turn to face her, the choking man in my grip now off the ground and his neck exposed to me. “You—”

“They were going to rape, sell, and eventually kill you,” I growl, voice thundering throughout the room, and the vampires within all bow their heads. Even Meera, Tero, and Marcia, who are from a line of witches and shapeshifters, show their respect and kneel. My anger can’t be abated. Not by killing him or his cunt wife. Nothing can take away the anger but my wife, and she’s the one who’s carried the brunt of injustice at every turn. “His sentence is death.”

“Is there any other way?” Her timid voice and the fear in her eyes hurts, but I harden my features instead. She’ll remember soon enough.

“No.” And then I sink my teeth into his neck, lip curled up as my body vibrates with ire. Each drop of blood that flows down my throat brings my beast further out, my need for vengeance overriding my senses.

What they almost did to her…

I rip his arm clean off his body and toss it at his wife. Her screams rend the air, causing the others in the room to begin stomping their feet. Next, I send her his right leg and then left while pulling in the last few mouthfuls of his blood, what’s left of him is limp in my arms.

Diana is crying, trying to move away from the parts of his body near her, but what’s in her eyes isn’t love or remorse. No. It’s disgust and anger; like her mother, she’s bitter and shrewd.

When I’m done with him, I toss what’s left with the other body parts. “Go ahead and put your toy back together again. Or better yet, let’s see if your mother comes to save you.”

37

Gabriella

“W

hy?” is all I can think to ask, my mind trying to make sense of the incomprehensible—a nightmare come to life. Diana’s chained in front of me and wearing her husband’s blood after a confession that rocked me to my core. What have I ever done to these people? Her clothes are in tatters while the crowd begins to chant around us, their feet stomping the concrete ground.

Then, there’s Tero, his wife, and the cobra that lies closest to me in her coiled form, creating a barrier between me and the crowd. She’s attuned to my every move. Her head is low to the ground in a non-threatening way, and it reminds me of Mr. Pickles—

“My dog,” I say suddenly, and the room goes quiet. They all look at me with affection. With the need to help me, but don’t know how.

“We have him,” Meera says, stepping toward me with both hands up. “Tero called me when they took you and I brought him home; he’s asleep next to our rescue puppy. See?” She’s holding up her phone, and on the screen is a live feed of both dogs asleep and cuddled up next to each other. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, Gabriella. He’s safe.”

“Thank you.” There’s an audible sigh of relief from the others in the room, but Theo has yet to say a word, although it’s better this way because seeing him handle Consuelos like a ragdoll gave me an adverse reaction to what I should consider normal. He was a beast, and while it scared me, a small, hidden part of me liked it. Enjoyed seeing a man—the killer beneath the façade of a handsome man gives into his baser need.

For revenge.

For death.

To protect me.

The latter of which I’m still choosing to ignore because anything otherwise means I’m giving in. That I believe all this is real and not part of a broken mind’s hallucinations.

And yet, I’ve seen Theo’s bloodied fangs. I watched him drain the now mangled body of Detective Consuelos, tossing him aside as if he were trash. This is real. Accept it.

“…finish the story your husband began, Miss Veltross,” Theo snarls suddenly from beside me and I yelp, his bloody lips curling over his fangs. However, my brows scrunch up for a different reason. I pause because of that name. Why does it sound familiar? Why does the blood within my veins sing with a burning ire each time he mentions it? “Tell Gabriella why she died in my arms over a century ago after your grandfather slashed her chest.”

My hand instinctively goes to my chest while my mind revisits that dream. I remember vividly how the man in the dream took me, made my body sing with pleasure, and then the words that followed.

“They did this to us,” I whisper and his head snaps to mine, the softest look overtaking his features. “That was really you in my dream, wasn’t it? It was you I visited?”

“Yes.”