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.

What were a few more?

Bloody hell.

Their quick, tactical movements revealed that they weren't mere brawlers.

Lucas found solace in the fact that he wouldn't bite the dust with a stray bullet. Instead, he'd die fighting the Sinclair Coven's finest.

The bullets didn't let up. There wasn't a moment when retaliation didn't involve risking getting their heads blown off.

They were going to die. But until then, they would fight like hell to keep those bastards from getting to Kane and Reid.

Lucas didn't care that a moment later the wood splintered near his head. He didn't flinch, not like Kiernan did. His mind was stuck repeating two names, giving him a painful, distracting wrench in his heart:

Reid and Asha.

Once, when he'd been watching a cheesy late-night movie whose plot he couldn't recall, he'd seen a star being born. He remembered the burst of horribly rendered color. In his heart, he felt that, in high definition, it was sparkling a hundred shades of blue. And in its wake, burning brightly, was a flame of love he couldn't ignore.

For a moment, he loathed that promise of a future. Everything would be easier if he didn't have a reason to fight.

But he did.

Two reasons.

Fuck fate.

He would see them again.

Yet, the experienced fighter in him knew there was no hope. They were pinned. They were outnumbered. And he was injured. The vampires could probably smell his blood in the air.

He laughed dejectedly.

Kiernan looked at him sharply, but the vampire didn't comment on his apparent loss of sanity. They were due for some after everything. Kiernan didn't return fire, holding his gun in both hands with a slight tilt to his head.

Lucas assumed the vampire must be listening to their enemies with his heightened hearing, or he'd gone off the deep end entirely.

Hopefully, the former.

Lucas picked up the stray bullets scattered beside his bleeding thigh from where he'd dropped them in the fray. They were specialty impact bursting. He'd learned a long time ago that they'd make vampires think twice. No one wanted to spend days picking out shrapnel from a wound, especially when it kept healing over.

With a steady hand, he began reloading his pistol.

What he wouldn't give for some vampire perks right now, specifically healing. He could ask for blood. He had a powerful vampire pressed up against his side, but the bullet was still in his thigh. If he healed now, it would be a bugger to get out later.

Later?

There wasn't going to be a later.

"I'm bleeding out," Lucas said casually, clicking the cylinder of his revolver back in place. "Might pass out."

From Lucas's peripheral, he saw Kiernan's gaze flicker down to his injured leg. His jeans were soaked with blood. He'd been ignoring the pain, but the vampire's scrutiny brought it to his attention. The burn from the wound was enough to speckle his vision black.

He was right. He was close to passing out. It might be a mercy for him, but he'd be leaving Kiernan alone to deal with whatever these bastards had planned.

After a moment of contemplation, Kiernan said, "Put pressure on it." He flinched when a bullet hit the bar above their heads.

Lucas grinned. "No point. We'll be dead in a minute."

Kiernan scoffed.

There was a bang. Footsteps descended the stairs from the parking lot outside. It was storming. He could hear the battering of the rain and the echo of distant thunder.

He laughed.

There was a garbled shout.

Then came a hail of gunshots.

Louder, deeper. A different caliber.

There was a fight happening beyond their refuge. Lucas laid his hand on his thigh, futilely trying to keep his blood where it belonged.

"Hell," he whispered.

Kiernan surprised him by murmuring, "We're not there yet."

Lucas grinned. He could appreciate a joke at a bad time. It reminded him of Reid. But where Kiernan gave off cold cockiness, Reid gave off wickedness, with a twinge of insanity that lit up his blue eyes. Somehow, even nuts, Reid made the darkest moments seem impossibly brighter. His presence would have made this shit bearable.

But Reid wasn't here.

He was somewhere in pain, screaming.

Lucas was startled when Kiernan's hand came to rest on his, pressing down and causing a rush of pain that had him hissing air through his teeth.

He stared at the blood-smeared blue ring on Kiernan's finger. He wondered how fucked up he had to be to have a shudder of heat take him at a time like this.

Really fucked up.

Did he care?

Not really.

Kiernan was attractive, and Lucas wasn't blind. But that's not why he felt warm. The vampire was skittish. Not weak, but wary, like at any moment Kiernan thought he was going to be devoured if he let his guard down.

To touch him, Kiernan had dropped his defences.

Lucas didn't know how to deal with that. He couldn't. The blood loss was making him sluggish, both physically and mentally.

They were going to die any minute.

So he felt instead of thought.

Pain. Anger. Fear. Longing. An explosive cocktail that he clung to in the hope that it would give him the strength to beat their unfavourable odds.

Lucas stared at his blood slipping through their fingers and grew dizzier. He was going to die, but he would try to ensure Kiernan made it out alive. Back when they were under that curse, he'd held Kiernan while the vampire sobbed and scratched his arms to shit. That experience awakened something in him—a need to protect. He knew Kiernan wouldn't be pleased if he ever found out, but it didn't stifle the feeling any less.

"Let me handle this," Kiernan whispered near his ear. "It's Gabriel's people." There was that shudder again, reminding Lucas how messed he was. The vampire's hand slipped from his. "Don't act rash. Follow my lead."

Not my people? It could have been a slip of the tongue, but Lucas doubted it.

Lucas replied with a grunt. He stopped trying to stanch the bleeding.

He looked at the wrist that was offered toward him, and then to the vampire it was attached to. Kiernan wasn't watching him. The vampire was looking up, towards the edge of the bar, with a tilt to his head, listening intently.

"The bullet is still inside," Lucas said.

"Later," Kiernan said curtly, giving Lucas an icy glare. "Take it. Quickly. Only enough to keep you alive."

He didn't have a choice.

Lucas gripped Kiernan's arm and tried not to contemplate the fact that he'd bitten this wrist twice in the last day. His pride would take a major hit. And he'd begin worrying about the fact that he'd bled a lot, and the last thing he wanted was more of Kiernan's blood in his veins than his own.

He bit, with blunt teeth cutting skin, and tried not to vomit. It wasn't nasty, but it was blood. Iron tang filling his mouth. The only mercy was that his stomach didn't have the same nauseating response as when he had swallowed his own blood during particularly grisly fights.

Vampire blood wasn't shit that he liked to play with, not when it made him hot, hungry, and painfully hard.

Stopping was a challenge.

Kiernan took back his arm forcibly.

Lucas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood dripped from his fingers, and he grimaced. Most of it was his, from trying to stanch the gunshot on his thigh, but there was enough to make him slip out of reality for a few seconds and contemplate what layer of hell he'd fallen into this time.

The pain in his leg didn't abate, but the bleeding slowed.

They waited out the fierce fight happening on the other side of their refuge.

A gunshot sounded, and silence followed.

Someone had won the bloodbath.

Hopefully, it was someone friendly.

A man's baritone voice shouted from the other end of the club.

"Kiernan!"

Lucas glanced at Kiernan, and his stomach dropped. The vampire's eyes were fixed on him, but he wasn't there. There was a palpable fear in his distant brown gaze.

Lucas took that as not friendly, then.

He tightened his grip on his gun.

The man's voice was closer, "Are you injured?"

Kiernan wasn't answering. Without thinking of the consequences, Lucas grasped the vampire's chin, tilting his head so Kiernan was forced to look deep into his eyes.

The vampire put up no resistance. Lucas felt an unpleasant tugging of Kiernan's dominating power alive in his mind, but he didn't look away.

Lucas stared hard.

Kiernan stared back.

They couldn't speak because whoever was approaching with slow footsteps would hear them.

And in Kiernan's brown eyes, Lucas saw what the vampire was trying to convey.

This wasn't their savior. It was their reaper.

Lucas dropped his hand, his heart heavy. He knew he wasn't going to see Asha again. He couldn't remember what he had said to her on that phone call before the club. The words were blurring. He mourned what he would never hear or have again: her voice, her soft skin, her gentle touch.

And bloody hell, Reid.

Why couldn't he have been kinder when he held Reid in his arms? Not always pawing at him desperately. Lucas thought they didn't have time for anything else. His death was coming. He found comfort in that certainty. Now everything was messed up.

In his heart, he knew that he wanted Reid more than what they'd been doing—slowly, indulgently, forever.

No wonder Kane wanted to kill him.

"I'm sorry," Kiernan whispered so softly that Lucas nearly didn't hear.

The fight wasn't finished.

Before Lucas could think to raise his gun, Kiernan snatched the weapon and tossed it aside.

The revolver slid across the tiles, too far for either of them to reach.

Lucas growled, "What the hell are you doing?"

He stared into Kiernan's eyes and saw pity.

Dread clenched his stomach.

"No," Lucas whispered. 

He made a grab for Kiernan's gun, but the vampire shoved him away. His back hit the bar with a painful thud that left his ears ringing. Was Kiernan going to betray him? He deciphered nothing from Kiernan's statuesque expression, took in ragged breaths, and laughed dejectedly.

Then footsteps rounded the bar.

His leg still hurt, despite the blood. Standing wasn't happening, even if remaining on his ass made him pathetically vulnerable. He gritted his teeth so hard that he was surprised his jaw didn't pop.

Then it didn't matter because Lucas was staring up at a man in tactical gear and a black mask that shadowed his features.

The man was tall, and the black of his body armour made his eyes, which Lucas could see peering out from the mask, an even colder ice blue. He was a big, broad bastard. Lucas didn't meet people his height often. Kane was close, but not quite.

Giving a careful glance to Kiernan, Lucas couldn't tell what the vampire was thinking past his deadened expression.

"Hey, boss," the man said in a deep voice.

Lucas snorted and took his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He placed one between his lips.

Kiernan didn't respond. Lucas risked a look at the vampire. He showed nothing, not even a frown to give away displeasure. He could pass for a corpse. Lucas was impressed at the kept composure. He could feel the slight shake to Kiernan's form, giving away his true state, and if he dared to lay his palm on his chest, he bet Kiernan's heart would be beating wildly.

Sticking a hand in his pocket, Lucas found his lighter. Flipping it open, he lit the tip of the cigarette. His gaze never left the man who was taking off his mask.

The man was a vampire. Nothing special. They always gave off an aura of perfection. Perfect predators. This guy was like any other: handsome and giving off creepiness in waves.

The towering vampire turned away to hand his mask to another vampire, Lucas's instincts told him, who leaned over the side of the bar.

The man frowned when neither of them answered. Not that Lucas was prompted or acknowledged. He felt like dirt under this guy's shoe, and if he weren't shot, it would have been the man's last mistake if he tried anything, which he would. Lucas could see the hunger in his eyes.

The overwhelming vampiric tension in the air made Lucas shiver.

The man snapped his fingers in front of Kiernan's face, frowning. "Boss. Are you in there?" He looked at Lucas, arching a brow and giving Lucas a once-over that made his blood boil.

Lucas flashed his teeth with a bloody smile.

The man tilted his head in that creepy way vampires do when they're thinking deeply and said curiously, "You're not Kenneth Rainer."

"Nope," Lucas replied, and he returned to smoking.

Then, as if he'd dreamed the fear he saw in Kiernan's gaze, the vampire said coolly, "I texted Gabriel." He enunciated every syllable of the name. "Where's Madoc? He wouldn't have sent a cretin like you to retrieve the boy."

The towering vampire grinned and laid a hand over his heart in mock pain. "Ouch, boss. He did send me." His blue eyes swept over what Lucas assumed were the other vampires standing around the room. He could hear low murmurs and faint shuffles. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

There was a quick, nearly unnoticeable flick of the vampire's gaze fixed on Kiernan, up, then down.

Lucas heard the hitch of Kiernan's breath. He wasn't a vampire, but he could sense the unseen scale of power being tipped in Dallas's favour.

The silence was profound.

A pin could drop, and they'd hear it.

"Dallas," Kiernan growled, gripping the edge of the bar and rising. He fixed his gaze on Dallas and closed the space between them with confident strides.

Kiernan might have had to tip his chin to glare the vampire into submission, but the height difference meant nothing. And Lucas was reminded that Kiernan wasn't catlike, not like a lot of the other vampires he'd met. The guy was a brawler. He was no stranger to splitting his knuckles. Dallas must have been reminded too, his expression darkening.

No longer smiling, Dallas gestured over the bar. "Madoc is here, boss."

Boss. Boss. Boss.

Lucas wanted to rip Dallas's tongue out and make him choke on the word. He said it like it was a joke. He might get to witness Kiernan do it soon. Every time the word was spoken, the vampire's fingers flexed.

Kiernan's gaze swept the room. The bar blocked his view, so Lucas watched Kiernan closely for any reaction but got nothing. The vampire could have been staring at a bazooka pointed their way, and Lucas wouldn't have known. Kiernan was a statue.

Lucas had to agree with Kane. It was creepy.

From out of sight, a man said, "Kiernan." Lucas thought he heard a twinge of pity. "We're here. All of us."

"No," Kiernan growled, glaring at the unlucky bastard who'd earned his rage. "You're mine, Madoc. All of you are mine. My men. I give you orders." He doesn't look at Dallas, gesturing to the vampire dismissively. "What did this idiot promise you, power? He has none. He's nothing."

Kiernan placed a palm on Dallas's chest without looking back, and shoved. It only caused a slight stumble, but the vampire's eyes narrowed dangerously. 

Lucas bent his knee, and pain erupted. He would need to stand soon. He saw that truth in Dallas's darkening gaze, fixed on Kiernan.

A nervous voice replied, "We're here on Gabriel's orders."

Kiernan scoffed. His gaze was dark, and Lucas had to resist the urge to rise. He'd met vampires and killed more than a few, but wrathful Kiernan was on another level. He made the room impossibly small and suffocating.

"Tell me what Gabriel's ordered, Madoc, word for word."

Dallas tried to cut in, but Kiernan raised a hand, silencing him. Lucas laughed, smoking. Kiernan hadn't looked at the vampire towering over him once, and it was driving the guy nuts.

He was about to die, but at least he got a good show beforehand.

The man Lucas presumed was Madoc responded, "We've been sent to retrieve his son. Kill Alma Sinclair and all witnesses." There was a pause, and Lucas shuddered with the palpable rage Kiernan was emanating in suffocating waves. "We've been told to bring you back to Fawnhill."

Kiernan said coolly, "By any means."

"We know that you won't fight us," another man said with a nervous laugh. "That's why we volunteered."

There was a chorus of murmured agreements.

"I'm not a boy," Kiernan snapped. "I don't need you to escort me." He fell silent and, for a long moment, blinked at the bar top, looking shaken. "I don't want to return." He steeled his gaze, glaring at the vampires Lucas couldn't see, and reiterated steadier, "I'm finished. I'm not coming back."

A man piped in, "You're turning your back on the coven?"

"He's not," Dallas assured.

Kiernan growled through clenched teeth, "Shut up."

Dallas scoffed and snatched the gun from Kiernan's grasp, placing it on the bar out of reach. He smiled lopsidedly at the cold glare he received.

Kiernan made no move to rearm himself.

Lucas had seen Kiernan in a fight, he didn't need a gun to kick ass.

Silence followed.

Madoc broke the quiet. "Gabriel said you might not be in your right mind since... Kenneth Rainer. You would never leave. Not you. Let us help you."

The angry voices that rang out had Lucas tensing. They're blaming magic. He didn't know how, but vampires could look at someone and tell if they were a mage. He was fucked. They weren't being subtle when calling for Kane's death.

"We want to help you," Madoc assured.

Kiernan slowly looked at Dallas. Something was being spoken between them in those silent seconds. "Not in my right mind," he whispered with a slight shake of his voice. "Is that the story?"

Dallas held Kiernan's gaze and his smile faltered. Whatever was passing between them was dark and heavy. Then Dallas inhaled tiredly, looked over the bar, and snapped his fingers toward Lucas.

"The mage. Deal with him," Dallas said, and Lucas laughed. Dallas looked at Kiernan. "It wasn't a question of whether you wanted to return. Gabriel's orders were clear." He frowned, but his eyes were hungry. "If you're difficult, I'll take you by force."

Kiernan glared, backing away. Not out of fear, the fighter in Lucas knew it was to keep his distance from the towering vampire.

"You can't fight all of us." Dallas hummed, and the condescending pout he made would have had his teeth knocked out and his jaw broken if Lucas could stand.

Kiernan's back hit the grooved edge of the bar, and he glanced over his shoulder, toward the sound of footsteps approaching. 

Every thud of his coming death against the tiles had Lucas's heart thudding faster.

Dallas asked, "So, boss, what will it be? Easy, or hard?"

Lucas watched Kiernan slowly look back and up to meet Dallas's hungry gaze.

Suddenly, their height difference was significant.