Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

I quickly lifted the old antique shield on the wall. It hovered in the air for a second; the weight impressive and it took a lot for me to will it with my mind.

Tye saw it and ducked to the right, but I expected the reaction. The shield slammed into his chest and pinned him to the floor. I heard a clatter as he shoved it aside.

My breath stopped when Abby’s fingers touched my skin then curled around my wrist.

I closed my eyes at the contact. This was all I could give her. Everything within me said to protect her. I could do no other.

“Remember, Abbs. You fuckin’ remember the blood you taste this night. My blood. No one else’s. Stay strong. Don’t give up on me.”

Her eyes darted from my wrist to my face and locked on me. Tears pooled and something else… hesitation. As if she was afraid to take my blood. There was no choice.

“Do it!” I ordered.

“Damien,” Tye shouted.

I sucked in my breath as her fangs pierced my wrist. Then her cool lips caressed my skin as she drank from my vein. I watched her, head bent, fiery-red hair hanging over her face as she bent over my arm.

“Baby, you belong to me,” I whispered. She’d never be Liam’s. Never.

The air shifted and I knew my time was up. My wrist ripped from Abby’s mouth as Tye slammed into me and we flew through the air, landing hard on the cement floor. Then his fist plowed into my jaw.

I didn’t fight. Even when he punched me again. My eyes were on Abby with her hands on the bars, watching me, eyes wide and mouth quivering. A drop of blood, my blood, trailed down her chin.

Tye straddled me, his scowl fierce. Then he hauled back and punched me in the jaw a third time. “What the hell were you thinking?”

I didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. I did what I had to.

“Christ. Waleron is going to put you in Rest for this, asshole.” He jumped off me, but he held out his hand.

I took it and he hauled me to my feet. “Don’t tell him.”

He snorted. “No choice.”

But there was a slight hesitation as he glanced over at Abby then back to me. I knew he wouldn’t say anything. He saw it. He sensed it.

It was undeniable. Didn’t matter that she was a vampire and I was a Scar.

Love had no boundaries.





I HAD NO IDEA what was planned for tonight, but Liam was prepared for something. He obviously had warned his vampires of my ability and none of them touched me, although three surrounded me as we walked in silence through the deserted exhibition grounds.

There was no sign of Jasmine or the CWOs, but I suspected they weren’t far. I didn’t think Liam would go against the Scars without her, but he seemed pretty damn cocky about tonight.

Dark shadows of Liam’s underlings were on top of the buildings, alert and ready. He walked with confidence. I didn’t. I tried to, but my nerves sparked off and my heart pounded so hard I knew every vampire within a hundred feet of me probably heard it.

Liam stopped at a metal door and stepped aside. A vampire moved forward and broke the padlock with one yank, ripping the chain off. It fell to the pavement with a clatter. The vampire, along with three others, entered leaving me, Liam, and four vampires outside. We waited several minutes before the door opened again.

“After you, my dear.” I hesitated and Liam grabbed my elbow. “I have no objection to hurting a woman.” He shoved me forward and I staggered into the building.

The instant I walked into the deserted warehouse, I smelled the remnants of food, mostly meat, deep fried meat mixed with stale air. Liam had probably picked this place because the smell of food would hinder the Scars’ scenting abilities.

It appeared like a warehouse with a high ceiling with metal beams. Beams that had movement, and I was guessing the movement was vampires.

Were the Scars going to fight Liam? Would Kilter be here? Was he okay? God, please let him be okay.

A piercing screech erupted and I cried, bending and putting my hands over my ears.

Liam yanked my arms down and pushed me forward. “High frequency makes telepathy difficult. Only dogs and, of course, Scars, can hear it.”

The constant high-pitched buzz threw off my balance, and I tried to block it out with my shields, but all I managed was to dull the sound.

Liam stopped by a long, rectangular, wooden table with benches on either side. I stood beside him and his vampires formed a protective semi-circle around us on either side and behind.

Another door creaked open then slammed shut.

“Behave yourself,” Liam warned.

I had every intention of behaving myself. Unless the Scars fought, and then all bets were off. I’d fight with everything I had.

The steady sound of booted feet came in our direction; it was dark, but my vision had improved since gaining weight.