“Yes.” Stryke didn’t feel the need to elaborate. They wouldn’t trust him. Stryke would abandon his home—had already—and this place. He’d leave everyone. Fuck them all. Stryke’s only concern was what Zoey thought about him. But where he lacked the willingness to muster compassion and caring, it was part of her identity.
Sylva’s mouth pulled down and the males’ energy swirled with distrust, even Demetrius’s.
“So that’s it. I’m out?” Zoey demanded. “Tell me so I can quit wasting my time here.”
John waved her words away. “No one’s made a motion to remove you—yet. But Zohana, your seat is precarious. We can’t have,” he glanced at Stryke’s horns, “outside influence among us when our people are being corrupted from the inside.”
“I agree.” Zoey relaxed slightly, a bad sign for Stryke. Would she toss him for this crew? “Like it or not, I am a target and anyone close to me is, too. The Circle seeks to use Stryke to get to us and bolster their own power. Whether he’s with us or working against us, we can’t let Hypna or the others breed him.”
“This Quution,” Sylva interjected, “what are his plans for Stryke?”
Stryke repressed a snort. “Death.”
“Kill him or kill Hypna,” Zoey added. “According to Quution, he’s not picky.”
The panel fell quiet and studied Stryke.
“Can you fight Quution?” John asked.
“Yes.” Again, Stryke wanted to scoff. I already have. “But he won’t take his full form in this realm. I’d have to go to the underworld, where I’m at a severe disadvantage since, you know, it’s me against everyone down there.”
Sylva waved off their conversation. “I want to know about the bond.”
Icy tendrils spread along Stryke’s veins. Dammit, not them, too.
“I agree.” Demke pinned him with his sharp gaze. “We aren’t going to work with you until we know your motivations.”
“My only motivation is Zoey’s safety,” Stryke said tightly.
“But,” Sylva was a damn dog with a bone, “you’re a second-tier, yet you possessed a prime. It’s my understanding your level of demon couldn’t do that even with the host’s permission. Were we mistaken?”
“No.” Tension mounted in Stryke as foreboding swept through him. Zoey had taken a step back, wanting the same answers he’d refused to give her. He still refused, couldn’t hurt her like that. “I can capitalize on a host’s weakened mental state, attach myself to the openings in their energy, and get inside. I often don’t take over the host but ride as a passenger to gather information.”
That would have to be enough.
“Mitchell and I were tight. How’d you possess him?” Demetrius asked as if he was afraid to know the answer. He should be, and Stryke was going to avoid telling him.
Stryke answered calmly. “He was fraught about his mate’s safety. The conflict between your mission and his family obligations wasn’t an easy one for him to overcome.”
Demetrius’s eyes gleamed with empathy. The male felt responsible for the demise of Zoey’s mate. That made two of them.
“Did you have anything to do with Mitchell’s death?” Sylva’s question snapped like a whip.
Zoey’s attention was fixed on him. Part of him wanted to be upset that she would think he would do such a thing to her, but the rest of him knew the truth. The longer he took to answer, the more hurt and suspicion built in her gaze.
Bile rose in Stryke’s throat. “No.”
A breath of relief passed through Zoey’s expression and it gutted Stryke. It was for her own good. She couldn’t know what had really happened. It’d ruin everything for him, for them.
The shifters adjusted in their seats and they exchanged glances. Stryke’s stomach plummeted. No, dammit. No.
“You lie,” Sylva said. “I can smell it.”
Zoey’s audible inhale cut through him. Forget getting tortured by Hypna, this was Stryke’s worst nightmare. Since he’d fallen for Zoey, his one goal had been to protect her. His life was dedicated to her and her alone. If she found out, it’d kill him—or she would.
They all watched him. He didn’t speak.
“Well?” Sylva demanded.
Stryke fantasized about ripping through her jugular with a horn, but the point of this trip was to get Zoey and her team to trust him. His mind spun for a suitable answer.
“Mitchell’s death was not something I could’ve prevented.” There. That was absolute truth.
The two shifters’ nostrils flared and Stryke held his gaze steady.
The quieter male, Demke, spoke. “Tell us what happened. In detail.”
Zoey went rigid. Sweet brimstone, this had to be hard on her. If he didn’t talk, they wouldn’t trust him and he’d lose Zoey. Inside, he screamed with frustration. Literally no good could come from the truth. The damage was done. Zoey thought Mitchell had died for his dedication and she was beginning to trust him. All of that would be undone if the Synod insisted on this course.
Five pairs of eyes watched him. Stryke might not have shifter senses, but even he could sense their patience was growing thin.
“Stryke,” Zoey said softly, “what really happened when he died?”
He would’ve risked imprisonment, but the way she asked…he couldn’t stay quiet.
He clenched his jaw. “Mitchell was locked in the room with the fire.”
“The lock had been busted,” Demetrius pointed out. “We thought it was from him fighting to get free.”
Stryke couldn’t bring himself to look into Zoey’s anguish-laden gaze. She was waiting for him to say more. Maybe he could still talk his way out of this. “The door wouldn’t open due to the heat of the fire.”
“Another lie.” Satisfaction glittered in Sylva’s gaze. Stryke’s mouth twitched to bare his fangs, but the hurt pouring off Zoey in waves took priority.
They’d gotten to the root of Stryke’s true interference, where he went from watcher to total takeover. He couldn’t say anything more beyond this point without either spilling the entire truth or spewing lies that he’d get called on.
But he couldn’t bring himself to reveal his ultimate deception. “Mitchell planned to escape with Zoey, and to hell with overthrowing the Vampire Council.”
Zoey recoiled, her hand flying to her chest. “What?” She shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t do that to me.”
Little did she know how often her mate had contemplated it, or that he’d done so since the very beginning. “He would’ve, but when he killed the two Vampire Council informants and tried to burn their bodies, his haste made him sloppy.”
“And the—” She swallowed. “And the lock. Are you telling me he could’ve escaped?”
Stryke finally met her eyes and they shredded what was left of his resistance. He’d tried to protect her from her mate’s deception. Letting all of his love for her shine through, he let the story roll out. “He killed the informants. They were onto you and he planned to squirrel you away and throw Demetrius under the bus. But he was too frantic and had no stake to ash them, so he tried burning them. The fire raged out of his control. If that door had opened, you would’ve been caught in the fireball, and Mitchell was going out of his mind with his survival instinct.” Stryke’s heart tore in two at the tears that shimmered in her eyes. “I pushed his conscience aside and locked the door, then smashed it.” Stryke almost choked on the next words because they’d rip Zoey apart. “Then I receded so you could say good-bye through the window.”
Her mouth dropped in horror. “I watched him die.”
Stryke took a step toward her. His stomach churned; he never felt sick like this. “You would’ve died, too. He was desperate to get to you, didn’t understand the danger he was putting you in.”
“I wanted to die with him.” She choked back a sob and pressed a hand to her temples. “Oh my… You killed him?”
Everyone in the room had long since faded; Stryke’s only focus was his bonded. She’d gone pale and her hands
shook. Disbelief stained her features, but realization was taking over.
His arms ached to hold her. It’d been tough enough when Mitchell had died and he’d gotten sucked back into the underworld. He’d had to leave her during her darkest moment. “Zoey, I know this is—”
“You don’t know anything,” she hissed and backed away from him. “You’ve taken everything from me. You stole my mate’s life, then you stole him from me.” She swept her hand toward the silent members of the Synod. “Now you’ve taken everything I worked for. I hate you.” She breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling, until she visibly calmed herself and straightened. “Release me from the bond.”
The world went still. Did she know what she was asking? There were no take-backs after removing a bond. “Zoey, I can’t—”
She moved too fast for him to track. A warm object snapped around his wrist. He looked down and cool air wafted over his face as the blood drained from it. The bracelet. Zoey had kept it and used it against him.
He could snap it off. His other hand twitched to do so. But as much as his insides were crumbling apart, he’d already done enough. If Zoey wanted to turn him over to the Synod, he’d respect her wishes. It was the least he could do. It’d be a long crawl back into her heart.
Her expression resolute, her body ramrod straight. “Remove. The bond.”
He couldn’t resist the compulsion, but he forced a few words out. “Once it’s broken, it can’t be remade.”
Her eyes narrowed, her resolve unwavering. “Do it.”
The undoing words spilled from his mouth as his brain screamed at him to shut the hell up and his heart cracked in two. He retrieved a knife from his belt, ignoring the guns suddenly pointed at him from the others. With slow precision, he sliced his hand to seal the spell.
Red drops plopped on the floor, the only sound in the room. Deep down within him, an empty hole formed. He was just a second-tier demon again, with no purpose but to be used by those over him. And without Zoey, he didn’t care. He’d had no purpose in his life before her. She was the reason he’d stopped coasting through life, uncaring of what went on around him, uncaring of everyone else.
A muscle jumped in her jaw and her throat worked as she tried to swallow. They were the only signs that crept past the hatred in her gaze. Her hate tore him apart.
His hold on the realm weakened as their bond dissolved. Zoey’s eyes widened slightly. She must’ve noticed his fading essence.
With a snarl that might’ve been half sob, she spun around and stormed to the exit. No one on the Synod said a word. Stryke prepared to go after her with all the energy he had left.
“Don’t,” was all Demetrius said.
As Zoey disappeared from the chamber, Stryke vanished from the realm.
Chapter Fourteen
Zoey stormed out of the Synod’s headquarters, and once fresh air brushed her face, she flashed back to the cabin’s kitchen.
Son of a bitch. Why had she flashed here?
Because the compound had too many people. They’d see her tearstained cheeks, get hit by the waves of fury and remorse cascading off her, and start asking questions.
She’d been too damn hard at work to have any other place to grab a little solitude. It was a good thing Stryke couldn’t follow her here. She hoped he had a bumpy trip back to the underworld.
A sob echoed in the room and she folded to her knees, unable to hold herself up.
She’d stayed until Mitchell’s last breath, until his body had crumpled and his ashes had been caught up in the storm of flames. The building’s sprinkler system had come on but couldn’t handle the inferno in the concrete room. She had been getting drenched while her mate had burned alive.
All because he couldn’t leave the room. Because he’d been locked in.
Save me, my ass. Zoey rocked back to her butt and put her head in her hands. Tears streaked down her face to hit the wooden floor. If Stryke had been so damn obsessed with her, he could’ve very well killed Mitchell on purpose. How did she know Stryke hadn’t set the fire?
A faint buzz feathered over her skin. She sniffed and looked up.
A sight that would’ve flipped her insides only left her seething with loathing and confusion—and melancholy. Stryke stood only as a hologram behind her. He must’ve used Quution’s trick to project himself here.
“Get out,” she snarled. “Go back to hell.”
Lines etched his face, his violet eyes filled with anguish. They probably matched her own.
When he didn’t leave, she glanced at his wrist. The bracelet was gone. He wouldn’t have to listen to her anymore.
Stryke followed her gaze. “You didn’t command me not to take it off. I ground it to dust.”
The logical part of her that was still functioning knew it was for the best. Whoever controlled that damn bracelet controlled Stryke, and in the game they played, that’d be dangerous. She glared at him.
She’d trusted him. And he’d deceived her all along.
“I’m sorry, Zoey.”
She snorted a laugh lacking all humor. “Now you finally apologize about something? Should I feel like it’s monumental and forgive you? Get. Out.”
His expression grew more haggard, his strong body almost withered, as if he lacked the will to keep his energy at the proper levels. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Perhaps one day. It truly was the only way to save you.”
“What about opening the damn door and letting him out?”
“Introducing oxygen to that kind of blaze would’ve killed him immediately and allowed the fire to spread.” Stryke squatted before her. Too bad she’d only cut through air if she attacked him. “One of the informants had been possessed and had abilities similar to Fyra’s, although much weaker, and fueled the blaze unnaturally. Mitchell might’ve won the fight, but he’d lost the battle.”
Zoey’s hostility faded, but not much. She didn’t want to hear what Stryke had to say because he made too much sense. Her words had been honest. She’d wanted to die at the time, and for a long time after.
“I had to save you.”
She sighed and her shoulders sagged. Rolling her neck back, she glared at the beamed ceiling, bitterness rising. “I guess you two have—had—that in common. It’s all about how devoted you are to me, but you both don’t—didn’t—don’t, whatever— You don’t see it’s just as selfish. How many have been put at risk because of me? First Demetrius and the rest of the team. Now it’s Grace’s family, Demetrius’s family, hell, even Lee’s death could be pinned on your single-mindedness.”
“How many others would be in danger without you here to protect them?”
Touché, bastard. Still didn’t make it right. Mitchell and Stryke had both decided to put her before others. Neither had asked her. How many had Stryke hurt to keep her “safe”?
“I’m not yours, Stryke. I never was.”
“I’m not giving up.”
She jumped up and stabbed her finger toward him. “I’m not losing my seat because of this mess Mitchell started and you finished.” Stryke straightened and gazed down at her, his eyes bleak. “Through all of this, nothing has changed. I’m not giving up until your kind is under control.”
“You will never get demons under control. It’s in their nature to deceive and take over.”
“I know,” she yelled. “Their nature is your nature.”
He winced at the truth in her statement and his image wavered. “I don’t care about my kind. I don’t work for them anymore.”
With a grunt of frustration, she stormed around him toward the stairs. “If you follow me around, haunting me, I guarantee I will find a way into the underworld and destroy you.”
He was on her heels, his energy dogging her. “I wouldn’t be able to get you back to this realm. When you forced me to break our link, it destroyed the bond.”
“Good!” She whipped around and her heart fractured at the hurt shining in Stryke’s eyes. She opened her mouth to… What? She didn’t know, bu
t his reaffirmation that their bond was well and truly destroyed…bothered her. But she had no time for words. A blast of hot wind slammed her against the wall. She kept her feet on the ground, but her brain rattled from the impact.
A deep chuckle resonated through the cabin. “Did I interrupt a lover’s spat?”
Quution was at the top of the stairs. Zoey frowned as she reached for her gun. She fisted her hand. The bullets would be totally fucking useless against Quution’s apparition. How could he be here when Stryke had fried the pathway behind him? But then, Stryke was here, so he must’ve forged another.
No wonder energy demons were on the underworld’s most coveted list.
“I’m just that strong.” Quution’s sinister laugh boomed again with her stunned expression. “Relax, strumpet. I don’t read minds. Your face and his see-through image say it all.”
Stryke crowded in front of her, blocking her from another blast. He didn’t need his corporeal form. His energy spread in front of her like a wall. Sparks crackled along Quution’s jagged-claw-tipped fingers. Stryke’s shoulders formed a shield as energy sizzled off him.
Was Quution planning an attack or trying to intimidate them?
Quution disappeared. Zoey spun around. That couldn’t be it. The male had to have more up his holographic sleeve.
And he did. He appeared in front of them, but as soon as he formed, Stryke’s hands flew up.
A sizzling blast crashed into the force field around Stryke. Zoey stepped away before she had to recover from an electrocution, but her progress stalled as she watched the energy get absorbed by Stryke.
Hellfire. Could he really do that?
Quution’s eye twitched and he straightened, almost seemed to catch himself, and slumped again.
Couldn’t he hold an upright position without slouching?
Quution smiled, his jagged fangs protruding. “Good trick. Try me.”
Zoey froze. Would Stryke lob an energy orb just to let Quution try and absorb it? Could Quution do it when he wasn’t physically here?
Stryke (New Vampire Disorder Book 4) Page 15
