Greer nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. It wasn’t the first time he’d taken the woman in his arms. As a child, she’d loved being held, up until she was twelve or so. Then, he’d sporadically carried her just to speed things up. There wasn’t anything incongruous about it at all. And yet Alexius felt odd, as if he had no business touching her.

The uncomfortable walk didn’t last more than one of her heartbeats at vampire speed. He got her to his small infirmary, setting her up on a cot before resuming his examination.

The scratches left raw and ugly gashes that troubled him. “Any other wounds?”

She shook her head. “No, I managed to shield myself after he grabbed me. It happened so fucking fast. Vampire fast, even.”

“It’s all right. You did the smart thing and hid until you had help. I’m going to go big, just in case, and use elixir.”

She blinked. “For a scratch?”

There were three long claw marks on her skin; she was right that it shouldn’t have alarmed him like it did, but he didn’t know a thing about zombies, and that made him feel unsettled.

Elixir was one of the few concoctions that could honestly heal anything. Alexius wasn’t capable of making it himself, however there was an immortal muse in France who could brew them. He bartered with her every other century. He’d tried to replicate it for a long time, and always failed. Most of the ingredients were quite literally out of this world. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that there might even be a few drops of godly blood in it. Which would explain why she could concoct it when he couldn’t; as a pure enlightened, she could use her own blood.

Surely that was technically cheating.

“Better safe than sorry. You matter a great deal, Greer. To all of us.”

She was the last of the Vespians, the clan of witches who’d founded the wards around Oldcrest, who’d locked insane, insanely powerful Eirikr in his cave. If she died without an heir, they were all standing to lose a great deal. Eirikr would be freed. Their world would cease to be hidden from the rest of the planet.

There were other witches who could build wards for them, although none would be as powerful as the ones currently in place. They might not work against powerful sups. And witches could have agendas; there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t betray them some day.

As such, some might have been tempted to lock her up and force her to procreate. Alexius and Levi knew better. Antagonizing Greer would be suicide.

She might not even realize it.

She’d come to them by herself at five years old. A little girl sleepwalking right to Oldcrest, from wherever she’d been before. She’d stunk of fire, ashes, death, and blood. There was no doubt that her clan had saved her from whatever fate had befallen them, and sent her to the one place they knew she’d be safe. When she’d awoken, frightened and confused, surrounded by vampires she didn’t know—potential threats—she lashed out at them with everything she had. Alexius wasn’t proud of it, but he absolutely had his ass handed to him by a five-year-old. If she’d known how to kill vampires, there might have been a body count that night. Seeing as she didn’t, she just knocked them on their asses and broke a few limbs before Levi restrained her. No small feat, at five.

They’d known then trying to control her wouldn’t end well, so instead they’d treated her like what she was: an equal. A precious part of their little world.

They needed her to have a child someday. Or live forever—that would work too. Trying to force her into anything? No way.

Using elixir on anyone else might have been ill-advised, but for her, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do. He was bound to this place, and this place depended on her. Besides, he liked the kid.

“All right. Let’s get high, then.”

He laughed. Elixir did have that side effect.

“I won’t hold it against you if you say something ridiculous. Much.”

Eirikrson

Chloe blocked a blow directed right at her head with her two forearms; the next moment, out of nowhere, a kick to the stomach knocked the wind out of her. A feral growl came out of her. She wasn’t hurt much—the zombie had hurt her pride more than anything else. Just annoyed as hell. “Will this thing ever die!”

She refused to call it Easton. There wasn’t anything of the quiet huntsman left in the creature they’d cornered.

After following the faint rotten scent of the undead, they’d found it lurking in the boiler room. He’d been sniffing droplets of blood Greer, no doubt, had cleverly left on the floor to distract it before going to her hiding spot.

Chloe might not be the most experienced out of the fighters in the room, but she’d considerably improved under Cat’s tutelage. She could kick ass. So could Levi, Ruby, and even Luke, though fighting wasn’t the assistant’s favorite thing. Yet the damn zombie was holding its ground against all of them.

Mostly because it seemed to be invincible.

Levi had administered the first fatal blow, thrusting his fist through his ribcage and pulling his heart out. The zombie shrugged and walked it off. Then Ruby jumped at its shoulder and literally tore his head off of his shoulder. No luck. The headless, heartless thing still came at them, with full vampire speed and strength.

“The arms and legs,” Luke said. “If we pull them off, it can’t really do much damage.”

One would hope. Seeing Levi dash for the creature’s right side, Chloe went left, Ruby on her heels. Though it thrashed against them and kept kicking and punching blindly, they all got a hold of one of the limbs of the creature and ripped them out in sync.

The severed limbs were on the floor, quiet and still. For all of two seconds. Then they started to move, each in a different direction.

“For Christ’s sake!” Luke yelled.

Chloe scowled. Gross.

At least there was only a minimal amount of blood; it had coagulated and been refrigerated.

Chloe pinned the arm she’d just amputated under her heel, keeping it firmly in place. “The head.” She looked around, confused. Where was the damn head? It couldn’t have moved by itself.

Now that she paid attention, one of the arms was missing too.

Shit.

“It’s trying to get away. We need to find a way to destroy it.”

“The pieces need to be a lot smaller, so they can’t do damage.”

“I’ll go get the chainsaw,” Luke offered. No doubt to get the hell out of there. Chloe couldn’t blame him.

A high-pitched yell got their attention before Luke had a chance to make his escape.

Chloe grabbed the writhing arm—better to keep it where she could see it—and rushed toward the sound, to a clean, white space that looked like a fusion of a hospital room and a witch’s shop. Greer was perched on top of a small bed, concentrating, hands reaching out in front of her in a way that indicated she was doing magic, while Alexius stood in the center of the room, a blowtorch in hand, blasting the arm and head.

Chloe wrinkled her nose; burning flesh was never pleasant, but there was a rotting undertone too. “That stinks.”

Levi rubbed her arm. “We’re going to have some more of that stench in a moment, I’m afraid. Burning the corpse and scattering the ashes sounds like a good idea.”

Alexius threw the blowtorch aside. “Awesome. Let’s get a dumpster fire started. This is taking too much time. And I need a drink. Greer, can you immobilize the rest of the body parts?”

Chloe grinned as she watched the witch enchant the arms and legs, aware that it made her look like a psycho.

A year ago, she’d been in NOLA. Working for a vampire, certainly, but her life had been as mundane as it got. Now she was holding a severed arm, having a conversation about cremating a zombie as casually as if they’d been talking about the weather.

And she had her gorgeous, sexy, powerful mate by her side.

All things considered, life was pretty awesome, these days.

They put the remains into a black body bag, and headed back home to the hill.

“I say we burn it in front of my house. I can stay at Levi’s tonight so the smell won't bother me.” She’d started to see the dark, intimidating manor at the top of the hill as hers recently, after redecorating the master bedroom.

It wasn’t bad at all, though a little too big for one person. She and Levi alternated between sleeping there and in his place. If they had to pick a permanent residence, Chloe wanted it to be the Eirikrsons’ place, for all the reasons the others had told her when she’d been reluctant to use it at first.

It was a seat of power. All feared or respected it. And it had to be occupied, because if it wasn’t, she’d look like a little girl, too scared to claim what was hers, which would only invite challenges.

Many considered themselves her enemy for the simple reason that she had Eirikrson blood in her veins. Fewer among them would act if they believed they were fighting a true monster who’d murder them and feast on their blood if they dared try to hurt her.

Which was exactly what she was. She liked living, but it was more than that. For the first time in her life, she genuinely couldn’t afford death.

She’d always had friends, being naturally good with people—well, sups in any case. Still, there had been a wall between her and them; she’d been different, confused and conflicted about her own nature, which had made her keep a part of herself hidden. Her relationships with others had been skin-deep because of it. Now, she had more to lose. She had family; not just her brother, who’d re-entered her life, but Gwen, Blair, Cat, Jack—even the ridiculous and flamboyant Seth. And Levi. Always, Levi.

If anything happened to her, each and every one of them would truly suffer. They were her clan. So she’d fight for them—to protect them from any threats.

Death wasn’t an option.

They burned the body and headed to Alexius’s, who had the best bar, now that Anika was gone.

Levi sniffed the air tentatively. “Do I smell bacon?”

Alexius sighed. “I’ll get the stove started, shall I?”