Page 4 of His Eternal Temptation

“Good point. He’d have his coven.”

Who were permanently banned from the city. None of them should be anywhere near here.

Why the hell would any witch dying of a curse seek out the Valeros? This Lane person—who surely wasn’t a Blackburn—must’ve had nowhere else to go. Perhaps he’d been close by? Rowan had a reputation for helping people among certain circles.

This wasn’t usually what he helped with. How could he? Active magic, spells, and counter curses were beyond any vampire’s ability.

He and Kai arrived at Hunter’s clinic room, used to draw blood to stock the coven’s private supply.

Hunter had his back to the door, blocking the patient in the exam chair. The vampire-doctor’s previous career was in emergency human medicine, so it was no surprise he was doing all he could. “Why’d you come to Rowan for help? Where’s your coven?”

“I’ll take it from here, Hunter,” Rowan said, and Hunter moved out of the way, revealing Lane fucking Blackburn.

Even after ten years, recognition struck Rowan like an electric jolt. His senses prickled, and unease slithered along his spine, alarm bells ringing.

Lane returning after his coven had double-crossed the Valeros could be part of a trap.

“Lane Blackburn,” Rowan said coolly, “I told you to never return to this city.”

Lane’s expression crumpled. He was clearly dying, his skin sickly white, sweat lining his face, and shivers shaking every inch of him. So why did Rowan’s words seem to crush him?

It made Rowan feel rotten inside.

“Why are you here?” Rowan asked, doing his best to concentrate despite the confusing ache growing around the vicinity of his heart.

“To find you.” Lane closed his eyes, somehow making everything worse. He looked so much older than the last time Rowan had seen him. Lane had aged, but he’d only be in his thirties now.

He shouldn’t look like this. So broken.

“I’m here,” Rowan assured him, unable to suppress the urge to comfort. “What happened? What kind of curse is this?”

Lane’s eyes fluttered open. “Hurts. Everywhere. Can’t use magic. Maybe in my blood.” He shook his head. “Need to tell you the Hillman Coven is coming.”

Rowan stepped closer, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “Who?” He’d never heard of the Hillman Coven.

Lane met Rowan’s gaze with apparent effort. “Hillmans are coming for you. They have…plan. Take you out. Careful.” His eyes fell shut, and he went deathly still.

Rowan’s chest seized, the lights in the room suddenly too bright, and something within him snapped. Had Lane come all this way as he was dying, forsaking any hope of countering the curse, to warn him? Why?

“We can’t let him die.” Rowan’s voice nearly faltered, his nerves shot to Hell. What the Devils was wrong with him? He could handle anything with poise, but then Lane had always tempted him to act differently, like something about him scrambled Rowan’s better judgment.

“Whatever we do, we’ve got to hurry,” Hunter said, firm but without betraying any alarm. “His heart is slowing.”

Yes, Rowan could hear Lane’s faltering heartbeat with his own enhanced hearing. They had to think fast. This wasn’t the time to indulge emotion.

Wondering if this was a trap had been emotional. Old hurts rising to the surface. The Blackburns wouldn’t let one of their own die to further their schemes, not unless everything had changed, and Rowan couldn’t see Lane sacrificing himself. Not from what he’d known of the man before.

And what would be the point of this sacrifice? Nothing. There was no logic to it. No logic to any of this, and it threw Rowan off course. It was absurd for Lane to warn him after betraying him. To put his life in an enemy’s hands.

It was too much responsibility. How was Rowan supposed to save him? His need to do so clawed at him, yet he was helpless. Seconds ticked by, and Lane got paler, looking more like death than the vibrant man Rowan remembered.

No matter how much he’d grown to hate those vibrant good looks, he didn’t want Lane to die.

Rowan grasped at straws. “Vampire blood won’t stop the curse, but it might heal some of the damage and give us time for Nicole to arrive.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Lane said something about his blood. If the curse is targeting the magic in his veins, maybe we can suck it out.” Hunter’s expression turned shrewd. “I’ve never tried.” He was a much younger vampire, so it wasn’t surprising. Rowan hadn’t either in all his long years.

“I’ll do it. It’s my job, not yours.” Hunter wasn’t technically part of the Valero Coven, more of a consultant like the witches. But that wasn’t the only reason Rowan was reluctant to leave Lane’s fate in Hunter’s hands.