Free The Shadow's Son by Nicole R. Taylor

with all his strength, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.
    Sam burst into the bathroom when he heard the mirror splinter, holding his brothers arms behind his back.
    "Zac," he yelled into his ear. "Calm down. Whose blood is this?"
    He twisted out of Sam's grasp and pushed him out of the room. Turning on the faucet in the shower as far as it could go, the room began to fill with steam. He stood under the stinging stream of water, not bothering to take off the rest of his clothes and they soon soaked through. Desperately, he tried to scrub the dried blood from his skin as the grey tiles swam with red water. He had to get rid of the scent.
    Sam was back in the bathroom, his expression one of horror. "Zac, what happened?"
    He was still scrubbing his arms, refusing to look at him. "Get rid of it." But Sam didn't move, staring at him with some kind of pained expression. Horror . " Get rid of it !" he yelled again, blinking furiously through the cascade of water.
    He seemed to understand this time and began to gather up his discarded clothing and disappeared. When he came back Zac had curled up in the bottom of the shower, his head between his knees, the water still running.

 

 
    Sam didn't dare touch him until he'd cleared the bathroom and any traces of blood he found in the house. Whatever Zac had done, this reaction was new and it scared the hell out of him. He eased his arm into the shower and turned the faucet off, his brothers shoulders heaving with the mere effort of breathing.
    "He made me," he rasped, the sound of his voice muffled.
    "Who made you?"
    " Regulus ."
    Sam drew a sharp breath. They had anticipated his arrival, but not so soon. Truthfully, he had hoped that they had avoided the Roman from ever coming here when Aya left. What had he coerced Zac into doing?
    He didn't push him for more answers, instead coaxing him to stand, throwing a towel around his shoulders. "Dry off bro. It's all gone. I'll get you something to drink."
    Zac nodded numbly and shuffled into his bedroom, trailing pools of water. By the time Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, he was in dry clothes sitting in the middle of the floor staring vacantly into space. He knew this was his way of coping. To keep himself from going AWOL. Shutting down was probably the best thing for a vampire to do in this situation.
    He took the glass he was offered in a shaking hand and downed it. When Sam refilled it, he drank that as well, casting the glass aside.
    "I killed her," he whispered, his hands in his hair. "I killed her."
    "Who?"
    "I don't know."
    "Did he force you?"
    "He..."
    Sam waited. Zac had killed before, he would be a fool to deny it, but the last time was forty years ago. Just after he had deserted in Vietnam. His brother had run off and joined the US Army and whatever had happened to him there, it had finally driven him to make the choice to try and be better, to be something else.
    Zac grimaced. "He didn't have to."

     
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 
 
 
 
    T he cold, hard light of day woke Zac earlier than he would have liked. Groaning, he ran his hands over his face. Memories of the previous night came flooding back and he rolled onto his side, almost throwing up. All this pain and regret was eating him up inside. His humanity was eating through his guts like acid. How much more of it he could take before he snapped again, he had no idea.
    When he finally dragged himself from bed, he glanced into the bathroom. The floor was still covered with broken shards of mirror that sparkled in the sunlight flowing through the open windows. The water had dried, but there was a wet stain on the carpet where he'd flung his damp jeans the night before. What a mess.  Literally .
    Regulus. What was he going to do? He had asked him to join his sordid little network, to go and work with him. And do what? More killing? Pushing him onto that young woman last night had been the beginning of either forcing him into