Chapter Eight
The three of us escort Samuel out to a waiting limousine. Then Henry nods to Lucas and takes off into the night. Guess he’s stalking the neighborhood again for enemies. I actually have enemies. Sort of. How bizarre. Not a problem I thought I would ever have, but here we are. It’s good to be out in the night air. There are so many scents, sights, and sounds. A nervous sort of energy is running rampant through me. At least the horniness and hunger have calmed down for now. Or have they?
“Who have you sent for?” I ask, the moment we’re alone.
Lucas’s high forehead is full of furrows. It is a furrow farm. He still remains handsome as sin, however. It’s not just the sharp angles of his face. There’s something soulful and somber about his eyes. As if he’s gazed into the abyss once too often over the course of his long life. “You’ll see soon enough.”
The way I want to slap him in frustration. But I don’t, so bonus points for me. “Why did you change your mind about accepting the seat?”
“Did you know I’ve been in this town since 1862?”
“No.”
“I’ve stayed in places longer. But when I built this house, it was because I wanted to put down roots. I like the city of angels, and I have no intention of leaving,” he says, staring off down the dark and empty street. “Which means we need to start dealing with the problems here. Let’s get back inside. You heard what Samuel said, you need to stay out of view until we have more information.”
“What? No,” I whine. “I’m sick of sitting around.”
“I noticed.”
“You have no room to talk. You were playing with my hair for half of that meeting.”
Hands in his pants pockets, he wanders back into the house. “I was trying to soothe you. All of your foot tapping and fidgeting was distracting.”
“I’m not an animal you can soothe by petting.”
“Whatever you say.” He heads back down the stairs and into the basement. “You did well moving quickly through the house when Samuel arrived. I half expected to find an imprint of your pretty face in my kitchen wall.”
“I didn’t hit anything, thank you very much.”
“Then how about a game of chase?”
I pause. “What?”
“Go,” he says with a tip of his chin. “Stick to the belowground areas.”
“But I can’t outrun you.”
“You’re wasting time. Go.”
“Shit,” I mumble, and take off. Moving this way is a hell of a rush. Like my body flows through the house too fast to be seen. The world passes by in a flash, but my reflexes work just as quickly. I swerve to avoid furniture and walls and other immoveable objects.
I’ve never been a particularly sporty person. It’s been decades since I felt the thrill of moving at genuine speed. The sense of power and sheer fun of it.
Soon I’m standing in the living room of the underground lair, and Lucas is right behind me. Dammit. The living room is spacious, but still. Whichever way I turn, he’s already there, blocking me. And judging by the fang-filled smile on his face, he is enjoying this a lot. But hell, so am I.
He corners me against a wall, arms on either side of me, caging me in. “Skye, you’re not even trying.”
“I am, too.”
“You’re just going to give up and not even fight when I catch you?” he asks. “That’s making it a little too easy for me. We’re vampires, being hunted is par for the course. You need this practice. Try harder. Come on.”
I duck beneath his arm and run. And he lets me go. Of course, he does. There’s no way I could escape him otherwise, even with my amped-up abilities.
Lucas is old and strong and wily as heck. The next time he catches me, it’s with my chest pressed against one of the locked doors in the hallway. Because where the hell else was I supposed to run? As much as I might have liked, the door hasn’t mysteriously been unlocked, providing me with a handy escape. Nope.
“Let’s chat,” he says, pushing me against the door by pressing himself hard against my back. More than enough to remind me I am going nowhere without his permission. Also more than enough to remind me that he does, indeed, have a dick. “What I was wondering is, do you still hate me? Because I don’t think you do.”
“Still after the pity sex, huh?”
“You can talk.” His low laughter does things to me. Things that shouldn’t be allowed. “Skye, the scent of your sweet cunt…if I didn’t know better, I’d think your fingers aren’t quite up to the task of keeping you satiated after all. Now answer the question.”
“Keep your mind out of my pants.”
“Answer the question,” he growls.
“Do I hate you? I don’t know. You did kill me.”
“Well, yes, but I brought you back to life. That’s got to count for something.”
“Wait. What are you doing? Are you sniffing me?”
First his nose and lips press lightly against the back of my neck. The way I’m breathing so fast when I don’t need to be breathing at all is kind of awkward. Then the tip of a sharp fang is dragged over my bare skin, making me shiver.
“Lucas,” I gasp. “That tickles.”
“It tickles?” he says, sounding mildly outraged. But he steps back and slaps me hard on the ass with a grin on his face. “That’s it. Next time I catch you, I’m biting you. Go.”
“No. No biting.”
“I’m a fucking vampire. Biting is what I do. Now run.”
The hallway goes back into the hill, but all of the damn doors are locked. One of these nights I’m going to find out what he’s hiding.
His fingertips slide over my arm as I slip past him and head back toward the living room. How he toys with me. In the living room, I upset an expensive-looking vase, but he’s there, righting it before it can topple. Thank goodness. Through the basement and toward the stairs I go. Before I can escape up into the rest of the house, however, he’s there blocking the way. My hair flies in my face with the sudden stop, and I teeter on my toes.
“I said to stay underground,” he says in a stern voice. “Turn your ass around.”
I do as told and race past the furniture and wooden chests and wine racks. Not breaking a thing. Yay me. His teeth snap a warning near my ear as I circle the living room. Then his arms are grabbing me around the middle, and the jerk tackles me onto a Persian rug. But it’s a catch-and-release type situation, apparently. Because when I push up, he lets me keep going. Down the hallway and into his bedroom, where I try to shove the door shut in his face. Only he has a good grip and is pushing back, making my booted feet slide across the floor.
“You are not biting me!”
“So make me a counteroffer,” he says. “What do you think you have that I want?”
“Nothing.”
He laughs and the door flies open with a final push of his strength. I give up and head farther into the room. And putting the bed between us seems like a sensible idea.
He has, however, apparently decided we’re done playing. Moving faster than I can track, he grabs me and throws me onto the mattress so hard, I bounce. But he’s there to keep me put a moment later.
“Like I was saying.” He grabs my wrists to anchor me. The way he makes himself at home in the cradle of my thighs feels far too good. Then he repeats, “What do you think you have that I want?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
He smirks. “Now you know that’s not true.”
It is not absolutely thrilling having him all over me. My newborn horniness just roared back to life for some other reason. “Um. Let me think. I could give you texting lessons.”
“Henry already showed me that during the day when you were asleep.”
“How about social media? I could show you—”
“Pass.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Have you discovered computer games yet? I just know you’ll be a Stardew Valley fan.”
“Not interested,” he says. “I think I’ll take your mouth, instead.”
“My what?” I ask in a haughty tone. “I’m not giving you oral.”
He barks out a laugh. “Not what I meant.”
“Oh.”
“As if I would let your teeth anywhere near my dick without being first assured of your affections.”
I laugh.
Then, without further ado, he kisses me.
I am too startled to react at first. But he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth covers mine and his tongue slips inside, and huh. He really knows how to kiss. He traces my teeth and tongue, being gentle and demanding in turns. In no time at all, he seduces a reaction out of me, feeding me kisses deep and wet. The man goes straight to my head. No one has ever put this sort of single-minded determination into reducing me to a pile of mush. His body weighing me down and the firm grip he has on my wrists are my undoing.
It is heavenly having him this close. I can admit as much in the privacy of my own head. He kisses me deep and strong and true. Like nothing else matters. Like he’s been saving this up for nights. Which makes no sense. He’s rich and hot and immortal and could have anyone. While my standout attribute is my inability to keep my mouth shut and stop giving him shit.
And none of this explains why my legs are wrapped around his hips, holding him to me.
“I don’t remember my training sessions with Father being quite so handsy,” says Henry over by the door.
Lucas groans and raises his head. The way his nostrils flare at the intruders is pure pissed-off animal. It’s kind of thrilling.
“We shouldn’t judge,” says another male with a curious accent. Nordic, at a guess. He’d make a great Thor. All tall and built with long blond hair and tattoos. “Maybe he’s starting by teaching her wrestling. On a bed. With his tongue.”
“Where the fuck have you been, Benedict?” asks Lucas.
“Here and there.”
“You were supposed to be watching my back.”
“I had other duties to attend to.”
“What about me?” cries Henry. “I have valiantly watched over you for seventy fucking years. Where is the thanks!”
“I’m sure you did the best you could,” says the large stranger. “Even though you somehow weren’t there when Father woke. I am sure whatever you were doing was very important. There, there, little brother.”
“You’re the worst, Benedict. The absolute fucking worst.”
Benedict gives us a nod. “Feel free to return to your training. We did not mean to interrupt.”
“Of course, you realize he’s not really going to train her. Not anytime soon, at any rate,” says Henry.
“Why not?”
“He likes her soft. It’s part of what makes her an anomaly in his world.” Henry leans against the doorframe. “For example, she sleeps in his bed. Has done that ever since he turned her.”
“You’re kidding me?”
Lucas grunts but says nothing. And he stays put on top of me. Awkward as heck.
“When Father turned me, he threw me into his dungeon for weeks, leaving jugs of blood at the door once a night,” says Henry. “Wouldn’t let me out until I promised not to bite the staff or break any of his precious furniture.”
“He chained me to a tree,” says Benedict.
Henry’s brows reach for the sky. “He chained you to a tree? Are you serious? How have I never heard about this?”
“You talk so much, I hardly ever get a word in.” Benedict shrugs. “It was this big old oak. A very nice tree, but still…I had to burrow in the ground each day to stay out of the sun.”
“You chained him to a tree?” I ask in amazement.
“It’s a long story.” Lucas finally climbs off me and offers his hand. “He kept trying to kill me.”
Benedict nods. “I did, that’s true. Our king tasked me with cutting off the evil creature’s head. But Lucas liked how I fought and turned me.”
“The Middle Ages were rough. I thought a Viking berserker might come in handy.”
I blink. “Huh.”
“What did you do for food when you were chained to this tree?” asks Henry.
“Before dawn each day, he would stand at a distance and throw rabbits at me,” says Benedict in the same stoic tone.
Henry cocks his head. “What? Live ones?”
“No,” says Lucas. “That would be cruel. I’d already wrung their necks.”
“Let me just say again how sorry I am that we interrupted your training session,” says the big dude with his bass voice. “Would you like us to go away until you’re finished?”
“Shut up, Benedict,” says Lucas. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too, old man.”
This vampire must be almost seven-foot tall. He is huge.
“And this must be my new sister Skye, whom I have heard so much about.”
The word that enters my head when Benedict turns my way is curious . But it’s surrounded in a warm glow of a feeling. Like he’s happy to be here. Guess Lucas was right about my gift and its ability to grow. Seeing the feeling associated with the word could be very helpful.
“Hello,” I say. “I see vampires come in size extra-large. How did Archie not steal you for his guard?”
Benedict snorts. “He tried. Many times. I understand he’s no longer with us?”
“Father tore his head off.” Henry puts a Robert Johnson record on the player. “You know what he’s like when he’s in a mood.”
“He challenged me,” says Lucas. “Sort of. Let’s talk in the living room.”
Benedict wanders back down the hallway, getting comfortable on a fancy-looking French chair. Henry flings himself into an armchair while Lucas takes a seat on the couch. Choosing to sit beside me for the second time tonight—which is weird.
“I’m not going to misbehave.” I nod to the big old wingback sitting empty. “You can go sit on your throne.”
Henry laughs. “Father’s favorite chair does look like a throne, doesn’t it?”
“I’m fine where I am,” says Lucas, and nods to Benedict.
“Leilah will enter the city at sundown,” reports Benedict. “She and her people will immediately move to infiltrate The Boulevard Hotel. She anticipates having it under family control by dawn.”
“We’ll be there.” Lucas pauses. “Has she decided if she’s going to run the place?”
“She said she’d see how she feels,” says Benedict. “But between you and me, she’s been bored lately. I saw pictures of that hotel. It looks like shit. You know how she loves a good renovation project.”
I put up my hand.
“What?” asks Lucas.
“Who’s Leilah?”
“You’ll meet her tomorrow night.”
“But—”
“Later,” says Lucas. “Let Benedict finish.”
“What are you doing?” Benedict frowns. “That’s not how you raise a newborn. You have to nurture their curiosity and interest in this world they now find themselves in. How else are they going to properly adjust to their new life?”
“I was just saying that the other night,” says Henry, who is absolutely full of shit.
“Perhaps if you spent more time talking to her and less time doing whatever it was you were doing on that bed…” The look of much judgment Benedict lays on Lucas makes my night.
Henry nods. “Yeah, Father. Good point, Benedict. Hear, hear.”
“You’ve never even turned anyone, Henry,” says Lucas.
“Of course not.” Henry wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want that kind of responsibility. Ew.”
Lucas squeezes his eyelids shut tight with an expression of great pain. I do my best to hold back a smile, but I’m not trying very hard. Watching his own people give him crap is one of the true joys in my new undead life.
“Skye,” says Benedict. “The position of enforcer in our family is held by Leilah. She was a seamstress to a Persian princess and was turned in the 1300s.”
“Oh, I love this story,” says Henry, sitting up straight. “She challenged Father to this game. It was kind of like an early version of backgammon. Whoever won had to grant the other a favor. She, of course, thrashed him, and he had to make her a vampire. Isn’t that great?”
Lucas frowns. “She didn’t thrash me. I wanted to turn her. The woman has a mind like no other.”
“What’s the difference between an enforcer and an assassin?” I ask.
“Both of them are Father’s boot for kicking ass,” says Henry. “They basically do his dirty work. But an enforcer does publicly what an assassin does in secret.”
“How big is our family?” I ask. “What even is the vampire definition of a family, for that matter?”
“Not as big as some. Lucas is careful in who he turns, and encourages us to be the same,” says Benedict. “Our family consists of all those turned by Lucas, and then all of those who we turned, and so on down through the ages.”
“What positions do you and Henry hold?”
“He’s the court fool,” says Benedict.
Henry ignores the insult. “I’m courtier. My job is to deliver Father’s messages and negotiate with other families when required.”
“But since Lucas was sleeping and Henry was available, he has been working with me as a guard.” Benedict scratches at his beard. “Now that Lucas is awake, I am here to watch his back once more, and Henry will return to the job of talking at people.”
Henry scowls. “I don’t just talk at them. It’s more involved than that. Then there’s the whole spymaster side of things. I’m a very important person, Benedict.”
“Whatever you say, little brother.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” says Lucas. “I still haven’t decided if you’re taking over as spymaster.”
“What happened to the last one?” I ask.
Benedict says nothing, but his gaze jumps to Lucas.
“She was killed, unfortunately.” Henry winces. “It’s a sad story. Let’s talk about it another time.”
Lucas says nothing, but his frown game is strong. He stretches an arm out along the back of the couch and starts playing with a lock of my hair. Again. He winds it around one of his fingers and tugs—just a little. It’s like I’m his fidget toy or something.
“Do all vampire families work this way?” I ask.
“Not all of them,” says Benedict. “Not every vampire wants or needs community. There are loners and nomads out there. The sire bond can be broken.”
“There are vampires who just want to vibe.” Henry crosses his legs and swings his foot back and forth. “Live and learn and experience things. Not get caught up in all of the politics and wars. What we have is a more traditional model of a family. But it’s still common enough. The major families around the world all operate similarly.”
“Okay.”
“A lot of families break apart due to infighting. Or due to the sire being an overbearing wanker,” says Henry. “But Father doesn’t tend to impose his will on us in assholish ways. And we actually all quite like each other.”
“Yes.” Benedict nods. “Mostly.”
Henry throws a silk cushion in his face. Of course, Benedict catches it and sets it aside. He rises and heads into the hallway. “I need weapons. They make such a fuss at LAX when I bring them with me.”
Henry jumps up to follow. “I’ll be interested to hear what you think of the new additions I made to the armory. The man-portable missile, in particular, looks to be an absolute hoot.”
“We’re in the middle of a city,” says Lucas. “You’re not firing any missiles, Henry.”
“I am just going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Henry,” growls Lucas.
The man sighs heartily. “Yes, Father. Fine. No missiles.”
Benedict reaches above the frame of one of the doors in the hallway. With an old key now in hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside.
“The keys were sitting above the doors the entire damn time?” I ask in a not-so-nice tone of voice.
“Yes,” says Lucas. “Everyone needs access. This is, after all, a family home.”
I have nothing. Absolutely nothing. Also, I am an idiot.
“What’s that thing on Father’s face?” asks Benedict in his low rumble of a voice.
“I believe it’s his attempt at a smile.” Henry wanders into a room that can only be described as an armory, and we all follow along behind him. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”
It’s another large room with stone walls. But these walls are covered in neat racks of killing devices. Daggers, swords, spears, bows and arrows, and so on. There are also shields and various types of armor. In the center of the room are heavy wooden chairs and a large table with brushes and cloths to clean the weapons lined up neatly. Inside a display case is a silver axe with runes etched into the metal. And there are also guns…lots of guns.
Benedict waves a hand at them and says, “But they’re so loud and messy and modern.”
“I’ve seen you in a crowd wielding a broadsword, big brother. Now that was loud and messy.”
“That was all just a misunderstanding. We laughed about it later.”
“The people who still had all of their limbs attached,” says Henry. “Sure.”
Benedict just sniffs in disdain.
Vampires are violent by nature. I get that. We’re less removed from our food source than most humans. And then there’s all of the politics and infighting to consider. But this room is a lot. “There are enough weapons in here to start a war.”
“Or to end one.” Lucas stares at the axe in its case. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”