“And the casualties?”
Caster St. John didn’t like this feeling.
The frustration clawed through his belly, signaling he’d lost control of it all.
Control is what he did best. He always had it reined in, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.
But now, because of that monster of a witch, he’d lost it.
A headache synced with the rhythm of the noise in the room as everyone spoke at once, and the tight rein on his emotions snapped.
He hadn’t had a chance to feed since the witch’s attack, and that was five days ago.
He stood, pushing his chair back with more force than he’d intended.
The offending piece of furniture sailed through the room, breaking apart as it met the wall behind him.
He didn’t need to see it to know he’d need a new chair, but his over-the-top display of anger bore fruit.
The entirety of his council, more Born-Vampires in the same room than should be acceptable, were all dead silent, staring at him, awaiting his orders.
He tried to keep his voice calm. “I want the witch found. Now!”
Damien, his cousin and Head of Security for the Vampire Council, was the only one who would be unfazed by his commanding tone. “We are already on it. Riley is working a locator spell, but as he says, she’s not that stupid.”
The witch had somehow amassed enough power to deter the locator spells of the most powerful witch in existence.
Caster thanked the Goddess every day that Riley was on their side.
This would be much harder without him. Yet, even with him, somehow the witch eluded their extensive efforts to end her killing spree.
A killing spree that had lasted two centuries.
“And the casualties?”
“Three Born-Vampires and twenty Made-Vampires,” Zahara, his mother’s best friend and the Head of Health Services for the Council, said, her gaze on the papers in front of her.
“We’ve notified their families?” Caster asked her.
“Yes, we have,” his uncle, Mason, and the Head of Populations answered. “I also notified the Wolves as your father requested, but I don’t know why we would need…”
Caster opened his mouth to reiterate the treaty he’d signed with the Prime Alpha centuries ago to end the war between them, but Damien beat him to it. “You know the treaty dictates that we have to notify them of the threat, and they are obliged to help.”
Caster placed his hands on the sturdy table and leaned forward, meeting his uncle’s unflinching stare. “If that witch gets her way, we will be at war with humans. We have to prevent that at all costs.”
Tired of the back-and-forth and his need for blood close to unbearable, Caster sighed and pushed away from the table. “I want this done.” He walked out, his cousin Damien close behind.
Vampires didn’t need micro-managing. Everyone was clear on what needed to be done and went about their task, a fact that made his rule much easier.
Not that it was his rule. His father, the King, wanted him to take charge of the Council to gain more experience.
Caster wouldn’t be King for a while yet. At least he hoped not.
His cousin followed him through the expansive mansion as Caster made his way to his room.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring the wolves here?”
Caster sat on the couch in the sitting area adjacent to his bedroom. “Not you too…”
Damien raised his hands. “I’m just asking. Given how most vampires feel about the wolves, it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“We don’t have a choice, Damien. You heard Riley yesterday. The witch will not stop killing anytime soon. We have to bring the fight to her. It was negligible when it was a few humans, but the way she’s killing us is bound to draw unwanted attention.”
Damien sat across from him and sighed.
“We’ll have to manage everyone’s expectations. But if there was ever a time I needed Dean, it is right now.”
Damien leveled him with a stare he’d long learned to interpret as support and nodded. “I know.” Then he leaned forward. “But this is not your responsibility.”
A loaded moment passed between them, and unwanted laughter bubbled from the depths of his soul. Damien’s puzzled expression at his reaction turned into a familiar smile.
It didn’t take long for rare concern to overtake Damien’s smile. “I worry you’re doing too much. You know I’m here. Riley and I are.”
The headache that had begun in the conference room roared at him with increased intensity. “I know. It’s just…”
“Take a moment. Breathe. Maybe have some fun?”
Caster smiled. “You’re starting to sound like Mother.”
Damien frowned.
He stood, needing a shower before he went looking for nourishment. “And you should take your own advice. You work more than I do.”
Their familiarity with each other was such that Damien could stay with him as long as he wanted. He was more of a brother to him than his actual two brothers, who were much younger. “The difference is, I like what I do.”
He stopped at the threshold, turning to face his cousin, who looked as tired as he felt. “Who says I don’t like being Head of the Council?”
Damien shrugged, leaning back. “I’ve known you forever, Caster. You’re not fooling me.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and a rare vulnerability crawled to the surface, threatening to ruin the control he’d only just reined in.
“You think that your father is about to abdicate and you’re afraid of being in charge of it all.”
He snorted, denying the truth of his cousin’s words. “I am not afraid of anything.” Since he’d overheard his parents talking about it five years ago, the fear he was not ready to be king clawed at his insides every morning. But he wouldn’t admit it, not even to Damien.
Damien laughed. “Yeah. It’s me, Caster. Not one of your scurrying submissives.”
“I don’t like this conversation.” He walked into his bedroom, undressing as he went.
“I’m just saying. If that happens, Riley and I will be here to help. You don’t need to do it all on your own.” Damien didn’t need to shout; the significance of every word would find him no matter where he hid.
Still, Caster worried. He worried the witch would expose the whole supernatural community, and no one could tell him where she was.
Was the world big enough for one tiny witch, albeit a powerful one, to hide for centuries?
Her activities were sinister enough to scare the Grand Priestess of the European Coven.
She had to be stopped, and Caster would be the one to do it.
It was his responsibility. His duty, and Damien could never understand.