7. CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
Drak
Vampires required very little sleep.
Humans needed between six and ten hours a day. Vampires were at full-battery power after two.
The blockhead bear and the unhinged fire mage snored in the living room. I took my phone out onto the balcony, closed the sliding glass door, and called my cousin.
It was already morning in New York, and I knew he’d be up with Fiorella. So I wasn’t rude calling him.
But I definitely needed insight. I needed help.
This was not going to plan at all. She refused to mate, so if we were apart for any length of time, I would get the Mate’s Ache and lose strength. But I also didn’t want to tell her—or about the Mate’s Ache. I didn’t trust this group of people and wasn’t about to expose my weakness or vulnerability to them.
When Omaera left to go for a walk, I was the first to leave and follow her. Her safety was my main concern, but also, the moment she left and the further she got, the more pain I was in.
It was a struggle to keep up with the bear whose strides were twice my own, and the fire mage who never shut up.
I needed a familiar voice. I needed guidance because right now, I didn’t know what to do.
My mate was in trouble. She had two other mates, and she refused to mate any of us.
What was I supposed to do?
“Good morning,” Howar greeted me to the sound of Fiorella giggling in the background. “How is your new mate?”
“She refuses to bond. Any of us.” I educated Howar on the three mates issue last night. “Any news on Lerris’s whereabouts?”
“None. We’ve assembled a council meeting for later today though. It would be prudent for our new queen to attend.”
I resisted the urge to laugh. “I will see what I can do to advise her.” I highly doubted Omaera would be interested in meeting with the other Realm leaders, considering she still didn’t believe, accept or want to be Queen of the Realm .
“She hasn’t mated any of you yet?” he asked with concern.
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours. Is that typical?”
Howar made a noise in his throat. “I mean . . . those that understand what the Mating Bond will give each of you, do it rather quickly. They know that their mate was not selected at random. The Fates do not work like that. We are carefully matched, which is why some have to wait centuries. But since she’s only just come into power . . . you may need to give her time.”
“How much time? Someone out there killed her father. She’s not safe. She needs the Mating Bond to protect her.” I dropped my voice down lower. “I need the Mating Bond to stop the Mate’s Ache. She left on her own last night and I could barely stand up.”
Howar hummed. “Yeah, the longer you let it go on, the worse it will become. It’s also going to be rough every time she leaves until then. Another reason why at least vampire mates bond quickly. Neither want to experience that pain or weakness any longer than they have to.”
“The bear and mage aren’t experiencing any loss of strength,” I said with disdain, turning around to glance through the sliding glass door at the heap of muscle and stupidity sprawled out on the floor with his crop top and tight sweatpants. The mage was on the couch, puffs of smoke drifting out of his nose as he slept.
“The mage will be experiencing something different. He won’t be able to touch another female without experiencing pain, at least until they mate. And as for the bear, I’m not sure. None of you will ever get aroused by another woman, I know that. The Fates are very strict in their mating rules, and making sure that mates bond.”
Turning around, I leaned against the railing of the deck and glanced over, down to the wet, empty street below. It’d rained again, but it wasn’t now. “Any more news on the mage I was interrogating?”
“And killed,” he said blandly. “Rella, darling, you have jam all over your chin. Bring Daddy a napkin so I can help you.” Fiorella made noises of protest. “There we go, Sweet Pea. Much better. Can I have a kiss?” Muah! “Thank you. Go find Mommy, she’ll help you get dressed.”
“I think you should put Raver on as my replacement. We both know he’s good. He’ll find whoever is ordering the vampire kills probably faster than I would.”
Howar made a non-committal noise in his throat. “It’s also something I’m going to bring up at the meeting today. See what the others have heard.”
Something niggled at the back of my mind. It was what the bear said last night about a way shifters can die.
“Your silence is telling. What is on your mind, besides the obvious dilemma with your mate unwilling to mate, and your rivals?” the King’s tone was tinged with mirth, but also concern.
“Is it true that a way to kill a shifter is to kill her cubs in front of her? That she will actually die from heartbreak?” When I confirmed Zandren’s statement last night, I was actually unaware of its truth. But I didn’t want to come off as ignorant. This was obviously something he knew, and who was I to argue with the hairy brute? I wasn’t surprised by his continued disdain for me. The tedious relationship between shifters and vampires was long-standing and well-known. But this bear was pricklier than most, and not afraid to let me know he’d rather have me for lunch than even try to get along.
Howar was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally said. “I’m grateful that’s not a way to kill vampires. And I don’t wish that kind of death on anyone. Why?”
“The bear said it. It’s apparently how his mother died. Her cub was killed—by a vampire—in front of her, and she died from a broken heart. Do you . . .” I cleared my throat. “Do you know how and when it happened? The bear is King Ryden’s son. So it would have been King Ryden’s mate.”
Again, Howar was quiet.
I didn’t like where this was going.
“It was not a good time for shifters and vampires. We were at odds more than we were on good terms. I wasn’t the King—my father was—and we both remember what kind of a racist tyrant he was. He hated that demons ruled. Thought shifters were primitive beasts that didn’t deserve a seat at the table. That they’re no better than dogs. Pets.”
“I remember,” I said slowly.
“Your father—my uncle—was his head of military, and—”
“Equally brutal, racist, and tyrannical,” I finished, my gut spinning with what I hoped to the gods wasn’t going to come next.
“I don’t really know what happened, or who instigated what but, Goliver, your father, killed Ryden’s cub—a young female—in front of Ryden’s mother, Leida Thorne, Queen of the Shifters. From what I understand, it was in retaliation for something. But because it was more of a cold war than anything else, there was some semblance of an agreement where children would be left out of the war. They weren’t coming after vampire children and we weren’t going after cubs or pups.”
“But my father broke the agreement.”
“He did.”
“And he killed Zandren’s sister and mother.” I was going to be sick. I spun around to look back through the glass door again at the sleeping beast spread out on the carpet with his hands tucked behind his head, his legs out long.
“He did,” Howar confirmed. “And it started a huge war. Many from both sides died—including your father and my father. That’s when I came into power. That’s when King Donovar came into power because his father died too.” He snorted. “Out with the old and in with the new. I hate to say it, but when Goliver did that, igniting the war, it culled a lot of the bad seeds from both sides. It allowed you, Donovar, and me to step up and change things. To broker peace. Which we’ve had for a hundred and twenty years now.”
No wonder Zandren hated vampires so much. Did he know who was responsible? Did he know it was my father?
“It was tragic, truly,” Howar said with sympathy. “But it yielded the best possible outcome.”
“I’m not sure Zandren or King Ryden would feel that way.”
“King Ryden knows what happened. He knows I’m nothing like my father and that you are nothing like yours. And we all know that Donovar was nothing like Jaxar. I’m hoping that Omaera will rule like her father—not her grandfather.”
“If she ends up ruling at all. She’s hellbent on abdicating or figuring out a way to not rule.”
Howar chuckled softly. “The Gods and their fates are stronger than any magic. She is the rightful heir and unless killed or properly challenged, she cannot relinquish her responsibility. If that was an option, I’m sure I would have considered it more than once these last hundred and twenty years.”
“She has an aunt not far from here and wishes to go see her today. She is the woman who raised her.”
“A human?”
“I think so? But maybe not, since Omaera had a strong cloaking spell cast over her until Donovar was murdered. So perhaps this woman is a mage and never told Omaera.”
“Name?”
“Delia Refera.”
“I’ll do some digging. What do we know about Omaera’s mother? Do we know her name?”
“We know nothing at all. Did you know that Donovar was with someone? I didn’t think his mate had come of age. That he was still waiting for her. ”
“That was my understanding too. Poor man, four hundred and forty, and still without a mate.”
“Okay, I’ll put out feelers and we’ll see what we can dig up. The demon world is more elusive and suspicious than all other species combined. So I doubt my inquiries will lead anywhere, but we can try.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang in there.” I could feel his smile through the phone. “She will mate you.”
I exhaled and hung my head, the guilt of what my father did to Zandren’s mother weighing heavily on my shoulders. “I hope so.”
I disconnected my call with the King at the same time Omaera came shuffling out of her bedroom. She still wore the same thing we’d seen her in last night—black booty shorts that barely covered her buttocks, a gray, ribbed tank top and no bra. She also still had the pale purple, silk scarf on her head. She was beautiful.
I watched her for a moment, knowing she may not be able to see me right away with the glare of the rising sun coming in through the big windows and door.
The way she yawned was adorable. The way she padded barefoot into the kitchen and robotically added coffee grounds to the machine, filled up the machine with water, and turned it on—all sweet. Then she opened the fridge and brought out a carton of oat milk before reaching into the cupboard to pull down two, then three, more mugs.
Even though she didn’t want us here, she was still courteous enough to caffeinate us.
Her noise in the kitchen roused the bear and mage, and although they moved, neither got up. They both just rolled over, opened their eyes, and watched her. Just like I was watching her.
Were they as transfixed as I was?
Probably. They were her Fated Mates as well.
A quick glance at the bear showed a ridiculously big erection, creating a ten-man tent in his tight sweatpants .
Either Omaera hadn’t looked up and noticed them watching her yet, or she was deliberately not looking. She continued to putter in the kitchen, preheating the oven to reheat the pizza and putting the leftover Thai food in the microwave.
I’d barely blinked. I was so mesmerized by her that when the sliding glass door opened and Gemma emerged, I grunted and averted my gaze quickly, as if I’d been doing something wrong.
“Ignore me. You all are anyway. I’m just out here to do some morning yoga before I head to work. All three of you are stupidly obvious, and a little obsessed, you know. Watching her like that. And the fucking boner on bear-man. Jesus Christ. You do know Maer is like five-foot-nothing. How is she even going to take that schlong if she ever decides to?”
A legitimate question I had asked as well when the whole three mates thing came about. Zandren was enormous and Omaera was petite. In fact, all three of us were over a foot taller than her, and though I couldn’t speak for the mage, I didn’t have a Vienna sausage in my trousers.
Gemma set up her yoga mat and began with some head-down poses.
I took that as my cue to return inside.
Zandren was now sitting up with a pillow over his lap. The mage was gone, but the bathroom door—yes, they had a second bathroom, not part of the one that connected their two bedrooms—was closed.
“I’m assuming since you’re all sort of human that you drink coffee?” Omaera asked, fixing me with a questioning look. “Unless you drink tea because all obnoxious British aristocrats drink tea .” She pinched her thumb and forefinger together and put it to the side of her mouth while raising her pinky finger like she was sipping from a china cup.
“I drink both,” I stated. “Coffee is fine.”
“Black for me, please,” Zandren said. “Can’t make it too strong.”
The bathroom door opened and Maxar stepped out.
“Coffee?” Omaera asked him.
He nodded. “Ten sugars.”
We all stared at him with confused looks—even Omaera.
“How have all your teeth not fallen out?” she asked. “That’ s disgusting.”
“I have a fast metabolism,” he said. “I burn it off in like twenty minutes. And I brush my teeth and go to the dentist. That’s how.” He glanced at me. “Who were you on the phone with outside?”
“The King,” I replied. “Asked of any news regarding Lerris.” I refocused my attention on Omaera. “The High Council has called a meeting for today, and it would be prudent for you to attend.”
She shook her head slightly. “Oh would it now? Would it be prudent ?”
Oh, this little demoness was testing my patience. I needed to keep her happy, though. If she got angry with me, she might try to fry my brain again.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. King Howar, Queen Anysa, and King Ryden are meeting today with their advisors to discuss the situation of King Donovar’s death, and your unexpected appearance and rise to power. They also wish to discuss Donovar’s murder, and who your mother was. There has been peace in the Realm for one hundred and twenty years. Since your father and King Howar came into power. I’m sure they just want to meet you and ensure that peace will continue.”
Her nostrils flared as she stared at me. “And who would be my advisor, or advisors? You three?”
“We’re not bad choices. But typically, mates don’t attend High Council meetings,” Maxar said. “Though, with Drak being Howar’s guard and Zandren being Ryden’s son, and me just being awesome, you’ve got a good team behind you.”
She smirked at his cocky comment about himself and pushed his coffee mug to the edge of the counter so he knew it was ready. He grabbed Zandren’s for him as well.
“Or we can help you find a suitable and trustworthy advisor. A demon advisor if you wish,” Zandren added, sipping his coffee. “Whatever you need.”
From where I stood near the kitchen, I could see her mulling things over. Her features relaxed, but her eyes still remained on high alert. I accepted my coffee mug from her. I didn’t take it black, but I also didn’t want to rock the boat and ask for cream. In due time. “Howar and I wonder if perhaps your aunt, this Delia, is a spellcaster mage. Perhaps she would be a suitable advisor since you’ve known her your whole life.”
Omaera snorted and made a face. “Aunt Delia a mage? No. I’d know if she were one of your . . . kind. ”
But we all shook our heads.
“Not if she was trying to protect you, keep your identity from being revealed,” I said. “Raise you as human.”
“And why would she do that?” Omaera snapped. “Why not tell me that I’m a demon? Help me with my powers so that when I come of age , or my father is killed, I’m not hit with a giant bolt of fucking lightning and nearly killing people by trying to fondue their brains?”
Gemma came back into the apartment. “Who’s fondueing brains?”
“I am, because they think Delia is a mage and kept my powers from me.” Her hand trembled as she brought her coffee mug to her mouth.
Gemma scoffed, reached the kitchen counter and accepted the mug Omaera pushed toward her. “Yeah, there’s no way Auntie D. is a mage or whatever. We’d know.”
It was easier for me to remain stoic than it was Zandren or Maxar. They both lifted their brows.
Omaera narrowed her gaze at them. “You think we’re that blind to—”
“Magical beings have co-existed with humans for centuries and you just found out last night,” Maxar pointed out, albeit gently. “We are experts at hiding who we really are. And if Delia was doing it to protect you, she’d be extra vigilant about secrecy.”
“We need to go see her. Get some answers,” Omaera said with growing impatience. She turned to her friend. “What time is your shift at the coffee shop?”
Gemma pouted. “It’s a double now because I took yesterday off to be with you. Nine to nine, I’m afraid.”
Omaera growled. “So I’m stuck with the Three Stooges all day?”
“They’re way sexier than the Three Stooges.” She sipped her coffee, smiling over the rim of her mug. “Still freaks like the Stooges, but at least they’re more fun to look at. ”
“I’m going to go get dressed,” Omaera said with a sigh, taking her mug with her. “You three can . . . shower, eat, or whatever. Just don’t make a mess.” She disappeared into her bedroom, making sure we all heard that deadbolt flick closed.
“Do me a favor, boys,” Gemma said. “Try not to piss her off, okay? Nobody needs flambéed brains, hmm?” She grabbed a yogurt out of the fridge, along with a banana off the counter, then took her breakfast and coffee into her room, shutting the door.
That left the three of us in the living room together again.
The bear, the mage, and me.
“Dibs on the shower,” Maxar said, jumping up from where he sat and taking his empty coffee mug to the sink.
I rolled my eyes.
“I need to find some food,” Zandren grumbled, finally prying himself off the floor and standing up. “I’ll be back.” He left out the front door, causing it to rattle the rafters when it slammed shut.
And then there was just me.
I needed food too. That bag of blood last night helped, but I needed actual food now. Preferably something with high iron content so that if Omaera continued to resist mating, at least I’d have some strength. I went to the fridge and opened it up.
Not much to choose from in the way of meat or high-iron veg.
The freezer, on the other hand, yielded a sirloin steak and some frozen spinach. That would work.
I was busy frying up the steak and spinach with some herbs I found in the cupboard when Omaera came out of her room. It was impossible not to stare.
My mate was . . . perfection. Her black skinny jeans had small rips in the knees and she wore a dark gray, very soft-looking, T-shirt with the name of some band I didn’t recognize. It fell off her shoulder on one side and all I wanted to do was sink my fangs into that creamy bit of flesh and hear her moan from the pleasure. Her earrings were little silver spikes that stuck out the same amount—about an inch—at the front and back of her lobe. And she had on the same black tennis shoes as last night.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” she snapped, but very little ire colored her tone.
I chose not to respond.
“What are you cooking?”
I glanced down at the cast iron frying pan. “Food?”
She grunted. “No shit, Sherlock. But why steak and spinach?”
“High in iron. It keeps up my strength.”
“You mean it keeps you from sucking people’s blood?”
Again, I chose not to respond. I didn’t need blood. Food was just fine. It just had to be iron rich. But in circumstances like last night when I was very weak, blood was better.
“Would you like some?” I asked.
“I don’t eat breakfast. I intermittently fast.” She poured herself more coffee.
Shrugging, I turned off the stovetop and moved my frying pan over to the cold element. Then I removed the steak to a cutting board so it could rest. My belly grumbled from the smell.
“Do any of you have cars?” she asked. “Because I don’t.”
“Not that she can’t afford one,” Gemma said, coming out of her room dressed in dark jeans and a red long-sleeve shirt. “She just chooses to walk or use public transit.”
“It’s better for the environment,” Omaera said, sticking her tongue out at her friend. “And let’s not forget that your parents and brother, and my mother, all died in car accidents. So the less we’re in those death traps, the better.”
Gemma’s expression sobered, then she leaned over and kissed Omaera on the cheek. “I know. I didn’t mean to tease.”
“Have a good day at work, Gem,” Omaera’s smile wasn’t real. She was rallying and putting on a brave face for her friend. “Text me on your lunch break.”
Gemma winked and nodded, then she made eye contact with me since I was the only one left in the apartment. “Remember, don’t piss her off.”
“I’m trying very hard not to,” I replied dryly.
Then Gemma was gone, and Omaera and I were all alone .
“Your accent is weird,” she said without hesitation.
“I was born in England and lived there for a long time. The dialects and accents changed over the centuries. I moved around, and each region has its own way of speaking. Then I moved to the States one hundred and twenty years ago to help Howar. So it’s a mix of all the places I’ve lived.”
“Hm,” she huffed, then didn’t say anything else.
“I’m sorry that your mother passed away,” I said, hoping that didn’t cause her to get angry.
Her frown tore at the hollow in my chest. “Thank you. I was only two weeks old, so I don’t remember her. But from what Aunt Delia says, she was . . . she was really something special.” She cleared her throat and looked around, sipping from her fresh mug of coffee. “Where is the bear?”
“He went out to find food,” I answered, deciding that I’d waited long enough and it was time to slice into my steak.
She nodded. “Is controlling my powers something that you can help with? Or just the mage? Or do I need to find a demon to help me?”
The fact that she was talking about getting help and control of her powers was a good sign. Did this mean she was accepting her fate as heir to the Realm? Was she also going to accept us as her mates?
It felt safer not to make eye contact with her, so I focused on slicing my steak into thin, even pieces on the diagonal. “I can’t unless we’ve completed the Mate’s Bond. I strongly urge you to agree to mate. It will protect all of us.”
“And bind us together for life!” she countered, her tone laced with an ire that worried me. “I just met you. You realize that? I’ve never even had a one-night stand, let alone a one-night eternal commitment.” I glanced up to find her staring at me with wide eyes. “Wait, am I immortal?”
“Well, you can be killed by decapitation—”
“But if, like nobody does that, then I’m going to live forever, right?”
“That is generally how it works, yes.”
“God, you’re so backhandedly rude, you know that? The sarcasm and patronization in your tone is exhausting.” A small pain in my brain made me wince. I needed to subdue her. If she got angry with me, she could kill me. Even though she was just coming into her powers, there was little doubt in my mind that she wasn’t an incredibly powerful demon. Even if she wasn’t the Queen, she would still be very powerful. Lethal. She needed to learn to control her powers before she did irreparable damage to someone she cared about—like Gemma.
I stared at her, gritting my molars in reaction to the ache in my head. “My apologies. I didn’t think I was being sarcastic or patronizing. I thought I was answering your questions.”
She batted her hand like swatting at an invisible fly. “Whatever. So wait, like if I’m a demon and going to live forever, did Aunt Delia—if she’s even a mage, which I still doubt—not think I’d start to wonder why I’m living longer than the average tortoise? Also, why are you like a billion years old but only look around forty?”
“A billion years is an exaggeration, right?”
Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. “Of course.”
“I am four hundred and forty-one. And we stop aging around the age of forty. So once we hit forty years old, we don’t look any older even though we are.”
“Well, then that confirms it. Aunt Delia isn’t a mage. She looks older than forty.”
I was anticipating her saying that. I held up a finger and chose my words and tone very carefully. “However, spellcaster mages can age themselves. They can cast spells to make themselves—or anyone who asks them—to appear older. And some choose to. There are those who wish to age, who wish to grow old and eventually die. Not everyone wants to live forever, and we have ceremonies and protocols around that.”
The bathroom door opened, and the mage came out with a towel wrapped low on his waist to reveal a torso of well-defined abs. He was bone-dry and steam flooded out of the bathroom and rose off him like some weird hot spring.
“Did you hotbox my bathroom?” Omaera asked glancing at the foggy space he just emerged from like a creature from some eerie lagoon. “You need to turn the fan on, dude.”
Maxar shook his head. “No. The water was cold. This is just what happens when water touches my skin. It steams off. ”
Omaera frowned and bunched her brows in a cute way. “Hmm.”
Rolling my eyes, I exhaled and dove into my steak. “I guess I need to eat, then shower before the bear comes and uses all the hot water.
Speak of the beast, the door opened and in lumbered the shifter. He’d ditched the red crop top and sweatpants and now wore an open flannel shirt and loose-fitting jeans. He was also licking his fingers.
“Where’d you find clothes this early in the morning?” Omaera asked.
Zandren washed his hands in the sink. “I picked the lock at the clothing store down the road with my claw. I’ll go to the bank later and take them money when they open. Then I went to the bakery for breakfast.” He peeled off his shirt. “But I’m going to take a shower now.” Then he plodded his way to the bathroom.
Omaera snorted and shot me a smirk. “Snooze you lose, Fangs.”
Oh gods, this was going to be a nightmare. An absolute bloody nightmare.