Chapter Four #2
“Sister Lilian was the Mistress of Novices,” Helena continued.
“She mentioned the codex several times during my novitiate period. Before it was stolen by hunters, it was created by a dozen vampire physicians with thousands of years of experience. Jonathan, if there is any way to prevent the symptoms of atrophy from worsening, it will be in the codex.”
He straightened. “That dusty, old thing could help me?”
Stealing it suddenly became his top priority.
Helena darted across the room and clasped Jonathan’s upper arms in a painful grip.
“Do not delay, brother. The hunters cannot keep the codex.” Her eyes were so wide that white was visible all around her glowing, blue irises.
“There are spells inside that hunters could use to trap whole nests in their havens. It is only a matter of time before they realize the power they possess, and then none of us will be safe.” Her fangs lengthened, and the muscles of her face twitched.
“Helena,” Cordon said in a warning tone.
Their brother did not allow fighting. It was one of the most important rules he had laid down after Marcus had retreated to Scotland.
“Do not fret, Cordon,” Jonathan said. He wasn’t afraid of Helena.
She occasionally became excited about healing herbs or a new poultice, but she was the least threatening of his siblings.
She didn’t even take her own victims, instead relying on her human familiars to do her bidding.
He suspected this was because of her previous occupation; she’d been a nurse before Marguerite had made her.
No, the only member of his nest he truly feared was his eldest sister, Seraphina. Whenever she was in the same room, he swore he could feel her poking through his brain with her long fingers. It made his stomach twist with unease.
“I won’t let you down,” Jonathan said.
Helena’s eyes slowly faded back to their usual brown. “The codex… The things we could learn from it…”
“Come, brother,” Cordon said. “Let us leave her.”
Jonathan nodded. Interrupting Helena when she was lost in thought would cause her to erupt into a furious rage. The only person who could soothe her when she entered that state was Lucina, who was presently occupied with responsibilities that came with being leader of the Wild Hunt.
They reached the foyer, where a servant presented Jonathan with his black overcoat and hat. He donned both, only for Cordon to begin buttoning his coat for him.
Jonathan swatted his brother’s hands. “Stop that. I’m not a fledgling.”
“The way you behave, I sometimes forget.” Cordon gestured to the empty foyer. “This has been your home for months, yet you still haven’t hired a valet.”
Jonathan scowled. “I am not a lord, like you. I do not need someone following me about.”
Both Cordon and Marcus had manipulated Queen Victoria into giving them titles, but Jonathan wasn’t interested in becoming a peer of the realm.
The attention that came with being a lord would only have distracted him from more fulfilling tasks, such as extricating vampiric artifacts out of the clutches of hunters.
Cordon grimaced. “It does not matter what you need. In this neighborhood, if you do not behave like the wealthy man you are pretending to be, your neighbors will notice.”
Jonathan ran the tip of his tongue along the sides of his fangs. Cordon was right. He’d been so preoccupied with watching Felicity this year that he hadn’t realized how much time had passed. It took effort, but he managed to bite out the words, “Thank you.”
Cordon’s expression softened. “The Sorrow hunters are dangerous, brother. Don’t treat this like another challenge.”
The implication that Jonathan was simply chasing bigger, more thrilling obstacles rather than doing what was best for the nest made his hackles rise.
Cordon was always bossing everyone around, even though he was only the third eldest. If anyone should have been in charge when Marcus was away, it should have been Seraphina, but she was too busy mourning her human husband after the man had flung himself out of a tower.
“I know what I’m doing,” Jonathan said. “If you disapprove, take it up with Marcus. He is the one who tasked me with watching the hunter.” Then he turned and stormed out of the house.
He’d walked several blocks before the anger faded. It had become far too easy for his nest siblings to rile him. Perhaps that was yet another symptom of the illness that had set fire to his lungs and sapped his speed.
Now that a potential cure was within reach, though, none of that mattered.
But there was no satisfaction in stealing from a museum with such rudimentary security.
If he was going to make Felicity suffer, she had to choose to confide in him.
Then his inevitable betrayal would cut that much deeper.
She’d already refused him once. Trying again would make her suspicious of his motives.
Unless he convinced her there was a bigger threat.
He slowed his rapid pace. That was it. He would create a problem for the Sloan House. One that would force Felicity to question the museum’s security.
Then he would swoop in and become the solution she needed.