Chapter 8
Onyx’s POV
Devareaux Hautbois had not been at all what I had expected.
I had received the call from Devareaux asking for help to find his blood wife on a night that I was trying my damnedest to work my way back into my blood wife’s good graces.
It wasn’t working whatsoever. Devareaux needed help tracking down the Bloodless Parties.
His blood wife, Odessa, had been taken to one, apparently.
I had not expected the extreme reaction that Devareaux had demonstrated.
At the first warehouse where a party was actively going strong, Devareaux had stormed in and roughed up quite a few vampyrs.
He was a bit stronger that expected for an aristocrat.
Aristocrats mainly pranced around showing off their property or luxuries, but did very little physical labor or activities.
It was considered “unbecoming” of their status.
I had to fight a couple vampyrs, but only enough to follow through the crowd behind Devareaux. I could fight if needed.
But it was his response at the next warehouse that flipped all expectations on their head.
Devareaux had brutally attacked several vampyrs, and at least three fatally, by ripping out their hearts straight from their chest. Usually, when that was done, the victim had to be held down in place by at least two other vampyrs.
Devareaux needed no assistance at all. He looked unhinged while he was yelling at the remaining vampyrs to leave and holding the heart still in his hand.
I had moved to help release Odessa, but I had seen a haunted look in Devareaux’s face, so I had moved away from her.
He dropped the heart unceremoniously on the ground, unstrapped Odessa from the device, whispered something to her, and swooped her out of there. He had looked devastated.
During the drive back home, all I could think about was Dreya strapped up to a wooden plank, bleeding from cuts on her arms, beautiful red hair hanging down, limp in front of me.
I was horrified by the thought. Devareaux had already asked me to help him abolish bloodletting, but that had been before he found Odessa. Would he still want to proceed with it?
I didn’t have to wait long to find out, yes, he absolutely planned to move forward in having the practice abolished.
I was shocked, but honored to have him ask me for help.
I didn’t have the power or status he had to move such a rule forward to the Blood Council.
Maybe this meeting was destined to be. I had never believed the nonsense humans spoke on about destiny and fate.
But now, after both Dreya becoming my blood match, and Devareaux entering my life to help abolish a horrendous act taking place in the low blood born neighborhoods, I had to reconsider.
Two days after finding Odessa at the Bloodless Party, Devareaux and I were standing in front of a table full of councilmen of the Blood Council.
The Blood Council had been appointed to ensure vampyrs remained hidden from human society, and generally maintained the rules.
It was like any other governing body in the world, trying to maintain legal stability and regulation of your people.
The only council member I was aware of by name was Draman Beauchamp.
Draman was well known in the vampyr world because he had been one of the few to outlive his blood wife.
He had been lucky in that she had saved some of her blood, “just in case.” Draman had become the Lead, meaning he was the one who organized and maintained structure and timelines within the Council.
When we had come before the Council, Devareaux spoke.
“My blood wife, a low blood born, had been kidnapped and taken to one of the Bloodless parties. These acts are an abomination to our kind and should not be allowed to continue. They need to be policed and those involved, punished for these acts. And I was to discover through my blood wife, that those that were kidnapped for the Bloodless Parties often became the bleeders on the streets. Why? Because the aristocrats that own the businesses these low blood borns are employed in fire them without chances to return. There needs to be accountability for these actions. Bleeders should not be negatively impacted for what they did not choose to happen to them.”
Draman Beauchamp asked, “And what does this man,” he gazed at me momentarily, “have to do with this? He is not an aristocrat.”
Devareaux responded back, “No, he is not. This is Onyx Trudeau. He is a low blood born vampyr who rose in the ranks to become a mid blood born.” Draman looked to me again, and nodded in appreciation.
“He was the one to help me find my blood wife. Without his help, I would not have found her in time. May have become a bleeder, and would have taken me days to find her. Resulting in my own failing.”
Draman nodded. “We will put this issue to the table. We will convene again in one month.”
Devareaux looked to me, pleased, and nodded.
Devareaux unexpectedly invited me to his home after the meeting with the Blood Council. I had been surprised as I had never been invited to an aristocrat’s neighborhood or function.
Once there, he invited me in to his office where we discussed how we each had made a mess with our blood wives.
Devareaux looked a mess and he told me that he would be doing anything from here forward to regain Odessa’s trust. I asked him if I could invite Dreya over to visit Odessa once she had recovered enough. He gladly agreed.
“You know, I always suspected Dreya was treated differently. I had heard stories about Henri D’Avare.”
I had leaned in on that declaration. “Like what?”
Devareaux sighed, looking unsure. “I heard that not only did he have mistresses….”
“Mistresses? As in more than one?”
Devareaux nodded. “Mistresses, but also a blood whore.”
I stared at Devareaux stunned. That was scandalous.
I thought for a moment. “If we could get some kind of proof of this, we could use it against Henri.”
Devareaux frowned. “How so?”
I looked at Devareaux, and smirked. “He’s all about his appearances and status. He wouldn’t want anyone to know he has a blood whore. That would be very bad business for him. Maybe we could use it to persuade him into changing some of his policies in his businesses.”
Devareaux paused, thinking it over. He had a glint in his eyes. “Do you think Dreya may know some information on her father?”
I grimaced, and leaned back into the seat.
“The bastard has her calling him Mr. D’Avare instead of father or dad.
It’s disgusting.” I paused. “I could always ask her?” Maybe, if she knew something, and I invited her into meetings with Devareaux and me, I could get closer to my blood wife again.
I know she had given up on us, on me, but I would not.
Now that I was still learning new truths about her horrible father, I felt I needed to protect my blood wife.