Chapter 12
Onyx’s POV
Devareaux and I had made the plan to meet with Dreya’s father. He may have been her blood father, but he really was worth nothing more than that. Devareaux ensured he had enough proof to put pressure on Mr. D’Avare when we were ready to confront him.
We had been surprised that he had been open to meeting with us. Well, meet with Devareaux. He had to accept that I was just part of the arrangement. We met him at his home office. Dreya’s mother was nowhere to be seen.
He had been civil with Devareaux, but even I could tell he looked down on him as well, even though they were in the same station. When he looked at me, he didn’t bother hiding his disgust. I just smiled back at him, wanting to push every button of his I could.
After some pleasantries and general topics, Mr. D’Avare addressed me directly.
“So, my daughter,” he said with disdain, “was matched to a low blood born.”
“I am actually a mid blood born in rank now.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “You are still of dirty blood. I’m not sure why you would want to spend time with this man, Mr. Hautbois. He is not one of us.”
Devareaux spoke softly, “I am surprised you would talk about your daughter in that manner, Mr. D’Avare. It is unbecoming of an aristocrat.”
Mr. D’Avare retorted, “She’s a dirty whore. She is useless. But of course she would be paired with a dirty low blood.”
I snapped at him, “She was a fucking virgin. And you? You were the whore. Not only your dirty mistresses, by disrespecting your blood wife, but your blood whore as well.”
Mr. D’Avare looked shocked at the accusations. “I never…”
Devareaux leaned in, calmly and quietly. “Oh, you absolutely have.” He smirked wickedly at Mr. D’Avare. “Or maybe you can tell us exactly who Roselle Cartier truly is to you?”
Mr. D’Avare paled.
“And a low blood born no less. Oh, the scandal that will bring upon you.”
He shifted uneasily in his chair.
“What do you want?”
I smiled widely at him. “Your undivided support in abolishing the bloodletting activities,” he huffed loudly, “and changing your policies at your businesses to be more accommodating to the low blood borns.” I continued to grin widely at him.
“We will be having similar conversations with your esteemed colleagues.” I named all four of the aristocrats that Dreya had provided to us.
“That bitch! Her and her big mouth!”
Devareaux slammed his fist on the desk in front of him and roared.
“How dare you speak on your own daughter like that! You are expected to behave at a higher level than the other stations yet you are the most despicable of our kind across the board. You are a shame to high blood borns. You are a shame to vampyrs entirely. You will not disrespect my blood soul’s best friend. Ever. Again. Do you hear me?”
Mr. D’Avare looked stunned, but agitated. I smiled in amusement at him. I loved watching this scoundrel squirm.
“And you will have absolutely nothing to do my blood soul, either. Is that clear?”
He looked at me appalled. “Your what?”
I leaned in, and smirked at him. “Dreya is my blood soul.”
“Why? Why would you say that? She is….she is….”
I finished his sentence. “Perfection.”
Devareaux and I were again facing the Blood Council for what was likely the fifth time in as many months. I hoped this time we could see some sort of progress in our endeavor.
Mr. Beauchamp stood at the center of the table.
He began to address the room. “It is good to finally see our kind make an active effort to make change. We have been stuck in our ways, following traditions that no longer suit us. It has been an honor, personally, to watch the partnership between an aristocrat and a worker come together in this fashion. It is time change is made.”
I felt hope and relief that something, finally, was coming of all these meetings.
Addressing us directly, Mr. Beauchamp continued. “This will take time, but I am looking forward to working with both of you in making this change occur.”
I had been shocked. He wanted to work with both of us on this? I must have shown this, as Mr. Beauchamp smiled at me.
“You have been quite exactly what we have needed for a long time, Mr. Trudeau. It has been an honor, and will continue to be an honor, to see what you can bring to the table.”
I would have to share this with Dreya. And my grandfather. It was also time for them to finally meet.
A week later, I had somehow managed to persuade my wife into meeting my grandfather.
I would start small and work my way in. I knew how she felt about my grandfather, or rather, how he felt about her father.
She was highly on edge as we drove to his place.
Grandmother would love her, regardless of who she was.
The thing I had not wanted to tell Dreya was that the conversation she had overheard that had shifted our relationship so drastically had been between my grandfather and me.
He knew of my misgivings with Dreya. He had not given me any opinion of my choice one way or the other.
When I had told my grandfather more recently that I would be focusing more on fixing my relationship with Dreya, he again had no response to that. Just simply listened.
When we arrived at the house, Dreya was fidgeting badly.
“This was a bad idea.”
I reached over and took her hand in mine, feeling her start to tug it away, but I gripped it a bit more firmly.
She turned to look at me. “They will love you. As I do.” She huffed again.
Every chance I got, I told her I loved her. I would get the same response, but I would not stop saying it. I meant it. I loved my blood wife. No matter how much I had messed things up for us.
Before we could talk any further, Dreya’s door was yanked open and my grandmother practically squealed.
“Let me look at her!”
The thing about vampyrs is we aged very slowly.
Grandmother was at least in her seventies, but looked like a 40 year old human.
Her hair was piled up on her head, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
She tugged Dreya out of the car, gently, but it made her laugh.
I loved hearing Dreya laugh. It was the old Dreya shining through again.
I had to hold on to these moments whenever I could.
I couldn’t help but smile as I got out of the car, watching my grandmother fawn all over Dreya.
I caught grandfather out of the corner of my eye, watching.
We made eye contact and he surprised me.
His eyes crinkled up slightly into a smile and gave me a simple nod. I felt relieved.
Grandmother being grandmother, turned Dreya towards grandfather and said, “Pierre meet Dreya. Dreya, Pierre.” Dreya looked uncomfortable, glancing at grandfather, but before either of them could respond to each other grandmother turned Dreya around towards the house.
“Now that that is out of the way, let’s go. He’s grumpy most times, so don’t mind him. Come in, come in!”
I heard Dreya giggle and that made me laugh. She had been welcomed in.