Chapter 12
Zander sat at his desk and considered his options. Aaron Drake would undoubtedly hear about the events of both balls through the grapevine within days.
And that wasn’t the way he wanted his old friend to hear about Zander’s dalliance with Emmy.
And if he found out in the next couple of hours? That, too, was a possibility, which meant he was going to have to set up a time to meet with Aaron now, so when Aaron found out, he’d understand Zander didn’t intend to keep it a secret.
It was bad enough Aaron had found out about his daughter being poisoned through the grapevine. Zander had leveled with him, telling him Emmy specifically asked him not to tell them, and Zander figured she should have some medical autonomy. That hadn’t gone well. At all.
This would be so much worse, but it was imperative Aaron hear it from him, or at least have evidence Zander was about to tell him.
He headed upstairs to talk to Lucien about where they were on planning the upcoming hunt, and an hour later, had arranged for Aaron and Sophia to come to Mordnik for a visit, under the auspices of picking slaves up from the Concilio stronghold and escorting them to northern Alaska.
There are only a handful of people certified to transport multiple high-risk supernaturals.
Aaron has a few on his payroll, but it isn’t unusual for him to handle such jobs personally.
It’s absolutely uncharacteristic for him to bring his wife, but they were coming because Zander promised them dinner with their daughter.
And now he’d have to convince Emerald why it was so important she and Zander come clean sooner, rather than later.
Zander waited for the two daywalkers to awaken and eat, and then sent Spence off to handle a minor issue.
Emmy was seated at the small desk he’d brought in for her from upstairs, staring at her laptop, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“Looks like you can use a break, and there’s something we need to discuss.”
She looked up, and he watched her expression shift from mild curiosity to wariness. She’d gotten good at reading his tones.
“Okay,” she said slowly, before saving her work and turning towards him.
He settled into a chair facing her, partway across the room.
“Your mom asked me to…” he shrugged. “Offer you a place, and then keep an eye on you. Keep you safe, try to help out with the whole graduate degree thing.”
Her jaw tightened, but she nodded.
“I haven’t given them a whole lot of details, and I was honest about that.
They get your grade reports directly from the university, and I figure your dad has some eyes at the school.
Your mom calls me once a week if I haven’t called her.
Mostly, all I’ve told her is an overview.
How you’ve integrated into the flock, the fact you’ve made friends.
The basics on outings — the boat thing, concerts.
Nothing invasive, just reassurances that you’re doing well. ”
“Okay.” Her voice was flat. She knew he was building up to something.
“When you were poisoned, your father found out through other channels. He was furious I hadn’t told him immediately.” Zander met her eyes. “I explained that you’d specifically asked me not to tell them, and that you’re an adult who deserves medical privacy. He didn’t take it well.”
Her expression softened slightly. “I appreciate that you respected my wishes.”
“I did, and I would again, but…” He sighed.
“I damaged our friendship. Trust is important for both of us.” Zander leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Emmy, your father has vast contacts throughout the supernatural community. The events at both balls — you, me, and Spence dancing together, kissing in public view, fucking on the table — that information is going to reach him. Soon.”
He watched her process that, saw the moment real alarm flickered across her face.
“How soon?”
“Days if we’re lucky, but maybe hours.” He kept his voice steady, matter-of-fact. “I don’t want him to hear about us from gossip. It’s something he needs to hear from us.”
“So what are you suggesting?” But he could see she already knew, and she didn’t like it.
“I’ve arranged for your parents to come to Mordnik.
We’re hosting a hunt in a few days—” He saw her confusion and explained.
“We bring in slaves from the Concilio, and they’re released above ground with a three-minute head start, and then our vampire guests hunt them.
The first three to catch one can purchase them for a dollar if they choose, and I’ll cover the rest of the purchase price, though they are taking legal responsibility.
Everyone who catches one gets twelve hours with them in a curtained section of the ballroom.
Afterward, any who survive and weren’t purchased go back to the Concilio, and I only pay for their rental. ”
Emmy blew out a breath. “And my dad is one of only a handful of people certified to transport the worst of the prisoners. He has some others on his payroll, but why pay someone to do it when he wants to come anyway?”
“Yes, and I suggested he bring your mother as well…” he took a breath and told her the part she wasn’t going to like.
“I promised them dinner with you, though I specified I would be present.” He saw the exact moment she understood, watched her spine go rigid.
“They’ll be here for a minimum of thirty-six hours.
We’ll have dinner with them, and we’ll come clean about our relationship. ”
Emmy felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. “You what?”
He shook his head. “I won’t repeat myself.”
“You promised dinner without asking me!?” Her voice rose, and she surged to her feet.
“You invited my parents here, promised them I’d have dinner with them, and decided we’d tell them about—about—” She gestured wildly between them and toward the door Spence had left through.
“All of this? Without even discussing it with me first?”
Zander remained seated, maddeningly calm. “Emerald—”
“No!” She was pacing now, fury and panic warring in her chest. “This is exactly the kind of high-handed bullshit I’ve been dealing with my entire life!
People making decisions about me without including me in the conversation!
You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to decide when I’m ready to tell my parents I’m sleeping with you and your—our—” She faltered, not sure what word to use for Spence in this context.
“You’re right.”
That stopped her mid-stride. “What?”
“You’re right. I should have discussed it with you first.” His voice was quiet but firm. “But I don’t regret the decision, and I’m not going to change it. Your father is going to find out, and when he does, if he thinks I was trying to hide it, the fallout will be significantly worse.”
“It’s too new!” She heard the desperation in her own voice. “What if it doesn’t even work? What if—”
“Do you think it won’t work?” He asked it simply, no judgment in his tone.
She opened her mouth to say yes, to give herself an out, but the lie wouldn’t come. She sighed and dropped back onto the sofa. “No. There’s something there. Something big. But that doesn’t mean I want to have a conversation with my parents about it.”
“I understand that.”
“Do you?” She glared at him. “Because it really doesn’t feel like it.”
The door opened, and Spence walked in. He took one look at the two of them, and his eyebrows rose. “Should I come back?”
“No,” Zander said.
Spence stepped into the room, closed the door, and sat on the coffee table directly in front of Emmy. “What’s going on?”
“Zander invited my parents to Mordnik and told them we’d all have dinner together so we could tell them about the three of us,” Emmy said flatly. “Without asking me first.”
Spence looked between them, his expression thoughtful. “That sucks.”
Emmy blinked. “Thank you.”
Spence smiled. “You’re welcome, but still … I get why he did it.”
She was opening her mouth to argue when he said, “Hang on, please. Hear me out.” He leaned forward a little. “You’re not ashamed of what’s happening between us, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Neither am I. And neither is Zander.” Spence glanced at the vampire, then back to her. “So if we’re not ashamed, and we’re not trying to hide it, then telling your parents isn’t about convincing them it’s a good idea or asking permission. It’s just letting them know what’s happening in your life.”
“It’s not that simple. I haven’t spoken to either of them in months, and this is going to be the first time I see them?”
“I know it isn’t simple. I also know everything is kind of new with us, and it’s awkward, but…
” He sat up and ran his hand through his hair.
“We don’t have to tell them it’s some big done deal.
You aren’t blood bonding in to permanently join us, though I’d love it if…
” He blew out a breath. “Sorry. Back on point. If we act like we’re trying to hide it, that tells them we think there’s something wrong with it.
And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. ”
Emmy felt all of her arguments evaporate. She hated that he was making sense. “I still don’t want them staying in the silo.” Her voice sounded grumpy even to her own ears.
“Then they won’t,” Zander said. “I was going to put them in the Krvi’s old room, but I can arrange lodging at the B&B, and we’ll meet them for dinner in the town’s diner. You won’t run into them unless it’s planned.”
She looked between the two of them, these men who’d somehow become the center of her world. Spence with his steady reasonableness, Zander with his infuriating logic.
“Fine,” she said finally. “But I still don’t like it.”
“I know,” Zander said.
“And if my father tries to kill you, it’s your own damned fault, so you’ll have to defend yourself.”
“That’s fair.”
Spence snorted. “She’ll absolutely step in to help stop him.”
Emmy shot him a look, but couldn’t quite suppress the twitch of her lips. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Spence said, grinning at her.