Chapter 27 To Go Awry
King Lucian Ro?u
I adjusted the cuff of my silk shirt and glanced first at Sebastian, then Kaori, both of whom were pretending not to notice my impatience. Three times in the last hour, I had checked my phone for missed calls from any of my Cimmerian sons. The silence was beginning to wear on my patience.
“Dad, staring at your phone won’t make it ring,” Sebastian said, his hazel eyes meeting mine with a hint of amusement.
He always had been perceptive. Too perceptive at times.
“I am not staring,” I replied, setting the device on the table with deliberate care. “I am merely ensuring I don’t miss anything important.”
Kaori’s lips curved upward as she spread jam on her toast.
“That’s the definition of staring at your phone, Lucian.”
I shot her a look that would have sent anyone else scurrying for cover, but my beloved merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. In the two months since our paths had crossed in that dusty nephilim archive, she had never once cowered before me.
It was both infuriating and intoxicating.
“Casi said they would call after they dealt with the Harrow girl.” Sebastian cuddled his cat, Mirabelle, for a moment more, then set her on the floor with a gentle stroke down her back.
The white Persian was the ugliest creature I had ever set eyes upon, and Sebastian doted on her like she was his child.
“They should have waited for backup,” I noted as the diva of a cat flicked her tail at us, obviously irritated that her personal lap provider had scorned her for his dinner.
“From whom? Us?” Sebastian’s laugh held no humor. “The terms of your truce with Arabesque prevent the direct involvement of the vampire court. The Cimmerians are technically free agents.”
“A technicality I arranged specifically for situations like this,” I reminded him.
The loophole had been carefully crafted, a legal gray area that allowed my sons to act where I could not. It was one of many contingencies I had put in place recently.
“They can handle one teenage witch,” Sebastian said with confidence that mirrored my own outward demeanor.
“Even a Dark one,” I agreed, although the knot of concern in my chest disagreed.
Dark witches were unpredictable, drawing power from diabolical and corrupted sources and bound by fewer constraints than their conventional counterparts. And Amabel was Arabesque’s daughter; she would have been well-versed in the most forbidden arts.
I had trained my sons thoroughly, too, however. Pushed them past breaking points most couldn’t imagine. Molded them into weapons that could extend my reach where politics constrained me. Casimir’s determination, Zane’s cunning, Koa’s raw power, all forged under my strict guidance.
But as the old saying went, “The best laid plans of mice and men gang oft awry.”
And when dealing with Dark witches, there was always the potential for most of it to go awry.
“They’ll be fine.” Kaori reached across the table, her fingers brushing mine. The touch was light, but I felt it like a brand against my skin. “You’ve spent their entire lives ensuring they would be.”
“It’s not worry, but practicality,” I lied smoothly, turning my hand to catch her fingers. “If they fail to contain Amabel properly, we lose a valuable source of information.”
Sebastian’s expression told me he wasn’t fooled, but he was diplomatic enough not to contradict me. Instead, he redirected the conversation.
“Speaking of information, any progress on identifying our court traitor?”
“Nothing concrete.” I frowned. The existence of a spy within my inner circle was an ongoing insult, one that had persisted far longer than it should have. “Whoever it is has been exceptionally careful.”
“Or exceptionally placed,” Kaori mused, setting down her fork. “The quality of intelligence Arabesque has been receiving suggests someone with significant access.”
“I agree.” I smiled slightly, appreciating her analytical mind. “It’s either someone very high or very low, and I know which way I’m betting.”
“Upper echelon.” Sebastian nodded. “The serving staff are too closely monitored, and most lack access to sensitive areas without supervision.”
“To obtain the information she has, Arabesque must have corrupted someone significant,” I said, my voice hardening. “The details about the northern border patrols, the schedules of our blood shipments, the names of our human allies in government.”
“And Lord Wince?” Kaori asked carefully.
I felt my jaw tighten at the mention of the man. Mordecai’s betrayal still burned worse than sunlight.
“A true disappointment.” I took a sip of my coffee, the metallic tang of blood mixing with the bitter richness. “There was a time when I would have bet my fangs on his loyalty.”
I set my cup down with a force that sent tiny ripples across the surface of the liquid.
“It was fortunate for him that Arabesque only fed his soul to a greater demon. I would have done much worse.”
The room fell silent. Both Sebastian and Kaori knew I didn’t make idle threats. The punishment I had planned for my old friend would have lasted decades.
“The reports from our spies suggest Arabesque is building quite the force,” Sebastian said after a moment. “Rogues, exiled shifters, low-level witches with questionable ethics.”
“And stockpiling power,” I added. “The magic she’s siphoned from Jonathan Bell and Serafina over the past five years must be significant.”
“From what Zane saw in Eluned’s memories, I’d wager she’s been siphoning from more than just those two,” Sebastian replied grimly. “There were more storage vials than two witches could have generated in that timeframe.”
“Other victims we don’t know about yet.” Kaori’s forehead creased with concern.
I nodded. She understood the ethical implications of magic siphoning better than most. It was tantamount to slow murder, draining the victim’s life force along with their magical abilities.
“The question remains, which king is she targeting?” Sebastian leaned forward. “You? King Julian Hemming? King Pelle Iverson? King Aerin Winterlight? I can’t believe she’d go after the Matriarch of the South again, but we can’t rule it out.”
I agreed with his last statement. Arabesque was ambitious, but not foolish. She would choose her target strategically, not out of vengeance.
“The Woodland Realm is too well-protected by ancient wards, and Aerin Winterlight’s mate brought strong alliances with her,” I reasoned. “As for the Ice Cloud Kingdom, it’s geographically isolated, and Pelle Iverson rarely leaves Isenheim.”
“So it’s either you or Julian,” Sebastian concluded.
“Those seem the most likely targets.” I nodded.
“I believe she’ll go after King Julian first.” Kaori shrugged when we both turned to look at her. “She’s specifically building a werewolf army. Why go to that trouble if vampires were her primary target?”
“Werewolves can cause significant damage to vampires,” I pointed out. “Their bites are poisonous to our kind. It would be a logical choice.”
“There’s a symmetry to using rogues against a werewolf king,” she disagreed. “Rogues owe no allegiance to anyone. They’ve rejected pack hierarchy or been cast out from it. They have little concept of home. Most are half-feral or mad.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened slightly as he caught her meaning.
“They’re the antithesis of everything the wolf king stands for.”
“Exactly.” Kaori nodded. “And symbolism matters to witches like Arabesque. Magic works on parallels and resonances. Using werewolves who’ve rejected their nature against the king who embodies werewolf ideals would amplify her spell work.”
I considered her theory. It was sound, both magically and tactically.
“If she weakens King Julian first, she could then move against me with less fear of an alliance between our courts.”
“We should warn him,” Sebastian said.
“And tell him what, exactly?” I raised an eyebrow. “That we suspect an attack based on magical theory and second-hand information extracted from the mind of a teenage witch? A deranged one, at that.”
“Better than saying nothing,” Kaori countered.
I didn’t respond immediately. The political implications were complex.
Julian Hemming and I maintained a carefully balanced relationship.
We were allies, not friends. Warning him without concrete evidence could be seen as manipulation, an attempt to draw him into vampire court affairs.
But if Kaori was right, and Arabesque struck against the wolf king first…
My thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of my phone against the marble tabletop.
I had it in my hand before I consciously registered reaching for it.
Koa’s name illuminated the screen, sending an unexpected jolt through me.
My youngest son, the one who barely acknowledged my existence unless absolutely necessary, was calling me.
Not Sebastian.
Me.
Something was wrong.
I answered without preamble, putting it on speaker. No polite greeting, no time for pleasantries.
“Are you all right? Your brothers? Seri?” The concern in my voice was raw, unfiltered, a lapse in control I would have never permitted in front of anyone else.
“We’re all alive, Papa-in-law,” came a soft female voice that was decidedly not Koa’s.
Ah. Serafina. My new daughter-in-law. The lunar witch who had somehow managed to bond with all three of my wayward sons in a matter of days. The one who had stood before me not long ago, half-starved and wounded, as she reminded me that her husbands were my sons, not my weapons.
“But Casimir’s in a bad way and Zane wore himself out helping him. Also…” her voice trailed off, and I heard her whisper, “Koko, how do I make this a video call?”
I exchanged glances with Sebastian, whose lips curved into a small smile. Kaori leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had yet to meet Seri in person, but she’d heard plenty from both Sebastian and myself.