Chapter 16
Sixteen
Rafe checked his phone a final time as he climbed the front stairs to Marcus’s mansion.
He’d dropped his oldest brother a quick message, warning him that he planned to stop by to discuss an important matter that evening.
Marcus sent no reply, but then Marcus didn’t like technology.
Didn’t like texting or even computers as far as he could tell.
Of course, Marcus had seemed old and grumpy even before he’d become a vampire.
It was kind of amazing that he fit so well with Ethan.
The young man was bright and vibrant, a ball of boundless energy and enthusiasm.
Sort of like a puppy. Well, at least Ethan didn’t urinate on the hall carpet or chew on Marcus’s shoes.
Despite his youth, Ethan had plenty of bite, and he had no problem going after anyone who threatened Marcus. Not the wisest move, considering the fledgling was still quite weak compared to other vampires, but Rafe did appreciate his desire to keep Marcus happy and safe.
Rafe didn’t bother to knock. He just used his key and unlocked the front door.
Marcus’s home was the usual restrained and old-fashioned opulence he’d come to expect from his older brother.
Lots of dark hardwoods, Aubusson rugs, and old oil paintings in heavy, ornate frames.
It was like stepping back in time, which left Rafe feeling both instantly comfortable and unnerved.
He was curious to see what kind of influence Ethan would have over the long years as they lived together.
“Rafe!” Ethan called from the staircase. He looked as if he was heading up to the second floor, but he’d stopped halfway and turned to gaze down at the newcomer.
“Good evening, Little Varik.” There was something about Ethan that brought a smile to his lips regardless of his bleak mood.
The young man had lost his entire family to vampires, and yet he still had the capacity for love and compassion.
For him, the world was a place to be explored and experienced.
Rafe could only hope he would hold on to that wonder as the years stretched before him.
“I was getting worried about you.” Ethan descended a few stairs, one hand sliding along the banister.
“Why is that?”
“You haven’t posted to your Instagram account in days! No naked pictures or dirty memes.”
Rafe shook his head, his amused smile turning wry. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“That’s why you’re meeting with Marcus.” At Rafe’s nod, Ethan’s expression became grim. “Okay, but post something today. Even if it’s just a selfie.”
“Maybe I’ll post a picture of dinner.”
Ethan rolled his eyes, but at least the worry disappeared from his adorable features. “Oh, yeah. How are you going to label it? Hashtag FeelingOPositive.”
“I like that. I’ll tell Marcus it was your idea.”
Ethan’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Don’t you dare!”
Rafe tilted his head toward the double doors just off the main hall to the left. “Library?”
“Where else?” Ethan said with a laugh.
It was the one place they could always find Marcus.
Well, there and in the music room, but Marcus didn’t linger there when he knew one of his brothers was going to pop over.
As far as Rafe knew, Marcus was the only one of them to write original music, though it was rare for him to share it.
Since the death of Julianna, Rafe wasn’t even sure if Winter and Bel still played.
Rafe lifted his hand in a small wave, and Ethan returned it before continuing up the stairs, probably to the office Marcus had set up for him on the second floor.
The young man was attending an online college to finish his degree in coding or some other complex computer thing.
Rafe didn’t understand it, but it made Ethan happy, and that was all that mattered to Marcus.
Stepping into the library, Rafe found his brother sitting on the sofa with a tablet in his hand.
Probably reviewing some note or contract from his business manager.
Marcus laid it facedown on a side table as he entered.
His brother was dressed in a pair of jeans and a cashmere sweater that stretched over his broad shoulders.
Since finding Ethan, Marcus looked more relaxed than Rafe had ever seen him.
His frown lines were less evident, and he smiled a little quicker.
“Rafe,” Marcus said, sliding to the edge of the cushion. “I heard there was an incident at Blush. Are you okay?”
“Fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Rafe muttered with a dismissive wave of one hand.
“I never doubted that.”
Rafe stared at his brother for a second, a snarky comment balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. Marcus was telling the truth. He really did believe he could handle whatever popped up at the club. He was genuinely worried about Rafe’s well-being. Or rather, his mental state.
With a sigh, Rafe shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and paced to the far side of the room. He honestly didn’t know where to start.
“How are things progressing with Arsenault? Bel said that the missing vampire has turned up dead. Any leads on the culprit?”
“Nothing substantial. I’ve got some guesses, but nothing I’m comfortable sharing with Philippe yet.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t he want to know?”
Rafe turned his sneer on his brother. “Would you want to be told that someone in your clan was betraying you? How open would you be to me telling you that Winter is trying to kill Bel?”
The frown Rafe knew so well finally appeared on Marcus’s lips. “I see your point. You need solid proof.”
Rafe turned away from Marcus and continued to pace over to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf covered in hardbacks.
Marcus and his beloved books. Until Ethan came along, Rafe hadn’t understood why his brother felt the need for such an escape, why he had felt most comfortable hiding away from the rest of the world.
His oldest brother had been very quiet about his sexuality.
Rafe had suspected Marcus’s eye preferred the male form, but then Marcus was always about appearances and meeting society’s demands of normalcy. What a fucking waste.
Of course, Rafe had spent a lifetime indulging his sexual appetite and what had it gotten him? A lover that he would forever be separated from.
“What’s on your mind, Rafe? Would it help if I spoke to Arsenault?” Marcus offered. He broke into Rafe’s circling thoughts. For a moment, he’d forgotten his brother was in the room with him.
Rafe shook his head and turned to face Marcus. “I didn’t come to talk about Arsenault. I’m still considering some ideas on that front.”
Marcus’s handsome face drew up a little in his concern. “Is it Blush?”
“No, it’s the Variks I want to discuss.”
“Us?”
Rafe nodded and drew in a deep breath. This was not an area he felt comfortable discussing, but it was well overdue.
“The Ministry sees the Variks as a clan, correct?”
“For the most part,” Marcus hedged. “We’ve never completed the official paperwork, but the Varik family has been viewed as a single clan from almost the day we were reborn. Aiden is seen as the clan leader.”
“Yes, but we’ve never acted like a clan.”
“Something, if I recall correctly, you’ve always celebrated. Your voice has always been the loudest claiming we are simply a family. Not a clan.”
Rafe shoved one hand through his hair while fisting the other in his pocket. “Yes, and I’m coming to regret it. It was a selfish stance.”
“It was a stance that kept us out of politics. Out of the notice of other clans.”
“And how has that worked for us, dear brother?” Rafe snapped. “The Black Wolf clan plotted to take down the Ministry, and their first stop was to attack the Variks because they saw us as some threat. Mother is dead, and we were very nearly killed in the process. Because of politics.”
“There’s no accounting for the insane,” Marcus grumbled, but his words were low and even. He didn’t quickly lose his temper. Not like Winter. But then, Rafe had become very good at baiting all of his brothers when he was in the mood.
But he wasn’t in the mood now. He didn’t want Marcus to see him as the frivolous playboy, even if it was the image he’d carefully cultivated over the long years.
“Regardless of whether we are officially a clan, others will always see us as one. We will always be a threat because we have Aiden and because the four of us will always act as a single unit to protect the others. That’s a clan.”
“Six,” Marcus corrected.
“What?”
Marcus smiled at him. “Counting Aiden and Ethan, there are six of us now.”
“Ethan,” Rafe murmured. He returned Marcus’s smile, but he knew there was something dark to it considering the way that Marcus’s fell away, becoming a warning glare. “We say that he’s a Varik, but he wasn’t born to this family.”
Marcus was on his feet in an instant, his entire body becoming tense as if he were preparing for a fight. “He is.”
“But he’s not blood.”
“He’s mine! There’s no arguing it. He’s a Varik.”
“And he’s an outsider that we’ve brought in. That makes us a clan.”
Marcus’s expression closed up and became troubled.
He crossed his arms over his wide chest and turned slightly away from Rafe as if he was trying to protect his heart.
“You never said anything against Ethan before.” Marcus’s voice was low and soft.
Rafe’s own heart ached at the tone. He loved irritating the hell out of Marcus, but he never wanted to hurt him.
“Because I have no problems with Ethan. Even if you hadn’t taken him as a mate, I would have argued he was a Varik. He’s proved it time and again.”
“Then why…?”
“Because we’re hypocrites!” Rafe threw up his arms and stomped across the room. “Or snobs. I don’t know. Maybe both.”
“Rafe, you’re making about as much sense as Bel. What are you talking about?”
“If one of us were to suggest bringing outsiders into the Variks, each of us would be clutching our proverbial pearls in horror. Until Ethan, Varik meant family and family meant blood.”