I bypassed my father and stood on Webb’s left between him and Sawyer. “Thanks,” I said to Sawyer.
Webb gave me a quick hug, and he also congratulated me. “Sorry we’re not celebrating, but we will.”
I hadn’t had a chance to fill my brother-in-law in on Layla and what had been going on. Tripp probably had though. I was just stoked that my family was alive. Still, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking pissed that such a momentous occasion was eclipsed by the shit flying at us.
An anchorman adjusted his moss-green tie as he looked directly into the camera. “Good morning, folks. I’m Dick Hurtz, and I’ll be with you for the next hour, sharing all the top headlines. But first, we have breaking news. In just a few minutes, we’ll be hearing from owner and CEO Adam Emery of Camden Industries and Intech Corporation. Our sources tell us Adam will be announcing a new endeavor that will impact every American in this country.”
My father swore. “I don’t like this one fucking bit.”
The tension in the room escalated at breakneck speed.
Dick continued. “Both Camden Industries and Intech Corporation are well-known entities among the military community. Both companies employ approximately one hundred thousand people in total worldwide and are principally engaged in the research, design, development, and integration of advanced technologies in weapons and computer systems for the Department of Defense.” Dick pressed on his ear. “We’re going live to our lead correspondent, Timothy Cox, who is outside Camden’s headquarters. Tim, what’s the mood on the ground there?”
Tim pierced the camera with his brown gaze as he stood midway on the steps leading up to a podium in front of a set of glass doors and flags flying high on the flagpoles flanking the entrance. “Well, Dick, there are rumors that Adam will speak about the folklore surrounding vampires. We tried to contact those close to Adam to gain a better sense of what to expect from his speech but weren’t successful. As you know from interviews we’ve conducted, as well as those of our colleagues and competitors, humans are chomping at the bit to know if vampires are truth or fiction.”
“So, Tim,” Dick said. “What do you think humans will do if truth wins out over fiction?”
Webb growled. “Fucking chaos.”
Behind Tim, six men dressed in SWAT gear emerged, loaded with weapons on their hips and around their legs. Each of them scanned the area before one of them waved at the glass doors.
Tim’s voice faded as the camera panned in on Adam Emery strutting up to the podium with an arrogant attitude, as if he’d already won the war.
I silently laughed as the fuckwad swept his brown gaze from right to left. He hadn’t won a fucking thing.
“You think his security team are vampires?” Sawyer asked.
It was hard to tell, since we weren’t there, but the answer might be a resounding yes when none other than asshole Roman Brown sauntered out of the building and sidled up to Adam.
The head of one of the largest blood cartels smiled, looking smugger than Adam. But Roman’s cocksureness fit his personality. He had a love for flair and shiny new cars, and he devoured attention like a hungry bear. He also loved to fuck with people’s minds, and staying true to his fashion sense, he was wearing a black pinstriped three-piece suit. Probably the same one he’d worn to the fight when he’d stormed our compound in early February. Little did the blond-haired and blue-eyed vampire know that he would have little time left on this planet when he and I finally met in battle.
Anger weaved a knot in my stomach as my fangs lowered. I would give anything for the magical ability to teleport. Because if I could, my hands would be around Roman’s neck in a flash.
Adam adjusted the microphone, placed his hands on the podium, and rolled back his shoulders. “Thank you all for coming out at such an early hour. As you know, Camden Industries and Intech Corporation have a long-standing relationship with our US government, helping and serving the needs of our military to combat our enemies.”
The camera angle swept over the reporters. Some were holding out their phones, others had a pen and notepad in their hands, while others held microphones.
Adam stood up taller. “I’m proud to announce that Intech Corporation is branching out to develop a revolutionary prototype to combat a new enemy we have right here on our soil. And you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve been reporting on the topic for months.”
“Vampires,” a woman among the media shouted.
The camera zoomed in on Adam.
“That’s right,” Adam confirmed, with sweat dripping down his temples.
“The question you keep asking yourself is”—Adam eyed Roman, who in turn nodded—“are vampires real?” He picked up a glass of water from the podium and took a sip.
My father, who had stepped out from between Tripp and Webb, was pacing on the other side of Tripp. “This is fucking insane.” His hands were fisted at his sides, his face tomato-red, and his nostrils were flaring.
That storm named Steven Mason was about to wipe out anyone in his path.
“Arethey real?” a male reporter asked.
My father came to an abrupt halt and focused once again on the screen.
“Billion-dollar question,” another person piped up.
The buzz of voices grew louder, the eagerness and excitement mingling among them.
