I tighten my grip on the edge of his desk and I’m surprised the wood doesn’t splinter. Walter huffs out an exasperated noise and leans over the desk to flick at my fingers.
“This desk is antique,” he says, wiping my fingerprints off the wood. “Your father is as well. An impediment to the development of Carver County.”
All the puzzle pieces click together in my brain in this glaringly obvious sort of epiphany. There’s a reason my father has been so adamant that I’m the one to take over his seat on the council, because as long as it’s me, our family will hold the head position, and Stregorian can be brought to heel. If it’s not me, and we lose the seat, the entire vampire population who stands against him could face their final death.
I know I can’t trust him about politics now, and the idea of trusting mine and Declan’s life with his solution to the severed bond seems like the worst idea I’ve ever had, but there aren’t any better ones. What I know for sure is I can’t lose my cool, and I can’t let him catch on that I’ve put it together.
“The problem has been…mitigated,” he concedes. “Franklin did get a little out of hand, though. I’m thankful your brother was there to take care of that for me.”
I decide as soon as I can find a way to get away with it, I’m going to chain this bastard to a fucking tree and leave him to burn.
“How did you know my brother is the one who killed him?”
“Well, if you’re on your knees, I can’t imagine you’re doing much of anything. Unless…I could be wrong.”
I slam my fist into his desk and it splinters under my knuckles. I step back and shove my hands into my pockets.
“You have quite a temper on you, little boy,” Walter remarks, assessing the damage to his precious antique desk.
“I just want my bond back, you piece of shit.”
I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been as angry as I am right now. Not even when I found out Franklin had taken Declan, not when Jones threw Liz into the driveway, not when I was forced into taking a mate in the first place. Walter Stregorian is a piece of shit and I want to rip his limbs apart. All I can see in my mind are ways I can send him to a long overdue grave, and worse, he can see it all in my face, and I think it gets him off.
He shifts his weight and flattens both of his feet on the ground and slides his chair in so his lower half is obscured by his desk. I know he’s hard, because I’m hard. That masochistic little fuck. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and my entire body yearns for Declan; for the feeling of him inside of me, warm in my heart and comfortable like a familiar blanket.
That’s why I’m here.
That’s what I’m doing this for.
For him.
For me…
“Oh, Ezra,” Walter sighs. His voice is rough like sandpaper. “It’s just like the first time.”
“What?”
“Repeat how you did it the first time.”
“It can’t bethateasy,” I counter. “If it were, it would be more successful.”
“It’s not the first part that’s the trick. It’s the second. A vampire being reborn isn’t anything like a human being turned. It’s an unfathomable instinct to survive.” Walter scratches at the corner of his mouth and slides one hand under the desk.
That’s it, right there. My biggest fear.
“So it’s not me not being able to turn him. It’s him not bleeding me out.”
“That’s the ticket, little boy.”
I’m not cut out for politics
I stalk out of his room and out of the house. I’m on the porch catching my breath when a rather official looking line of cars pull up in the driveway. I dig my phone out of my pocket and confirm its time for the meeting. Without a word or a greeting, I go back inside in time to see Walter saunter out of his office.
“The meeting is this way, little boy.”
I clench my jaw and follow him down a long hallway and into a formal dining room. I assume since I’m in charge now, my seat is at the head of the table. I’m not going to ask this fucker, though. I take the seat I want and steeple my fingers together in front of me and I wait for the room to fill. Aside from the two of us, we’re promptly joined by five other vampires, all from the surrounding cities. I’ve met all of them before in passing, but of course I’ve never had an interest in getting to know any of them. To my left, Clarice, the head of the Montgomery family from Oak Hill, takes a seat. She greets me with a polite nod and a small smile, which I return. Alejandra Marquez from Thorn Valley and John Carpenter from Carver City sit in the chairs beside Clarice. A sour looking man I remember as Eustace Williams takes a seat beside Walter, and Ethel Wolverton to his right.
I hate to say it looks like battle lines are drawn, but…my father did warn me there was division amongst the family heads and I can see it clearly now. I wait for everyone to settle, and then I stand up.
