"Once Azrael took over vampire command…" I vividly remember Emily telling us this when we returned from Luminara: "he's given werewolves free rein to claim these territories, which also gives Azrael more power as the vampire council has been wiped out." Emily explains.
Rhyland's head snaps up, his eyes narrowing. "You're sure about this?"
"Yup. It was later discovered after you all got sucked into Narnia…"
"Aquaria." I correct her.
"Whatever—point is, after you took your little underwater sabbatical, it came out that Azrael murdered all the council members so he could seize control. Their bodies, or what was left of them, were found up in the mountains. Not exactly a pretty picture, if you catch my drift."
I cringe inwardly at the mental image of when Adrian died, the way his body froze up like a cold statue. A shiver runs through me at the memory, and Rhyland squeezes me, picking up on my unease.
Lucian leans back in his chair, his face a mask of disbelief. "Hold up, hold up. Are you telling me that the mortal law enforcement just sat back and twiddled their thumbs while this shit went down? What, did they all take a collective vacation to 'Not My Problem'-ville?"
"Not really." Emily starts, her voice laced with frustration. "I mean, yes, there are still laws and shit, but Azrael has too much power and influence for the mortal authorities to go against him. Everyone played nice and followed the rules when the vampire council was around to keep things in check, but now…"
"They're too chickenshit to stand up to him," I finish, my voice flat. "Azrael's got them all by the balls, and they're too afraid to even squeak in protest."
Lucian lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Well, isn't this just a regular shit show of epic proportions? Azrael's running around playing murder-happy dictator, the werewolves are marking their territory like a bunch of incontinent chihuahuas, and the humans are apparently on a permanent 'see no evil, hear no evil' sabbatical. Fucking wonderful."
Emily nods, her face grim. "It's a goddamn mess, that's for sure. But what I want to know is, what the hell are we gonna do about it? We can't just sit around with our thumbs up our asses while Azrael and his furry minions and witch bitches run roughshod over everything."
Azrael has the entire supernatural army at his beck and call. And now, he's got the damn Soul Stone to boot. So not only did we beef up his power stockpile while we were gallivanting in other realms, but we also went ahead and served his shadow power back to him on a silver platter.
Fuck. Me.
I sigh, rubbing my temples in a vain attempt to stave off the headache I feel brewing. "Honestly? I have no clue. But one thing's for sure—we can't let this continue. We have to find a way to stop Azrael and restore some semblance of order before everything goes to hell in a handbasket."
Rhyland nods, his jaw clenched. "Damn right. And the first step is getting that Soul Stone back. Once we have that, we can start working on a plan to take down Azrael and his little empire of bullshit."
"No," I state plainly, my voice cutting through the room like a knife.
Rhyland and everyone else freeze, their eyes snapping to me as if I've just grown a second head. "We need to fix this by connecting with leaders and putting together another vampire council—one that we can trust and powerful enough to make a difference. We need to meet with the covens and the packs, get their heads in the game, and ensure they're on the right side of this fight. We take away Azrael's power from the inside and watch him crumble like a house of cards. Then, and only then, do we go after the stone and put an end to that bastard once and for all."
The silence is deafening, stretching for an eternity as everyone digests my words.
"Your strategic understanding is impressive, Little Huntress. Your plan shows wisdom beyond your years. I take some credit for your skills, but your talent and determination are all your own."
All heads swivel in Erik's direction like a bunch of meerkats on high alert as he enters the kitchen. He's rocking a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue T-shirt, looking like he just stepped out of a goddamn athleisure catalog. His silver hair is brushed and groomed to perfection, not a single strand out of place.
His silver eyes scan the area, taking in the scene before him with an intensity that would make lesser men quake in their boots. But me? I smirk because I know beneath that stoic exterior lies a heart of gold and a wicked sense of humor.
"Well…" I drawl. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence. Nice of you to join us, Erik. I was starting to think you'd fallen into a coma."
Erik walks by me, his hand resting on my shoulder in a gesture of support and affection, a rare display of emotion from the usually reserved vampire. I can't help but smile—feeling a warmth bloom in my chest at his subtle but meaningful gesture.
As Erik heads toward the cabinet, he calls out to Lucian, his voice laced with dry amusement. "Lucian, this most certainly calls for a drink. Where do you keep the libations in this place? Surely, you have a stash that lives up to the grandeur of this momentous occasion."
Lucian throws his hands up in exasperation. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were celebrating something. What occasion is that, Erik? The fact that you're trying to take credit for Dani's brilliance, or the fact that she just came up with a plan so foolproof even you can't find a way to poke holes in it?"
Erik looks over his shoulder, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Both, of course. As her mentor, I think I'm entitled to some reflected glory, don't you?"
Lucian
79
It's been acouple of weeks since our little kitchen kumbaya session, and let me tell you, I've been busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. I've been burning up the phone lines, calling every vampire and their undead mother across this godforsaken globe. You know, just catching up with old pals and shooting the shit about the latest apocalyptic shitstorm courtesy of everyone's favorite winged douchebag, Azrael. Or, as I like to call him, Azhole.
These fanged friends of mine have all heard about the epic clusterfuck we've got going on here in the good ol' US of A, and they've agreed to fly their pale asses over here for a little pow-wow. Time to get the band back together and form some sort of council because, apparently, that's what you do when the world's about to go tits up.
