“Why?”
“I’m not a fan of their rules.”
Sebastian laughs. “Then I suppose this unlikely pairing makes more sense.”
He glares down at the mess of the blood on the floor before addressing everyone in the room. “No more bullshit. We’re here to discuss the Slayer, not petty quarrels between former lovers,” he says.
Ember stiffens on my lap, her hand falling from where it was interlaced with mine. Shit, and here I thought maybe we were getting somewhere the way she was melting against my body.
I should definitely kill Joyce.
“I can’t deny that it does wonders for my ego that one single night could still cause so much enviousness.” I say it for Ember’s benefit; she needs to know that Joyce is nothing, less than nothing to me.
“You motherfu—” Joyce hisses.
“I said enough,” Sebastian’s voice booms.
Ember’s breath hitches and she becomes more pliant in my lap again. Her body is warm, her hair is near my face, but I don’t dare sneaking a sniff as the council surrounds us.
Part of me wants this frivolous meeting to last all night so that she’ll stay perched against me. Yet, the deeper part of me wants her safe. That is the most important thing above all else.
“The Slayer is injured, last seen two nights ago. He’s lost a lot of blood. He’s compressed inside of a human male who is likely around thirty. Dark hair, brown eyes, above average height and build, black tattoos up and down the lengths of his arms.” I give them as much information I can reveal without putting Ember in harm’s way.
“How was he injured?” Justin questions.
I hate that prick so much. He was turned only a decade ago in his late forties and assumes because he appears physically older than all of us that he automatically deserves respect.
“I sunk my teeth in his neck.”
“Then why is he not dead, drained dry, the Slayer being dragged back to hell or wherever they preside until they’re summoned into another host?” Beatrix asks.
“Because I was staked.”
Ember wiggles her ass in my lap and I hope she doesn’t take offence at the fact that I’m not rock hard right now. If I wasn’t so starved, I know it would be rubbing against her backside. Perhaps it’s for the best.
Being hard and aching would likely be more embarrassing than anything else that happens this evening.
“Yet, you live to tell the tale?” Sebastian questions.
“In the stomach. Hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?” I say to Joyce.
Her lips purse, but Sebastian ignores it.
“He did not end you and you did not end him. I don’t understand.”
“His stakes, they're imbued with some sort of magic. A vampire can not remove their stakes. If it had been left in me, despite not being in the heart, I would have died,” I state.
“Who removed the stake?”
“Ember did,” I reply honestly.
He doesn’t need to know that we were at her cottage, that she didn’t really want to do it, but did it despite herself.
“Hmmm. I see. This Slayer is strong, a bigger problem than your nest can handle. We’ll bring in more vampires and mortal alliances to help with this issue. I assume you have enough space to accommodate the council while we assess this issue?”
Fuck.
If I tell them to leave, it will make everything more suspicious. If I let them stay, then Ember will be in danger. As soon as the Slayer is dead, they’ll leave.
