“As you like.” Father’s mouth twitched, more grimace than smile. “I’ll also throw in your freedom.”
That one word landed heavier than anything else he’d said. Freedom. The thing we’d been fighting for since we were old enough to understand what chains looked like.
“You agree to this marriage, and I will release you from all familiar obligations. No more court appearances. No more political games. When I need hunters, I’ll hire you as contracted employees like everyone else, or we can work out a retainer salary if you prefer.”
The three of us exchanged glances. We didn’t need to speak to know what the others were thinking. A life of our own beyond the tangled web of vampire politics. Away from Father’s manipulations, his subtle cruelties, his impossible expectations. And all it would cost was a year of our lives and potentially our safety. A bargain, by his standards.
Time meant nothing to vampires. They collected it like loose change, spending decades as humans spent hours. It gave Father an advantage in every negotiation, the knowledge that he could outwait us, outlive us if necessary. He had millennia to work with; we didn’t.
“Damn, Pops! You must really want eyes on Arabesque!” Zane exclaimed with a low whistle.
Father’s gaze didn’t waver as he admitted he did.
“She’s been too quiet for too long. When creatures like Arabesque go quiet, they’re not quitting. They’re spinning a larger web.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment. From what I knew of her, Arabesque wasn’t the type to fade quietly into obscurity. She’d want power and dominance, and perhaps even vengeance for her failure in South America.
“We all three have to marry her daughters?” I was already calculating logistics. A household with multiple brides would be complicated, especially if they didn’t get along.
“No, only one daughter,” Father clarified. “You may select amongst yourselves who will be the groom, but I thought you’d rather stay together than separate for a year.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. The thought of being apart from my brothers sent a wave of unease through me. We’d never been separated for more than a few hours since birth. Even when Father tried to pit us against each other in training, we found ways to maintain our bond. It was another thing he’d never managed to break.
“One bride, three grooms.” Zane gave a lazy salute. “Hope this girl of Arabesque’s is sturdy.”
Ko smacked the back of his head, and Father’s mouth twitched in something that might have been amusement. It was strange, that tiny flicker of almost-normalcy, like a glimpse into what might have been in another life. If he’d been just a father, not a tyrant. If we’d been just sons, not weapons.
The thought burned, and I pushed it away. No use dwelling on impossibilities.
“We’ll need information,” I pointed out, knowing Ko wouldn’t talk unless he had to and all Z was good for was wisecracks. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Father nodded, then explained the terms of the marriage contract, at least from our side, although none of us knew what Arabesque had promised the ‘bride’ for her participation. Then he slid a dossier across the desk, and Zane grabbed it before I could.
“Which daughter are we getting?” He flipped through, looking for photos like it was a moon-damned dating service.
“We know for a fact that she has twin daughters who are eighteen. Both air witches, like their mother. Whether they are Dark or not remains unclear, but I think we all know. It’s possible that she has other children we aren’t aware of; however, she didn’t specify it would be herdaughter, only a female from her household.”
“Purposefully vague,” I muttered.
“Agreed.” Father nodded. “Regardless, whoever she chooses will be expendable.”
“Nice way of saying she’ll probably be clueless,” Z scoffed, and I took charge of the dossier before he could lose or damage anything. “Still, if we uncover Arabesque’s target, we can act against her. Since we won’t be part of the vampire court anymore, we won’t be held to the truce.”
“Precisely.” Father’s expression didn’t change, but there was approval in his eyes.
“And if she attacks one of your allies?” Zane arched an eyebrow.
“That might be another reason she wants a truce,” Father said with a shrug. “To cause a rift or perhaps a hesitation on my part to act.”
Surprising me, Ko’s smooth baritone came from behind me, making even Father sit up a fraction straighter. Ko very rarely spoke in his presence at all and never about anything personal. Not since the day Mom died and the three of us were left standing alone at her grave.
“We don’t want awife. We want ourbeloved.”
Beloved. If there was one word guaranteed to stop a dhampir or vampire in his tracks, it was that. The soulmate bond, rare and precious, formed instantly upon eye contact. Something Father had had the great good fortune to experience twice in his long life, and something most dhampirs never got to experience at all.
“It’s only for a year. The contract does not require consummation. And besides.” Father paused, his voice turning softer, almost pitying, which was almost as shocking as Ko actually speaking to the man. “You know dhampirs rarely have a beloved.”
Hurt flashed in Zane’s eyes, the same pang that ripped across my own heart. It was a hollow ache I felt every time I was reminded of what I’d likely never have. Zane and I rarely discussed the topic. Some wounds were too deep to acknowledge aloud. Ko, however, occasionally murmured about our theoretical beloved. What she’d be like. Her interests. How she’d look at us. A wistful dream that kept him from eating his gun some nights.
