That gets my feet moving.
Not because I’m obedient.
Because I’m calculating.
If I stay standing, I’m a spectacle. A target. If I sit, I can watch without looking like I’m watching. I can listen without being obvious.
I slide onto a barstool, keeping my posture steady, my hands in my lap, my breathing controlled.
The gray-haired vampire leans his forearms on the bar beside me like we’re old friends sharing a drink.
He smells like dust, old cologne, and something rotten underneath it.
“You’re going to tell me why the King cares,” he says casually.
My stomach tightens. “He doesn’t.”
That gets a bark of laughter from one of the vampires behind us.
The gray-haired vampire turns just enough to shoot him a look. The laughter dies instantly.
Interesting.
He’s not just some random predator. He’s got weight here.
He looks back at me. “You really think I didn’t see the way he looked at you?”
I don’t answer.
He continues anyway, voice soft like he’s trying to coax. “It’s been a long time since Orpheus has been distracted. He doesn’t get distracted. He doesn’t get involved.”
My skin prickles.
I keep my face blank, but my heart speeds up.
The gray-haired vampire taps a finger on the bar. “So talk.”
I swallow. “About what?”
“About you,” he replies. “What makes you special?”
I laugh once sharply. “I’m not special.”
His eyes gleam. “That’s not what I asked.”
I force myself to look at him fully. “Why do you care?”
He smiles. “Because you’re leverage.”
The word lands like a slap.
I inhale slowly, trying to steady the panic that rises anyway. “So, this is about Orpheus.”
“Everything is about Orpheus,” he says, and the humor drops out of his voice. “He’s been sitting on that throne like he’s the only one who matters. Like the rest of us are just bodies to step on.”
I feel the room around us shift. Several vampires murmur in agreement.
The gray-haired vampire leans closer. “The old blood thinks they’re untouchable. The new blood is tired of kneeling. It’s time for a new King.”
