By most metrics, Tai would qualify as a thirty-two-year-old success. He had too much money, a job he enjoyed and excelled at, a few good friends who thought of him as family. The knowledge of his success wasn’t something he thought about much, maybe because unlike Ryker, for Tai achievement had never really been the point. But there was one place that liked to remind him, and that was the quarterly conference of vampires that convened at the home of Dr. Gerald Levine. More specifically the conference suite of the north wing, because of course Dr. Levine’s home had designated wings.
A week ago at this time, Tai had been lifting cars off trapped humans. It had taken until today for his leftover bloodfiend-activated edginess to wear off, but he finally felt normal again. He’d taken Claire to dinner Tuesday night and discovered her palate really was a marvel. By the time dessert arrived, he was asking her to describe every last thing on her plate, even let her take a few bites off his just to hear her explain how it tasted to her. He’d considered himself something of a foodie for years now, but Claire was next level, able to identify every singleingredient in her mouth and even occasionally hazarding a guess at the age of said ingredients.
When he asked if she’d ever considered becoming a chef, she shrugged.“I’m not interested in that type of creation.”
Since their second date, which went notably better than the first, they’d hardly stopped texting other than their work hours. He’d see her again tomorrow night, but it felt like forever away despite his engagement throughout the meeting tonight.
“Good to have you here,” Laurence Maddox said as he and Tai followed a few others from the conference room to the adjacent room, where refreshments both savory and sweet were spread on a few low tables adorned with lace runners.
“You say that every quarter,” Tai said.
“It’s true every quarter.”
Laurence flashed him a grin and added a few pieces of maki roll to his small plate. Tai followed suit. He and Laurence shared a love of sushi that Ryker hadn’t inherited, and it was…well, kind of nice. It felt like an element of kinship, which was ridiculous, of course. Laurence wasn’t his father, no matter how often the senator called Taison. But every time he did, something plucked a guitar string in Tai’s chest that twanged a low note of happiness.
“You’re exactly who we need in there.” Laurence tipped his head toward the room they’d just exited, the meeting adjourned for another three months. “A young perspective to balance the relics, a perspective that cares about more folks than just vampires.”
Because of that very perspective, Laurence had brought Tai into the group despite the objection of a few of those relics. Ryker had turned his dad down flat, and for a year or so, Tai had thought he was Laurence’s second choice. Not that he’d minded; an honor like this ought to go to Laurence’s blood kin first. But then Laurence had told him he’d asked Tai and Ryker on thesame day, that he’d intended for both of them to join him at the meetings.
The guitar string in Tai’s chest had held its note for the rest of the day.
They drifted and mingled for a few minutes. Then Dr. Levine found them. Tai assumed he wanted to speak to Laurence, but when he began to move away out of courtesy, Dr. Levine stopped him.
“Hold on, Tai, I want you part of this conversation too.”
Yeah, moments like these he remembered all over again just how accomplished others perceived him to be. He shouldn’t belong in this room, sharing opinions and political strategies with the most connected vampires in Virginia. Shoot, Dr. Levine had been a neurosurgeon at least twice as long as Tai had been alive. The man looked to be Tai’s age, but he’d been born before the Second World War.
“So this new health research bill, Laurence. I’ve been hearing it could negatively affect vampire families, and I know you’re planning to endorse it, and I just want to know your reasons.”
“I’ve been hearing that too, and it’s a lot of nonsense, Gerry.” Laurence’s voice boomed no less than normal, but he wasn’t the type of person to care if he was overheard. “I’ll get you the demographics and statistics if you want, but the gist of the matter is, the folks pushing back on it are part of the Vampires First crowd, and you know that’s not where I stand. As vampires we’ve got to use our power and privilege for the whole state, vampires and humans and wolves, as best we can. Funneling our resources only to our kind is an immoral stance, if you ask me.”
“Well, I did ask you,” Dr. Levine said with a laugh, “but everybody here knows you’re against the Vampires First rhetoric.”
“And I’ll keep saying it.”
Dr. Levine nodded slowly, thoughtful for a moment. Then he turned to Tai. “I want to hear from all ages on this. Goodness knows a vampire as old as me needs to pay attention to everybody’s thoughts, not only folks my own age.”
Tai hadn’t looked deeply into why a sect of vampires would oppose the bill, but he knew a little about the bill itself. Any policy dealing with health research, even if not concerned with the specific genetic disorders tackled by the Josie Strong Foundation, was near enough his own work for him to keep an eye on it.
The next few minutes, the three of them launched into a deeper analysis of pros and cons, and by the time Dr. Levine moved on, Tai knew he’d done a good job defending the importance of the bill, how many people—vampire, human, maybe even wolf—would be helped by it.
“Strong words, son.” Laurence clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a dang talented communicator, you know.”
“Thanks, Laurence.”Dad.He wished he could say it, but of course he couldn’t.
He hadn’t had a father since his eighteenth birthday and got along fine without one. Strange, stupid that the loss could still open a throbbing pit in his chest.
Before he could fall too far into the pit, the universe sent a distraction. From the other side of the room, Broderick approached with his focus on the refreshments. He hardly noticed Laurence and Tai until he’d refilled his plate with lamb skewers and salmon-mousse-topped cucumber slices. Dr. Levine’s concept of “snacks” was most people’s concept of high-end hors d’oeuvres.
“Oh, hey,” Broderick said.
Tai nodded to him. The universe could have picked a more pleasant distraction, but whatever.
“How about that thing Fred Grunbock was talking about, huh? That girl who’s going around stalking guys at clubs?”
“He didn’t say she was stalking them,” Tai said. “He said she was turning them in to the police after they tried to attack her.”
“Yeah, yeah,aftershe baited them, though. What a crock, right?”
