I had to do it myself.
I stepped around the corner. “Gentlemen, I have a different solution.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was time to start owning my fate, my life, and my decisions.
If we were going to find a way out of this mess, it had to be ahumansolution. Not a “human adjacent” or “repurposed people” solution. Not a greedy and powerful solution.
If this world stood a chance against vampires who wanted to suck us dry,wehad to be in charge.
And by “we,” I meant all of the sane, rational, everyday humans who didn’t subscribe to anything other than leaving the world a better place than we found it. To a future where families could live without fear of vampire violence. A future where our children could learn, explore, and live without becoming a walking fat solid for a curated tasting menu.A crop.
Also, to hell with the dirty humans who intended to profit from step one of human subjugation: the Repurposed People Act.
After all, for them to agree to this bill meant they’d sold us out for whatever enticements they’dbeen offered by vampires. Land, power, money. Spa treatments. Whatever.
We were nothing more than a crop to them, too.
Working people, a crop. Students, a crop. Homeless, a crop. Drug addicts, crime and criminals, illness, the elderly, immigrants, depression, obesity, hope, fear, loneliness, social media, war, hate, love, sex…All a crop.Our humanity didn’t matter to those people or to vampires. Only our potential for exploitation did.
The irony was that vampires were pulling a page fromtheirbook. Now, the corrupt and powerful, who’d reduced us to revenue streams, were about to be robbed of their freedom, too. If Roman got into power, same for the vampires.
It was why the antidote had to come from me.
From everyone like me.
No, not sassy or Southern. Not goofy or sometimes filled with regrets and doubt, but from a real person. Real. Loving. Filled with hope for a better world and with an appreciation of everything good we still had.
“There she is! The legendary Anna.” Roman zipped over and took my hand, placing a sloppy, ice-cold kiss on it.
Why were his lips freezing when Stark’s always felt so warm?
“It is an honor to meet you in person,” Roman said. He was a short mancompared to Stark, but Roman had a very beefy physique, almost like a roid-pumped bodybuilder.
Stark glared at me from behind Roman.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” I replied sweetly, retracting my hand and wiping off the slobber behind my back.My poor T-shirt.
Stark chimed in, “Roman and I were just discussing a way to evade war.”
“I heard,” I growled subtly. “Every word. And, Roman, you were right. You are…” I looked him up and down, “so good looking. You were once a supermodel, right?”
“One of the first.” He ran his hand over his perfectly combed strawberry-blond hair. “Male model of the year. 1880 to 1920.”
I didn’t react to his ridiculousness. “You are a man of true beauty. And I hear you are quite the fighter.”
“I am the best. At everything.” He winked. “I also have a black belt in tai chi.”
Okay.So Stark was afraid to fight him because it might be too relaxing?
Roman added, “But I am most famous for my strangulation technique. Some call me ‘the Python.’” He formed claws with his hands and hissed.
I call you an idiot.
“Excellent,” I said, throwing in some Southern sugar. “Then I say you and Stark fight. Hand-to-hand or fang-to-fang. Whatever. The one who wins will be my husband.”
“Masie!” Stark barked.
