Calloway steps closer. “We’ve never interfered in the elite’s bullshit, Rook. No one has.”
“I know.”
“It’s bullshit. It’s always been bullshit. We all know that,” Kane adds. “But once you step in, you don’t step back out.”
“I know,” I say.
“Because once you take a woman off their board,” Kane continues, “you’re not just breaking etiquette. You’re declaring war.”
“I didn’t choose this. I wouldn’t have chosen this, and I don’t think Kylie would have either. But it’s happening.”
Calloway’s voice is careful. “She doesn’t know?”
I turn away, staring at the concrete floor—at the dark stains where cars have leaked their insides to the point of extinction and then been brought back to life at my brother’s hands. But all I can truly see—all I can feel—is Kylie being taken without her consent.
It’s one thing when the women know—when they’re excited—but it’s wholly another when they’re born into the distinction without a choice or an option to take another road.
“No, she doesn’t know,” I agree. “She doesn’t know her bloodline is special. She doesn’t know anything. She’s clueless.”
Cal drags a hand through his hair. “How the hell is she clueless? I’ve heard of women not wanting to be a part of it, but they alwaysknow—”
“Because someone kept her that way,” Kane answers before I can. “Because she wasn’t raised in it. Her parents died when she was a baby. I looked it up as soon as Rook started making starry eyes at her.”
“Are you fucking sure?” Calloway’s gaze stays on me. “Because if we move on this and she knew and wanted it…”
“She doesn’t want it,” I affirm.I’m not even sure she’ll want me.
“Some of them think it’s a damn status symbol,” Kane says through a sigh. “Like being sold to monsters makes them special.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not Kylie.”
I step away from them, pacing once, then again. The garage feels too small. The lights too bright. The walls too close.
“I heard him mention Friday,” I say, stopping by the open garage door and looking toward the dark night sky. “At the rink. Private thing. He called itnetworking.”
Kane scoffs. “Networking. Sure.”
Calloway’s face goes sharper. “He said Friday?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. “And he keeps pushing it to her. He won’t let go of that date. Of that timeline. He wants her there badly enough, I think they might be eager to get her in hand.”
Calloway doesn’t hesitate. “They know she’s involuntary.”
“Yeah,” I say. “And she doesn’t fucking know aboutanyof it. Hell, she’s still deciding what she wants for dinner, not whether she wants to disappear to some New York penthouse to be vampire fuel on demand.”
Calloway’s jaw tightens. “And that makes her—”
“Human,” I cut in. “It makes her human.”
The words come out sharper than I mean them to, but I can’t fight the sting enough to hold them back. None of this is even remotely fair to her because it’s not her horse, and it’s sure as hell not her rodeo. Our vampire bullshit isn’t supposed to be her problem. But it is.
Itvery muchis.
“Jesus.” Kane scrubs a hand over his face. “Not going to lie, this is all pretty fucked. I mean,fuck. This isfucked.”
“So, Friday,” Cal says, his voice hesitant. “You think that’s when they move.”
Unfortunately, I know it is. I can feel it in flesh and bone.
“And you think you can stop it,” Kane chimes in.
