CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The Nostra Empire is mine.
I should feel elated, but my chest feels empty.
Without my pack, the family I’ve found, and without the keeper, there is only the cold comfort of a power I’ve paid a heavy price to claim.
I need to get back to the keeper as quickly as I can, but I also can’t rush this initial time with the leaders of the dark families, not when my reign is new.
No matter how much blood I shed to get to this point, I have to solidify my intentions and my control while the scent of death is heavy in the air to ensure there are no creeping doubts in their minds.
It takes an hour to give the leaders their orders and set my ground rules.
They don’t like my rules, just as I anticipated. Telling dark creatures to curb the worst of their natures is no small thing. But they can also see the benefits. Reduced heat from the Assassin’s Legion, for one.
The whole time, I shun the throne my father lounged on. I’ll have the damn thing destroyed the first chance I get.
When Gad and Valki finally slink into the room, cautiously asking if I need anything, I tell them to bring towels.
Then, when the leaders finally disperse, each one bowing to me and restating their allegiance, Valki asks me if I want a shower.
She and Gad stand nervously, watching me as I consider her question.
I guess they’re wondering if I’m going to kill them.
“A shower. Clean clothes. And the quickest passage southwest,” I say before I give them a hard stare. “I have something to take care of and then I’ll be back. When I return, you will be ready to show me every corner of this place and tell me everything you know about my empire. Even if you think I won’t like to hear it. I want truth, not lies.”
They glance at each other. “We can do that.”
“Good.” I don’t trust them enough to tell them where I’m going—the location of the apartment. That sort of trust has to be earned—and right now, they’re afraid of me, not loyal. I’ll separate from them before I get anywhere near the apartment just to be safe.
I would be more worried about leaving these premises if the Nostra Empire revolved around its buildings or any particular territory, but it doesn’t.
It revolves around its ruler.
Wherever I go, that’s where the empire is.
Another hour later, I’ve washed, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that fit me well enough, and left the underground pathways beneath the White Wing Tavern behind, along with Gad and Valki.
I make it back to the apartment just as the sun is rising, only to realize that I don’t have a key.
Before I consider how to break in without damaging the door too badly, it flies open, and Anarchy stands within it.
“Darkness!” she scolds me. “Where have you?—?”
She inhales deeply before her pupils dilate, and she quickly pulls me inside, leaning close to me.
“Any chance you were covered in gargoyle blood a short while ago?” she asks while her brothers gravitate toward me.
Shadow panthers crave gargoyle blood, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
I catch sight of Lucian in the background. I’m certain that Orlan must have brought my pack here—a certainty that’s confirmed when the bright-eyed warlock steps into view from the side of the lounge room.
“Keep your licking to yourselves,” I grumble at the dark elves as they crowd me.
It can’t help that I’m carrying my mother’s shirt and the black sash in a plastic bag—both of which I quickly washed but haven’t properly cleaned. The material was soaked in gargoyle blood.
Anarchy smacks her lips. “There’s just a little drop you missed right here.”
