“And if you’ve done your job in selling me as the Parousia, they might at least hesitate.”
“They might,” she conceded. “We can fly the sunborn banner in the grand hall. Take their temperature on the matter.”
“And I need to know more about the sunborn. What were their powers?”
“They were leaders among men.”
“What does that mean?” I said, frustrated.
“They inspired men to fight and die for them. They built empires. They birthed the kings and queens of nations. To rule was their divine right.”
It all sounded too vague. Royal blood wasn’t enough to qualify me for the job of Parousia. I wanted something tangible. Something I could use.
“I miss my seduction,” I admitted. I hadn’t wanted you to feel bad about it, or responsible, so I hardly mentioned it to you at all. But oftentimes I’d reach for it, only to find it missing, like a phantom limb.
“There are other methods, Vincent. Even without your eyes, you’re not powerless.”
You’d always relied on your voice to compel your subjects. And Lucian’s thrall was more like a parasitic worm.
“I used to get better results when I touched someone, skin-to-skin.”
“Begin there. Establish a physical connection first to soften their resolve, and then ease into the mental. Start with simple commands.”
“How will I know if my subject is being compelled by seduction or if they’re following my orders simply because they want to please me?”
Mater placed her hand on my wrist, rubbing the pad of her thumb lightly over my pressure point, and said in her melodic voice, “I’ve been on my feet all day, and they’re terribly sore. If only I could rest them for a moment. If only there was some way to ease the pain.”
With the exception of bathing her in the mine, I’d never touched her feet in my life, but in that moment, I felt a strong compulsion to rub them for her.
“Were you angling for a foot massage?” I asked.
She nodded. “The art of seduction is leading your subject to believe it’s their idea.”
“But does that only work on people who care?”
“That’s where you begin. Then acquaintances, strangers. You work your way up until you’re seducing your enemies. Similar to how I trained you before. You practice the skill until you’re proficient. And then you practice it some more.” She glanced over at your sleeping form. “Henri would be an excellent place to start.”
I felt bad for even considering it. You didn’t like being seduced in that way, though that had never stopped you from using your powers to soothe me. Was one more acceptable than the other?
“Does this mean we’re working together?” Mater asked, a bit of her haughtiness returning. She’d never really apologized. I doubted my forgiveness was all that important to her anyway.
I could only trust Mater if our goals were in perfect alignment, or as long as she needed me. But did I need her? Unfortunately, I did. At least until I gained the trust of the Grigori elders.
“No more lies or deception,” I told her. “At least, not with me. If you have a scheme, you’d better let me in on it. And when the Grigori arrive, treat me as an equal and not like a kid.”
“As it pleases you, my prince.” She bowed slightly, as if proving she could play the part. “After all, the throne only seats one.”
“Acta non verba,” I reminded her. Actions, not words. “This is your last chance.”
“Perhaps you can put in a good word with Henri? His thoughts are terribly transparent. And matricide would not become him.”
“You’ve treated him despicably, Mater. I doubt he’ll ever forgive you.”
“Surely, you could persuade him?”
I didn’t mind that you had a legitimate hatred for her. She’d earned it. And I needed your protection in case I fell into her clutches again.
“I can’t control him.” Nor did I want to.
She made a noise of disagreement. “Then perhaps you could remind him of the benefits of keeping me alive?”
“Perhaps,” I said, not trusting her motives.
“Very well. Sleep well, my prince.” She bowed again and floated out of the library as silently as she’d come, with my cat hissing at her heels.
“What do you think, Spooky?” I said softly. “Should I trust her?”
Spooky stared at me with her lettuce yellow eyes and bared her pointy fangs, making her distaste for our mother known.
“I agree that she’s a menace.” I picked her up, nuzzled her head, and stroked her soft, black fur. “But we need her. For now.”
