“You’re not surprised,” Robert observed.
“No. Covens like that - old money, old rules, old vampires - they always think they’re above human law.” Viktor’s jaw tightened briefly. “They forget that the world moved on without them decades ago.”
“Well, this particular coven is done,” Bridget said with satisfaction. “The Raven Estate will be dismantled, the wards will be stripped, and the property will be sold. Every cent goes toward restitution.”
“Forty families,” Ant murmured. “That’s significant.”
“Forty-three confirmed victims, spanning six decades. Some of them are elderly now. Some of them were enthralled as young adults and had their entire inheritances stolen. Others are middle-aged and have lost their parents’ estates. A few are recent cases, like Ronald Finch.” Bridget’s expression softened. “They’re all going to get justice. Because of you.”
Ant shook his head. “Viktor kept me alive.”
“You figured out the evidence chain,” Viktor countered.
“Robert provided the ward analysis.”
“Bridget mobilized the Justiciary,” Robert added.
“Able stood guard,” Viktor finished. Under the table, the German shepherd’s tail thumped in agreement.
Bridget laughed. “Fine. It was a team effort. Now, can we please talk about literally anything else? I’ve been drowning in legal paperwork for three days straight, and if I have to read one more motion to dismiss I’m going to lose my mind.”
“What would you prefer to discuss?” Ant asked.
“Anything. The weather. Sports. Celebrity gossip. Whether pineapple belongs on pizza.”
“It does not,” Viktor said immediately.
“Thank you,” Bridget said. “See? This is why I like you.”
Robert raised his hand tentatively. “I actually don’t mind pineapple on pizza.”
Bridget stared at him. “We need to talk.”
“It’s a textural contrast…”
“Nope. No. We’re breaking up.”
“Bridget…”
“I’m joking.” She kissed his cheek. “But you’re wrong, and I’m judging you for it.”
Ant watched the easy affection between his sister and her boyfriend, the way Viktor relaxed further into his chair as the conversation drifted away from Claudius and the Raven Estate.This is what normal looks like,he realized.Dinner with family, ridiculous debates about food, and even a loyal dog hoping for scraps under the table.
For someone who struggled to describe emotional subtext and who approached the world through logic and literal interpretation, Ant found these moments surprisingly easy to understand. Because there was nothing subtle about the warmth in the room, and nothing hidden in the loyalty between him and Viktor, or the protective love Bridget showed every day, or Robert’s gentle steadiness.
I may not understand all the social cues,Ant thought,but I understand this.
“…and that’s when the tire exploded,” Bridget was saying, gesturing animatedly. “We’re in the middle of the highway, and it’s rush hour traffic. Robert pulled over, opened the trunk, anddiscovered that not only was there no spare, but someone had replaced the jack with a bag of potatoes.”
“Potatoes?” Viktor repeated.
“Five pounds of russet potatoes,” Robert confirmed, looking pained. “I still don’t know how they got there.”
Ant blinked. “Why would someone replace a jack with potatoes?”
“That’s what I said!” Bridget threw her hands up. “But there we were, stranded on the side of the road with no spare tire, no jack, and enough potatoes to make dinner for six people, which was useless at the time because we didn’t even have a camp stove.”
“What did you do?” Viktor asked, genuinely curious now.
