When she dies, I’ll have to come up with a plan to rattle him back to life. If he survives. The knowledge gave me no pleasure, but it would have to be done.
“I think it’s romantic,” Margarida said. “And I’m happy for you, Killian.” Her sharpness didn’t fade—she was still too angry—but the smile she gave Killian was real enough.
“It’s silly,” Amée said. “If he was going to love someone, he should have at least gone for another vampire. He could have had his pick.”
“Why bother?” Baldwin snorted as he cut another piece of steak. “Love is such a temporary thing. It’ll fade before his human dies.”
“True, true.” Amée laughed. “You won’t be able to say we didn’t warn you, Killian!” Her laugh was sharp and staccato, and it made Killian narrow his eyes.
I tapped the side of my glass mug as I watched the exchange. It seems they are rallying for round two. Just how wanton for punishment are they?
Auberi, as if to prove my point, rested his hands on the edge of his table. “Indeed. I, for one, will look forward to his fall. I’m sure it will be glorious.” He glanced at Killian to see how the barb had landed.
Killian yawned and looked bored.
“Careful, Auberi. He is a Dracos, too,” Amée said, but there was a hint of a cruel smile on her lips. “But I suppose we should have prepared ourselves for this day when he made a play to become the Eminence of this region.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though why would he wish to rule over the Midwest of all places, when it has more humans than supernaturals?”
“Maybe that’s why,” Baldwin said into his cup. “Perhaps he’s been weak to humans all along.” Baldwin puffed his chest up, seemingly with confidence. But when Killian shifted in his seat, he flinched in fear.
“Killian is Killian,” Margarida flicked a lock of her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “It goes without saying that he chose the Midwest for a strategic reason he isn’t likely to share.” She smiled, but it still had that sharp feral edge to it. “I think it’s admirable—he’s done more in the past five decades than you’ve done in the entirety of your much longer life.”
Amée’s pale face scrunched up in a snarl.
“Human lover,” Auberi declared.
“So?” Margarida demanded.
“Amée, Auberi, once again I suggest you don’t try to pick fights in my hall,” Killian blandly suggested. “Not that I mind, but my Family is possibly more protective of humans than I am, so you might not survive your stay.”
Amée scoffed and looked away.
Auberi looked suitably cowed, but for the sake of his pride he pushed on. “Dress it up as you will, humans are only good for their blood.”
That got a scowl out Killian, but Auberi wasn’t done.
“Your One,” he continued, “will never be your equal, and what you feel for her is a farce.”
My indifference evaporated, and I reacted without thinking. “Enough.” I put my power into the word, filling the room with my presence.
The Dracos children fell silent—because they had to go silent. The power in my word kept their jaws shut.
Margarida was trembling like a leaf, Amée was so pale she looked faint, and even Auberi and Baldwin were shaking in fear.
I exhaled deeply. That might have been an overreaction. The sudden burst of anger had surprised even me, and I didn’t want to internally investigate the source of my outburst, though I had a fairly good idea it involved a certain red-haired slayer.
Perhaps I’m closer to danger than I thought.
I set my mug down and surveyed the table.
All of them—Margarida, Amée, Auberi, and Baldwin—stared at the table surface as they were unable to look at me. Except, that is, for Killian.
He wore a thoughtful expression—one I didn’t particularly like.
I swatted my power off, though the pressure lingered in the air like an unwanted relative.
“Stop arguing,” I said. “You’re irritating me more than usual, and with so many of you in one room I don’t have much patience for your antics.” It had my usual sardonic tone and it seemed plausible, but Killian’s expression didn’t change.
The smallest hint of a smirk slanted the right corner of his mouth, but his siblings didn’t seem to pick up on his good mood. They sat quietly in their chairs.
“Yes, Elder Maledictus,” they murmured.
I sighed and stood up. “Next time I drop in, I expect you won’t be arguing like children. If I do, that will make me worry for you. And if I worry, I’ll have to visit you, at your home, with your vampire Family around you, just to reassure myself.”