Auberi swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and Amée looked away.
I patted them on the cheeks, purposely making the motion gentle and light so it gave them goosebumps. “Stop wasting your time.” I ducked around them heading for the door. “Instead, I suggest you head home—before you annoy Killian and he forcibly expels you from his mansion.” I made it to the door and reached for the door handle.
“No.”
I slowly turned around to see Baldwin scowling at me, his shoulders hunched up, while Margarida patted his side in a show of comradery.
“What?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.
Baldwin wilted, but he balled his hands into fists. “No,” he said. “We will be staying here.”
He must have been dimly aware that the statement not only challenged me but Killian, because he glanced at his younger brother.
Killian was unbothered—he’d tuned out a while ago and was texting someone with his cellphone. Without looking up from the screen, he waved a hand in the air signaling his indifference.
Baldwin stiffly nodded then returned my gaze, his mulish expression back.
I rolled my eyes. “Do whatever you want,” I said. “Just remember your responsibility to your own Family, who you chose to take on. The Dracos do not abandon their offspring.”
Unlike their foolish, idealist, and disappointing Sire.
I yanked the door open and swept out of the room, irritation settling on me like an old cloak.
It doesn’t matter, I thought as I prowled the hallways of Drake Hall—I needed to get far out of the range of the manor’s cameras before I used my powers to transform into a bat. There was no sense tipping my hand to Killian in how I’d been evading his Family’s notice. The Dracos offspring are annoying, but they’ll just sit around and mewl as they always have. Eventually, Killian will boot them out, and they’ll go home returning to their typical selfish ways.
In the end, it was always up to me to pick up after them and shake them awake whenever needed. It was a task I grew weary of, but it was unfortunately one I wouldn’t ever be able to escape.
Sometimes, I despise you, Ambrose.
CHAPTER
THREE
Jade
“We don’t mean you any harm, but you seem uncomfortable.” I tried to make my voice soothing but I sounded as warm as cardboard. “Can we escort you to a part of the city that you would enjoy more?”
The two werewolves I was addressing whined and licked their chops.
The larger one was almost all black with a brush of red and gray worked into his undercoat. The smaller one was wider through the chest, and her coat was white swirled with gray.
She glanced at the building next to us—a human club that blasted music so loudly I could feel it thrum in my feet.
Meanwhile the male werewolf sneezed and looked beyond me, where my teammates—Tetiana and Grove—were holding back a crowd of humans.
The crowd—filled with people who I expected were at least slightly intoxicated—was loud, and even I could smell the perfumes and body sprays they’d liberally dosed themselves with, which was probably making the werewolves sick to their stomachs with their sensitive olfactory systems.
“Magiford is holding a local festival this weekend called Octoberfest,” I said. “So even though it’s only Thursday, there’s more humans out than usual,” I tried to explain to the over stimulated wolves.
They aren’t going to hurt anyone, but if they bolt, the humans will freak. I need to keep everyone calm.
Crowd control wasn’t usually my responsibility when my slayer family stalked a target, but I knew the basics.
Behind me, a human shrilly laughed and the flash of several dozen cellphone cameras illuminated the area making the werewolves’ pupils shrink.
I slowly held my hands up and did my best to keep my breathing deep and even, and my heartbeat regular.
This would work better if I took off my mask so they could see my face, but I don’t think I can do that without scaring them.
I was wearing the traditional slayer mask, which hid my identity and hooked into the special hood I’d added onto my task force uniform.
Slayers weren’t very popular among vampires. I’d been wearing the mask since joining the Magical Response Task Force to hide my true identity so that I didn’t need to worry about my apartment getting staked out by vengeful vampires.
The wolves, however, didn’t fear me like a vampire naturally would but they were big into body language, so not seeing my face likely bothered them.
The almost entirely black werewolf yawned hugely, whining slightly in the process—which I was pretty sure meant he was stressed.