Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“You make him sound like an immortal fuckboy.”
Henry laughs. “Please let me be there the first time you call him that to his face. I would take it as a personal favor.”
“And how exactly is he a lone wolf when he has you and the rest of the family?”
“I meant romance-wise,” he says. “Do try and keep up, sweetie. But to watch Father actually attempt to woo someone is…what’s the word?”
“No idea.”
Henry makes a humming noise. “Surprising. Absurd. Riotous. Something along those lines. Not that I don’t support the idea wholeheartedly, don’t get me wrong.”
“I’m not even convinced that wooing me is what he’s doing.”
“No?”
“No,” I confirm. “He killed me. Not that his brother didn’t contribute to that situation.”
“I’m not saying it’s not complicated. But what relationship isn’t?” Henry sighs. “I highly doubt he would bother jumping in front of a bullet for me. Not that I don’t believe I’m a loved and valued member of this family. But still…I think you make the old man feel things he hasn’t experienced in a very long time.”
“He gets off on bossing me around.”
Henry snorts. “Did you seriously expect him to be a beta in the bedroom?”
“I don’t know.” If I frowned any harder my face would fall off. “I think you should mind your own business.”
“Are you truly so against the idea of entering into a romantic relationship with Father? That’s a pity.”
“Henry—”
“Does him being a monster put you off? I understand the pulling out hearts and ripping off heads can be a lot.” Henry gesticulates wildly. “But, sweetie, it’s not like he does it for fun. Well. I mean, that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy it occasionally. There was this one time in Bucharest…actually, I don’t think he would appreciate me telling you that story. And you know even if he finds it fun, it’s not like he actually does it for fun. You know, that doesn’t sound so great, now that I say it out loud. But my point is, I do believe that he mostly only does the heart and head thing when necessary. Mostly.”
I stare at him in wonder.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I say eventually. “And I understand that sort of thing is all tied up in vampire politics and so on.”
“Exactly. What you need to remember is that he isn’t human. He hasn’t been for over a millennia. Your modern ways of thinking and how he sees the world are bound to clash upon occasion.”
“I suppose so.”
“Do you think Father incapable of maintaining such a relationship?”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“Or perhaps you believe yourself to be unworthy of his attentions? He is, after all, rich, handsome, and powerful. I know plenty who would gnaw off a limb for a chance with him.” He pauses and smiles. “Ha. That rhymed.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Shit.
“That was also a trick question,” says Henry, his voice rising in volume. “Little sister, how dare you put yourself down. I will not tolerate it!”
At which point, the bedroom door opens, and Benedict appears. His long blond hair is in a number of intricate braids, and he’s wearing a navy suit with a matching tee beneath. “What are you yelling about?”
“I am outraged. Outraged, I tell you. She doesn’t see that she is all things good and hot in this world.”
I groan loud and proud.
“You do not see your beauty?” Benedict gazes at me in surprise. “Skye, I don’t understand. The people of my village would have been greatly enamored of your bountiful breasts and childbearing hips.”
Henry stares at him in abject horror.
“What?” asks Benedict.
“Oh my God, Vikings,” says Henry. “You couldn’t just say something nice about her hair or eyes or something?”
Benedict frowns. “I was trying to be honest.”
“Wait,” I say. “Why aren’t you with Lucas?”
“Nicholas is with him,” reports Benedict. “You are the known target at the moment and your safety is of importance to Lucas. A successful attack on you would also make the family appear weak.”
“Right.” I finish off the blood bag. “I better get ready so we can go.”
“It should be interesting, if nothing else. They’re having a big party to celebrate him joining the board and our takeover of The Boulevard,” says Henry in his suit. “Father’s exact words were, ‘It is going to be a nice night with no drama where everyone gets along—or else.’”
Benedict grunts. “We’ll see.”
Leilah’s people stand security at the front doors of The Boulevard. A woman in business attire nods at us as we pass the reception desk. The hotel already seems different. Less dusty and decrepit. More alive despite many of the inhabitants being the undead.
Down in the subbasement level, the speakeasy is full to overflowing. A song by Billie Eilish pumps out of the sound system and waiters mingle carrying trays. There’s a choice between a martini glass of blood or a flute of champagne. All of the glasses are crystal, of course—vampires love luxe. This is a party the likes of which I have never seen. All manner of clothing is on show. Top hat and tails, a kimono, a lace gown, and a sari.