“I hope you will allow me to convey my condolences,” he said, his voice thin but somehow strong.
I relaxed a little, though my spine shivered with unease. Where was Vincent when we needed him? I wanted to know who this was, and where he sat in the hierarchy.
“Of course,” I managed to say. “Did you know my father?”
The vampire smiled and his fangs protruded over his lip.
I inhaled against the fear that pushed through my heart. Was he here to feed on us? Or was that normal for a vampire of his age?
He must have noticed our shock because he gestured to his teeth. “I apologize. Once you reach a thousand years old, they do not retract as they do in the young.”
I swallowed hard and glanced at Terry, who was looking uncharacteristically pale.
He was how old? Holy shit!
“Thank you for explaining that... ah... I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“I am Bartholomew,” the vampire Father said and held out a wrinkled hand.
I took it, and shuddered at the coldness of his skin. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but an icicle wasn’t it.
“I’m Sadie Williams.” I said, probably unnecessarily. “And this is Fridge and Rogan. Two of the men who worked for my dad.” I gestured to my men, whose edges seemed to have sharpened since the vampire walked in.
“Charmed,” Bartholomew said, inclining his head.
He didn’t say anything else, but I had to assume he was here for a reason. I took a step closer and made eye contact with the paranormal who could be the one responsible for my father’s death. My stomach clenched at the thought and my mouth ran dry.
Was he here to gloat?
“I’m sorry,” I started, though I wasn’t sorry at all. “I don’t think you had time to answer my first question. Did you know my father at all?”
Bartholomew nodded and smiled again, flashing his gnarly fangs that made me shudder. How many people had he sunk those things into over the centuries he’d been alive?
Probably too many to count.
“I did. I was a client of your father’s business for many years. Terry was one of the men who worked my bounties, did you not... Terry?”
Terry nodded stiffly then met my gaze with an expression that spoke of true fear.
And my Uncle Terry wasn’t afraid of anyone. Or, at least he hadn’t been, back in the day.
Since when did my father work with vampires?
“Yes,” he squeaked, then cleared his throat loudly. “Yes, I was.”
I put up a hand, my heartbeat quickening with my impatience. “I’m sorry. But why do I get the feeling you’re here to deliver a message, Bart?”
The old vampire’s mouth twitched. He didn’t like the shortening of his name, obviously, but I didn’t take it back.
He wouldn’t dare attack me here, in broad daylight, surely? We had so many laws in this city about vampire feedings, and there were too many witnesses to buy off.
But suddenly his face cleared and he began to laugh.
I glanced at Rogan, then Fridge. They both looked as worried and surprised as I felt.
When I turned back to the vampire, he was grinning and chortling still.
“What’s so funny?” I asked him.
“You’re so much like your father,” he said, shaking his head. Then the laughing stopped and he met my gaze. “He never knew when to back down, Sadie, and I hope you’ll learn the lesson that he should have.”
Fridge’s rumbling growl rolled out beside me and I put a hand on his arm, stopping my mate from launching at the vampire in front of me.
Fridge may have been huge and powerful, but he was a thirty-year-old shifter with only moderate control over his dragon. He was no match for a truly ancient vampire.
Instead, I steeled myself to go toe-to-toe with the creep. “Are you threatening me?”
He grinned and inclined his head regally.
That was a yes?
I wanted to vomit. Here he was, literally telling me that he was the one who’d killed my father and he expected me to back off?
Another growl sounded, and this time it was from my left side. The wolf was enraged, and that was the last thing I needed. Rogan would never survive a clash with this vampire.
And in that moment, I saw with such clarity how important it was to keep my mates alive. Out of danger.
I wanted revenge for my father’s murder, but not at the expense of the men at my side.
Though my stomach twisted with anger and my fingers twitched to grab for the blade strapped to my ankle, I put my other hand out, halting Rogan. “Why are you here Bart? To spit in our faces?”
He frowned. “I would never do such a thing.”
I rolled my eyes. Fucking vampires were so literal. “Are you going to tell me who killed my father?”
He smiled, then slowly shook his head. “No. I cannot.”
I groaned, annoyed at the impotence of the whole situation. “Then why are you here?”
He fixed me with a stare. “To tell you to keep your nose out of our business. Or you... my dear... will find yourself in an urn, right beside your father.”
Chapter 2.
Vincent.
I zipped through the streets, hating the sting and draining heat of the sunlight on my face.
“You’re a fool.” I muttered to myself as I wound through the city, navigating my way to the small banquet hall where Sadie was having her father’s funeral.
I should never have let them go alone.
My body ached from being outside at this time of day. The air was thin. The sun was harsh. My skin was going to feel like dried out newspaper tonight. Not to mention the fact I’d need to sleep most of the night to recover.
But it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was finding Sadie and her mates—my mates—and making sure they were okay.
I began to run. If I moved at my vampire pace, I’d be reported. And no one liked a vamp who broke the rules in this city. Especially a vampire like me, who’d been ex-communicated for refusing a direct order from a Father.
But since running was a typical human activity, I ran at a semi “normal” pace.
All the way to the funeral location.
I stopped dead in my tracks as I entered the parking lot. I inhaled sharply, the scent of a Father nearby.
“Fuck!” It was a word I didn’t utter often or lightly.
There was nothing like the smell of a truly ancient vampire. Well over a thousand years old, they had a tell-tale scent... of age. Of experience. Of murder and death.
I couldn’t tell who it was, and I didn’t care. Whoever it was, it spelled trouble.
I raced inside and flew straight through the busy main room, through the adjoining open door and to where I saw Sadie standing with Fridge and Rogan.
Their faces were twisted into scowls and they were all glaring at a man standing opposite them with long, silver hair.
Oh God, no... which one of them is it?
They all look the same.
I gritted my teeth and plunged into the scene, calling myself ten times a fool for allowing them all to go out alone. This could have been avoided if I’d been here from the start.
“What’s going on here?” I demanded, drawing the attention of the group and assessing the scene quickly.
Fridge was breathing too heavily and Rogan’s eyes were slanted and yellow.