Like most of the men in the brood, Ford and Gerry matched society’s general standard for attractive men. Ford embodied everything bodybuilding, likely capable of lifting cars without the benefit of his preternatural strength. Given a pair of pointy ears and longer hair, and he would put most elves to shame, too.
They dove into the board game with delightful enthusiasm, waging a good-natured war with Emerick, while I spent a shameful amount of time admiring the scenery. The dining room, which was connected to the kitchen through a short hallway that branched to the rest of the penthouse, served as their battlefield.
Had I focused more on the game and less on who played the game, I may have stood a better chance of winning. With the three men competing to be the best, I won even when I lost, so I sipped my hot chocolate and wondered who would get lucky and claim victory.
Between rounds of hot chocolate and failing miserably at figuring out who did what to who where, I worked on making potato soup while Emerick’s chicken roasted, tormenting me with the smells coming out of the oven.
So focused on food, I missed the final moments of the game. Emerick’s victorious crowing made it clear he still remained the prime ruler of the penthouse, though.
“I see we’re going to need to start having game nights up here.” I grabbed a spoon to test the broth of my soup, as the last thing I wanted was a bland mush masquerading as soup. Had I done the shopping, I would have gone on an epic hunt for Irish crumble potatoes, a rare treat my father indulged in. Something about them appealed to both me and my father, resulting in a fierce meal-time battle over who got more of the potatoes.
My mother hadn’t appreciated the times Irish crumble potatoes had come into the house.
“Perhaps a weekly gaming night may be a wise choice, especially with the current situation.” Emerick joined me at the counter, checking on the timer and crouching to peek into the oven through the glass window. “I thought about making a dish from my middle age, such as it were, but then I remembered how much it would cost.”
“What dish?” I asked.
Ford and Gerry joined us in the kitchen, and both men grabbed stools to sit at the island.
Gerry rested his elbows on the counter and winked at me. “It’s chicken. He loves chicken, especially when he can transform a fifteen dollar meal into a demonstration of excess.”
According to Emerick’s scowl, Gerry had landed a cruel blow on him. “It’s not just chicken. It’s chicken poached in clarified butter with spices. It takes quite a lot of clarified butter to make such a thing, but the milk solids shouldn’t be in the pot when trying to cook that way, so it must be clarified. It’s quite delicious.”
“It really is,” Gerry agreed. “I was young when that was a trend of the wealthy, and I got to try it once. It was one of the best meals I’d had in that era. Complete decadence. But I came from a poorer family, and this was before I had been made into a vampire.”
Had I judged on appearance alone, I would have assumed Gerry to be no older than twenty-five. I snagged my phone, unlocked it, and did a search for chicken and clarified butter, discovering the dish had likely come from the Middle Ages, although there was some controversy on when the dish had been first created.
“I stole Gerry from his maker, as his maker had not earned the right to have a brood yet,” Emerick informed me. “I am a far better master anyway.”
“That is not a high bar to reach, Emerick,” Gerry replied. “My maker was a fool. I had been turned due to illness, and my maker’s daughter fancied me.”
“Fancied?” a woman’s voice asked from the general direction of the reception. “Care to rephrase that?”
Gerry grinned, leaned towards me, and said, “She fancied me so much she turned the bride’s brood she’d joined upside down during her war to claim me as her rightful property. While I would have preferred if she’d conquered a little faster, she was worth the wait.”
A pale woman with dark hair stormed into the kitchen, her gray eyes focusing on Gerry. “What sort of horrible lies are you telling this time?”
Emerick laughed, went over to the woman, and kissed her cheek. “Finally got tired of Gerry wandering off and doing unscrupulous things with strange people, Annora?”
“Well, I tried his work first, but I was told he’d been stolen. As there’s only one unscrupulous master willing to steal from our brood, I figured I’d get results if I came here. Then to discover you playing games while filling our mistress’s ears with lies?”
Gerry laughed. “Okay, okay. She did campaign for my hand with her brood, as her father had made her in his last act of madness, so she hadn’t been brought up ready for the life of a bride in a bride’s brood. I couldn’t afford her, but the mistress of her new brood took pity on me upon learning we shared similar fates. I worked off her bride price as a protector of the brood for a hundred years.”
Everything I learned about vampires all pointed to the same place: they were nothing like the terrifying creatures my father had painted them out to be.
I allowed myself a smile at having broken free of more of my misconceptions. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Annora.”
The woman smiled, came to me, and kissed my cheeks as Emerick had kissed hers. “The pleasure is mine. The brood’s various gossips sung me a tale of how our master was beginning to introduce you, and as Gerry had been whisked away, I decided to invite myself over to see what the fuss is all about. Are you feeling better?”
“Much, thank you. Emerick has been hovering, but there are worse things he could be doing.” I adjusted the temperature on my soup to allow the potatoes to cook down more before I went in search of an immersion blender or a masher. If Emerick didn’t own an immersion blender, he would soon enough. “I feel we’re outnumbered, Annora.”
“Oh, we are. Dreadfully. For every one of us, there are at least ten sad, pouty men wishing for better luck and charm. You will tire of the sad, longing sighs and the pouting before too long. Had I been warned vampires become relentless romantics, I may have been a little less inclined to be made! And make no mistake, my father was mad and had made me as part of his madness, but I had reason to want a prolonged life.”
Annora glared at Gerry, who grinned at his wife.
“You’ll get used to their antics. Gerry runs so she’ll catch him,” Emerick informed me. “Ford is on the list for consideration for a bride, as he’s finally gotten around to establishing himself as a stable gentleman of good standing.”
“It only took seventeen trips to Tremont to make it happen,” Ford announced.
“Only,” Emerick muttered.
Annora clapped her hands together. “So, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, what are we doing, and how can I become involved?”
“We’re going to be reviewing the situation with the vampires being set loose starved and beaten,” Emerick replied, joining Gerry and Ford at the island, snagging a stool for himself. “Ford has been gathering information for us, so he’s about to bring me up to speed. If you want to help coordinate, grab one of the spare tablets.”
Annora hurried out of the kitchen in the direction of the offices, returning with several tablets and styluses in her hand, which she set on the island. “I’m ready,” she stated.
“Until I find out more about what we’re contending with, I’m keeping the initial investigation to a small group, but you’re welcome to join us. Pepper needs to learn the ropes, and I don’t think any of us are experts on what we’re facing.”
“We’re really not. Those poor men. I saw Luca last night, and he’s in rough shape. From my understanding of the situation, he’s in better health than the rest?” Annora perched on a stool, jotting down notes on her tablet.
“He’s progressing well,” Emerick replied. “But yes, you heard correctly. Luca is in the best health of the vampires we’ve brought in. What’s the current situation, Ford?”
Ford sighed. “Many of the vampires were long-term prisoners before being dumped. From what we have been able to learn from them, they were being bled often to raise new vampires. As far as we can tell, the oldest of them is six, was made under violent circumstances with no choice in the matter, and then held prisoner until release. Their captors understood enough about vampires to make sure Luca and the older vampires drank sufficiently to replenish their blood.”
“That changes things somewhat, but not drastically. The vampire who started the makings would have needed to be at least a year or two old before having the appropriate amount of magic required to start a turning.” Emerick drummed his fingers on the counter. “Do we have a head count of victims?”
“At current count, there are sixty-two known survivors, possibly sixty-three if we include Pepper in the count. We also have confirmation that there were women brought in; turns were attempted, but they failed. They do not know if Pepper was one of the women or not. They didn’t actually see the women, they but overheard the guards discussing them and their fate. But considering the sort of violence these vampires have endured, it’s probably part of the same operation.”
“That matches with the murdered women being found in shallow graves,” Emerick conceded. “Your thoughts, Gerry?”
“Assuming the vampire who is starting this venture is trying to build a brood and is making vampires as quickly as possible, at a year old and with access to other vampires to provide blood, it’s possible to turn two or three vampires a month. How many can you turn, Emerick?”
“With ready access to brood blood to handle the supply of vampiric blood, I see no reason why I couldn’t turn seven to ten a month without significant consequence. The bond would be weaker than I prefer. A wise master of my age would turn no more than five a month to establish a sufficient bond. But we should assume that they are not creating strong bonds with their vampires. Pepper was not difficult to take from her maker. Resentment is an excellent tool for a fledgling.”
No kidding. I’d survived on resentment and a need for revenge. “But why would a vampire do that if that’s the case?”
Emerick chuckled. “Simply put. He isn’t aware that’s the case. It supports the theory that a younger vampire is behind the kidnappings. Vampires raised in a proper brood are aware of how the bond between maker and vampire works—or the bond between master and vampire. While I am not responsible for turning Gerry into one of us, he has been with me a long time, so the bond between us is strong. It would take a very skilled and old vampire to take him from me. Annora is the same. I jealously guard my younger vampires until there is a sufficient bond to withstand exterior meddling. My bond with you is strengthening faster than normal, but I am quite motivated.”
I understood why, and the ongoing battle between us would eventually lead to a satisfactory conclusion. Eventually. Getting there would test my patience and sanity, but I would not give up without a fight.
“Could it be an accidental turning?” I asked. “Like what was being done to my mother?”
Emerick scowled, and after a long moment, he grumbled something under his breath and shrugged. “It’s entirely possible. Predisposition for vampirism is a legitimate thing, so it is possible the deceased child of a vampire turned on their own. If the child was not taught properly due to not being a deliberate turning, it is feasible this could be the case. What was done to your mother, and possibly to you, is deplorable. No brood vampire with any grasp of his or her sanity would attempt such a thing.”
“What are you talking about?” Annora asked.
“It is probable a vampire, likely Mr. Francis, if our guess is correct, took up the habit of feeding his wife and child blood on a daily basis. Vampiric blood. Her mother is prone to attacking my maker, and he has his hands full containing her. It’s probable she’ll spontaneously turn. Her thirst grows, for all she’s human still. But not for long.”
“He’s going to have to turn her?” I guessed, grimacing at the thought of my mother having every choice taken from her.
“It’s probable. She’s showing symptoms of bloodlust, and it’s only calmed with blood. And like you, she’s struggling with non-vampiric bloods, although not to the point of rejecting it like you were. The problem is simple: we have no confirmation your father is the vampire.”
Ford cleared his throat.
“I detect I am missing important information,” Emerick said in his driest tone. “Is what you’re about to tell me going to ruin my evening?”
“Inevitably,” Ford replied. “Considering the current situation, we’ve been doing some fairly extensive research into Mr. Francis, and we have determined he has a falsified birth certificate. It took doing some research into the hospital where the certificate was initially issued. It was a masterful forgery, to the point the government fully believes it is genuine, but it’s not. There’s no evidence he was actually born in that hospital when the birth certificate claims. As this is a common trick among older vampires, there are options on how this came to be. The first is he’s much older than we believe, and he’s been hiding out among mortals and disguising his nature. The second is that his maker or current master handled the paperwork. A younger vampire would have no need to falsify a birth certificate.”
“But what about my grandparents?”
“On your mother’s side, they’re quite real. On your father’s side, it’s doubtful. Illusions or some other form of preternatural magic—or your father was owed a debt and had them join the farce. There are numerous possibilities. But it’s doubtful they’re actually his parents. Vampires simply don’t age.”
“But he doesn’t look young, not like Emerick.”
Ford nodded. “My current favorite theory is a strong illusion of some sort. That would allow him to do a lot, including mask the fact he was feeding his blood to his wife and daughter.”
“But he hated me being his heir.”
“Did he?” Ford challenged. “Did he actually hate having you as his heir? Or was his protest not that you were female, but that females are much harder to turn? Vampires build immortal empires, Pepper. Emerick may appear to be the ideal vampire in your eyes, but he is as ruthless as any other.”
Emerick nodded. “I really am. It just happens my immortal empire is dedicated to safeguarding and enriching my brood.”
I considered Ford, narrowing my eyes. “Then why is he not protesting my marriage to Emerick?”
With a wicked smile, Emerick got up and checked on his roasting chicken. “Your father’s immortal empire would, should he perish, become your immortal empire. As I am ancient by the standards of most, he understands you, being positioned with me, would secure his legacy. That is a drug with few equals to an ambitious vampire. It fits the scenario well. It also explains why he would not be overly concerned with his wife’s disappearance. If she turns, he can attempt to make a claim on her—or not, as he sees fit. Your mother has provided him with the one thing he needed: an heir. That you successfully turned means he doesn’t need a son. He got something better, this generation’s first successfully turned daughter. The mortal brides of vampires are not sacred. It is the immortal bride of a vampire that matters and has value. If he is an older vampire, he would assume her to be a lost cause, unless he turned her and made his immortal claim before the brides could take her. I am uncertain. That he fed her his blood would indicate a hope of an immortal pairing, but he continues to surprise me at each turn, something I find distasteful at best.”
The subterfuge of it all astounded me. “Feeding us vampire blood was to make it so he could potentially dump us and have us rise on our own, allowing him to bypass the brides brood altogether?”
“Yes, that is a possibility.” Emerick shrugged. “Things like that have been tried before, but it typically fails. The brides find out, and they claim the women into their broods. But if your father is an unknown vampire, they would not be able to place their claim—and he would hide your existence as a vampire from them. Secrets within secrets. But if that is the case, I fear I have sorely underestimated your father.”
I grunted, and as I refused to lose my temper and throw something at the wall, I paced, making frequent stops at the stove to poke at my soup.
“It seems your bride is quite displeased with this news,” Annora observed.
“Her father is a scoundrel with no care for the emotional health of his daughter, as until recently, he believed her to be of no true value,” Emerick stated. “Any woman scorned in such a way would become agitated. As I’m not foolish enough to get in my wife’s way, I’m going to arm her with knowledge, enough stakes to terrify any sane vampire, and get out of her way. I’ll enjoy watching her back.”
I raised a brow. “But what will I be wearing when you’re watching my back?”
After adjusting the temperature and timer on the oven, he returned to his stool. “I will hope for something sexy. I recommend against permitting me to dress you for your adventures into vengeance. I will dress you to my taste, so you will be quite sexy when viewed from any angle.”
“You are the reason you’re going to end up losing our competition,” I informed him. “But if it helps you lose faster, I don’t mind wearing more leather and displaying some competence.”
Gerry and Ford burst into laughter, and Annora joined in with a soft snicker.
“I see I have surrounded myself with upstarts, all planning for my downfall.” Joining in the general laughter, he checked on his chicken yet again.
“Hovering isn’t going to make it cook faster,” I pointed out.
“But hovering will permit me to remove it the exact moment it reaches perfection, allowing me to feed you the perfect chicken.”
“I am going to have to have a talk with your maker about having domesticated you perhaps a little too well,” I informed him. “However good perfect chicken might be, I’d rather you not give yourself an ulcer stressing over dinner while also stressing over this vampire brood turning people against their will. The last thing a vampire needs is a damned ulcer.”
“Ulcers aren’t typically a problem with vampires, although they do crop up from time to time.” Emerick scowled, and he tapped his fingers on the counter. “It seems our problems have grown significantly in the past few days. Why is this vampire or group of vampires releasing the newly turned now and in such numbers? What could they possibly hope to accomplish? Most were too weak to hunt even a mouse. The only bystander killed died from sheer stupidity. Only a fool approaches a starved vampire like that.” He huffed, wrinkled his nose, and as that wasn’t sufficient to display his disgust, he added a snort for good measure.
“And now that we know Emerick is severely annoyed by what’s going on, is there any reason to believe my father is part of the group doing this?”
Ford shook his head. “No. I believe your father is a rogue brood master, and he was planning on establishing his brood using you and your mother. That makes sense, as having an eligible female heir and a bride would put him higher in the rankings even without other vampires in the brood. Your kidnapping would have stopped his plans, although your successful turning will probably result in him making another attempt with a future daughter should he have one. Which leads back to the problem of your mother.”
My mother likely breathed fire, especially if Clarke had told her everything we knew about my turning, her current situation, and my father’s behavior. “Riddle me this, then. If my father is a vampire, why raise me to be so wary around preternaturals? I think it’s obvious I was not happy about clawing my way out of my own grave.”
For a long time, the four other vampires exchanged silent looks, and to my surprise, Annora sighed and replied, “There are few better ways for a vampire to hide his presence than to ally himself with those who hate vampires. It also makes it easier to understand his motives for his work in Harlem. He doesn’t just intend on taking advantage of the preternatural—he intends to create his own brood through his residencies. It would quite possibly transform him into the strongest brood master in New York, and possibly the entirety of the eastern United States.”
I frowned. “Then wouldn’t he be more upset that I’m not in his brood? And that my mother’s gone?”
Annora shrugged. “Old vampires play long games, and if your father is older than we expected, he’s been playing his long game very well. I certainly don’t know who he could be.”
“I know of a few old vampires he might be,” Emerick admitted. “Some are less savory than others. The problem is, I have not met any of them, so I have no way of knowing what they look like. Does your father refuse blood tests?”
“As is his right as a human with a pristine record,” I groused. “I’ve never seen him get sick, either. Not more than a little under the weather. He just doesn’t get bad colds or anything like that. He does get them, but they are never bad, and he recovers in a few days at most.”
The vampires exchanged glances.
“I’m guessing that’s a vampiric trait.” From my first breath, had I lived a lie? “Do vampires have children with human women often?”
“Often enough, but it’s a very careful and deliberate decision,” Emerick admitted. “The mothers need to be monitored to make certain there aren’t any complications, and she may require transfusions throughout her pregnancy in some cases. We often have a good idea if the infant is predisposed for vampirism if the mother becomes anemic during the pregnancy. It’s usually not a big problem, but the pregnancies are not without risks. Vampires tend to be very protective of their wives, even more so when the wife is mortal. He would rather have no children and have her longer, and childbearing is dangerous for mortal women. Ironically, while difficult to bring a child to term as a vampire, the mother is almost guaranteed to survive through the delivery. Her brood helps with providing blood, but the typical complications human women face are avoided with vampiric women.”
“But it’s much harder to have the child.” I went to check on my soup, and upon investigating the potatoes, determined it was done cooking and ready to be blended. To my relief, Emerick owned several immersion blenders, and I picked one, giving the blades a rinse before confirming I wouldn’t end up splattering myself with molten potatoes when I turned the device on. “Is it really possible that my father is an old vampire? What counts as old?”
“We tend to view two hundred or older as old. Anything over five hundred is beginning to skirt on ancient territory. I’m considered to be ancient,” Emerick stated, and he gestured at Annora and Gerry. “They’re skirting the ancient category. Ford is skirting on becoming old, but he struggled to adapt to modern times compared to Gerry.”
Ford shrugged. “Modern times suck. When I was turned, we could just go visit the cows in the fields and have a sip from one here and there. We could mask our bites to look like the local bugs did it, and the cows didn’t mind us as long as we brought them treats and gave them affection. We are no longer permitted to bite the livestock without just cause.”
The nature of his complaint startled me, and I turned to stare at him, the immersion blender in my hand, ready to render my potatoes and broth into soup with a few additions. “You liked biting cows?”
“Cows are such wonderful creatures. They’re fierce when threatened or angered, but they are gentle when you forge a bond of trust with them. They can be ridden. And when they end their lives, be it natural or time for the slaughterhouse, they are delicious. Cows are the perfect animal. I would own entire herds of cattle, but Emerick keeps telling me no.”
“We do not bite our pet cows anymore,” Emerick stated in an even, neutral tone. “The experience of drinking from a willing creature directly is addicting, and Ford struggled the most with those changes when the laws changed. If I let you loose with herds of cattle, you’d be visiting them every night, and I would have to deal with the problem yet again. When you can have cows to pet and love without biting, then you can have cows. But until then, you’re still banned from having livestock. It’s too easy for your interest in livestock to become an interest in people.”
Ford sighed. “I know, I know.”
Ford had an issue with biting cows? “Is this a common problem?”
“It’s common enough with some older vampires. Ford was turned when cattle were commonplace and vampires were moving away from drinking human blood altogether. When I turned him, it was in the age of live hunting, and he didn’t adjust as well to bottled bloods as most vampires. Once a vampire reaches a certain age, it becomes easier to adapt, but some habits are difficult to break. Ford’s habit is hunting cows. But he forges emotional connections with cows. Beef cattle, who are raised to be slaughtered at a fairly young age.”
I raised a brow. “Do I need to beat some common sense into you? If you’re going to keep a stock of cattle specifically for snacking on, they’re pets who serve no other purpose than to be your pet and die of old age. You can eat them after they die from old age. Just drink out of the bottle like everyone else. If I can drink out of a damned bottle, so can you.” I wrinkled my nose. “I would hope the cows taste better than miscreants.”
“The cows do not mind my consumption of their blood,” Ford replied in a dignified tone.
“See? I mean, I get it. Emerick is delicious, but I can keep my pointy little teeth out of him and drink from the bottle.” I heaved a sigh and stared at my husband. “Why are you so damned delicious, anyway?”
“Being a willing participant in your dessert helps significantly with my taste.”
“Why is it okay that I can drink from you but it’s not okay for him to drink from pet cows?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.
“I can consent. The cows can’t.”
Oh. “I guess cows don’t speak English and can’t really consent to having their blood taken while they’re still alive, can they?”
Emerick nodded, and he joined me at the stove, peeking into my pot. “That’s right. That’s why we use magic to preserve blood and we gather all the blood we can during slaughter, making sure they have the best deaths possible. That way the blood isn’t tainted from fear or pain. We still allow starved or endangered vampires to drink from livestock, but they’re supposed to notify their master so we can compensate the farmer for any injured livestock. If the livestock dies, we pay for the animal’s value if the meat can’t be used.”
“Obviously, I have a lot to learn about what it means to be a vampire. So, if my father found out I’ve been the one killing miscreants, how would he react if he is an ancient vampire versus just an old one?”
“An old vampire, around Ford’s age, maybe a little younger or older by a hundred years, would be repulsed by the idea. They were raised where women took very certain roles. Slaughtering other vampires is not one of those roles, but some of them were quite handy at slaughtering fowl, goats, and even cows as needed.” Emerick grinned at Ford. “Ancient vampires like myself find you to be positively alluring. If your father is on the ancient scale of things, he will view you as a good tool in his arsenal, especially considering our current situation. If your mother turns, he will be the reason why two women survived. That will earn him a great deal of prestige until everyone learns you were both turned without your consent. Your mother will likely turn without my maker finishing the process, but my maker taking over will make the transition less traumatic for her.”
“If you’re trying to convince me I should stab my father in the face with one of my stakes, you’re doing a good job.”
“If he is the one responsible for what was done to you and your mother, I would enjoy watching you teach him a final lesson on why a good master either takes responsibility for his offspring or receives consent.”
“Like you took responsibility with Ben.”
“Precisely. But understand this, Pepper. In your shoes, I would ask myself if your father would go through so much effort on someone he did not want to love for all eternity. He did not begin his gambit with your mother, but with you. If he had viewed you as expendable, you would not have lived for long beyond childhood. If he had viewed you as expendable, he would not have risked the entirety of his empire so that you might one day inherit it should he reach the end of his eternity first. He was not cultivating something temporary with you. Someone like you is not born by accident or fate but is created with a careful hand. Perhaps not kind, but careful. That is something for you to think about. How does the story change when you view it from a different perspective?”
I frowned, considering his words. I eased the immersion blender into the pot, turned it on to low, and observed the potatoes break down and become one with the broth. Once smooth, I added some cream cheese, a hearty dollop of sour cream, and some cheese and spices to give it the depth of flavor I appreciated. Then, as I got close to finishing my soup, I understood what Emerick hinted at without saying outright.
“He would have had an eternity to earn my forgiveness.”
“Yes, and things change when you look through your life through the lens of having a thousand years or more to do all your heart’s desires. For him, it is probably nothing to sacrifice your childhood so that he might have you, his daughter, for the next thousand years. And that he might do the same for your mother leads me to believe he, however twisted he is, began this as a venture of some dark affection. I would never do such a thing to any child of mine, no matter how deep the pain and fear of loss might be. But I am the stronger man. If his desperation was as such, well, it’s a different story than the one we initially believed, but it is one worth considering.”
“Then why all those court cases?” I asked, turning off the immersion blender and tapping it against the rim of the pot until most of the soup no longer clung to it. I swiped my finger along the side and gave a taste. Satisfied with my creation, I dismantled the blender, rinsed the blades off so it would be easier to clean later, and went on the hunt for bowls and spoons.
Maybe some soup would help me get through the rest of the conversation.
“It certainly did a good job of making him appear to be a petty, greedy mortal wishing to capitalize on your disappearance. Enough to fool me—if that is his game. Honestly, if his ploy was to make certain he maintained mortal appearances, he is a master at his craft. We would need to get a blood sample.”
“Would this make my mother blood bound to him?”
Worse, I wondered if I had, for a time, been bound to my father.
“No. It takes more than just drinking the same vampire’s blood to become blood bound. Or, let me correct myself—in the way you are thinking. Let’s take your mother as an example. While your father may have been slipping her blood, it is probable she held certain resentments about her marriage to him. This would interfere with their ability to bond. You started out quite possessive of your dessert, which made you more likely to become bonded with me. There needs to be mutual interest for a bond to properly form. That plus a direct application of teeth. I am guessing your father has not been nipping your mother—and that your mother had not started biting until she came into my maker’s care.”
I let out a relieved sigh, located a ladle, and serving everyone some soup before taking a seat at the island. “Have you gotten any news about her?”
“She is relieved you’re alive and well, upset that your father robbed her of dressing you in a pretty gown, and is otherwise hunting my maker with disturbing enthusiasm. I took the liberty of promising that she could witness you dressed in a pretty gown, as vampires love ceremonies more than we probably should. If you think human marriage ceremonies are lavish, Mrs. Lowrance, the parties vampires host redefine what it means to be extravagant. We cannot escape the ceremony.”
“Wait, I get the vampire and the fancy wedding?”
“You get both,” Emerick confirmed. “And vampires tend to hold vow renewals every hundred years, though the scale varies on the length of the marriage. Five hundred years has quite the ceremony, as it is relatively uncommon for pairings to survive for so long. Life is rarely kind, and while we can live a long time, most of us simply don’t. Annora and Gerry have been together for over four hundred years now. Next year, I will begin planning their ceremony along with the rest of the brood. We will begin our counting with our official ceremony, and our documented marriage will serve as our engagement period in the eyes of most vampires. No sane vampire will judge me for claiming you before someone else might steal you away. My age helps with that.”
“They’re just grateful your ancient, grouchy ass might be less grouchy because you have a partner?” I guessed.
“Indeed.”
I turned my attention to Ford. “Is there anything else you’re going to tell me that I’m not going to like?”
“I’m sure there is,” he replied.
“Hit me with the worst of the lot.”
“There is the possibility that these vampires were trying to start a mass hunt to eliminate the competition—by releasing vampires in a state of bloodlust, they might trigger our genocide, allowing them to have us all killed off, jailed, or worse. It’s a possibility we can’t afford to ignore. How better to start a vampire hunt than releasing a bunch of crazed, starved vampires capable of drinking half the city dry before recovering their sanity?”
The possibility chilled me. “Is that something a vampire might do?”
Emerick checked his chicken, adjusted the timer, and sat next to me, poking at his bowl of soup rather than eating it. “It’s been done before. I’m sure it will be done again. It wasn’t done through lusting vampires, but in other ways. They just launched attacks on villages and towns near where the rival brood lived. Neither method has honor, but I can’t deny the possibility.”
“Is that something my father might do?”
“No,” Gerry, Ford, and Emerick chorused.
I stilled, raising a brow at the immediacy of their response. “Why not?”
“Your father is a man wishing to build his empire, not destroy it—and he has chosen New York as the home of his empire. It’s that simple. The last thing he wants is for someone else to tear it down around his ears,” Emerick explained. “While I have no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate the competition, his efforts fall apart if there are no vampires for him to manipulate and absorb into his brood. And the more I think on how he might benefit from his currently established leasing rules, the more I realize he’s truly playing a long game, one where he ensnares other vampires and takes over broods in ruthless financial victories. But what I don’t know is if he’ll ultimately be a benefit to us or a threat. On the surface, he appears to be a threat. But then I remember one important thing.”
“What thing?” I asked.
“Someone with as much compassion, intellect, and drive does not happen by accident. Your father knew precisely what he was doing when he cultivated you—and he used himself as the example for you not to follow. But to what purpose? Why? I promise you this much, Pepper. I intend to find out.”