Clive pinched the bridge of his nose. Part of him was triumphant that their leader was paying them such an honor. This sort of thing would cement his future within the Vampire Nation. The First was holding him out not just as a Scion, not just as Rowan’s mate, but as his son by marriage. A step toward being made his replacement.
The larger part worried about Rowan. Her father’s attentions on her in this manner, when his mental health was so precarious, meant she would be under a great deal of pressure to keep things on an even keel. She’d subvert all her rough edges to keep everyone safe. She loved her foster father despite their bloody history. But that love came at a cost to her.
“All the Scions will attend with retinues of ten each. No details are being given to anyone other than a time to be collected for travel.”
Clive smirked. Rowan was going to be entertained by mocking all this pompous, excessive show of power by her father and his people. Most likely for years to come.
“Have you handled that bit of business with my office in Las Vegas?” Clive assumed she had, but it was always wise to double check.
“Naturally. They’re being chosen as we speak and will arrive here day after tomorrow. You’ll be moved to her suites in The First’s wing of the Keep.”
“Ah.” He didn’t bother to hide his smile. It not only brought him closer to The First, but Rowan would be happier the less she had to change her already tumultuous life.
Her father accepted Clive’s future at Rowan’s side. This made them both safer. Hopefully. One never fully knew with The First.
Clive would simply make it a point to shoulder anything he could to help bear that weight along with her.
He’d continue to do his best to protect her where he could. “Please arrange with David to have food sent to the Motherhouse at regular intervals tomorrow. She won’t eat enough otherwise.”
“Good idea.” Alice made a note. “You’re supposed to meet your father for drinks in an hour.”
“Blast. I’d forgotten. I don’t want to leave the house with Rowan resting and recovering.”
“I’ll call him. Arrange for him to come over here. I’ll make sure everything is set up for you and Betchamp can handle the rest while I stay up here to work. I’ll hear if she calls out.”
He didn’t know how his life would get from moment to moment without Alice and her help keeping him on track.
“Thank you.”
She bustled off to handle those details while he dressed for drinks with his father. The cravats she’d had made for him had already been neatly stacked into a drawer in his closet.
It still startled him that she’d given them to him. That she’d known him so well wasn’t that hard to believe, but that sweet, vulnerability of such an intimate present rocked him back on his heels.
Earlier—not just seeing, but feeling the depth of her guilt and failure—had burrowed into his memory. His answering rage that she’d ever feel responsible for the things she had no part in, still clung to his heart like spider silk.
He wanted to hold her close, knew she’d only allow that in her weakest moments and hoped he’d be enough. Hoped he’d do this right, or at the very least right enough to keep from breaking the heart she’d given him.
They’d continue to forge their own path, he supposed. Hoped.
* * *
Alice returned some time later to say his father had arrived so they traded places after she promised to notify him if anything changed. Though, he realized, he’d know. Now that she’d given him the gift of her blood she seemed to roar through him like the surf.
Rowan was out, her body doing the work it needed to heal. He’d feel it before she managed to open her eyes. Which was far more reassuring than he’d allowed himself to think about before that day.
His father stood near the fireplace, staring out the window to the garden just beyond.
“Today calls for a drink,” Clive said as he entered the room.
“I agree and I’ve only heard bits and pieces. Is Rowan all right?” Charles asked.
Clive was proud his hands didn’t shake when he poured out two fingers of brandy for them both.
“She’s resting now. Finally. Broken bones, but she’ll heal. Her bruises are already starting to fade. They made her angry. Their mistake.”
“I imagine she gets into trouble frequently.”
Clive’s laugh was humorless. “It’s her job and one she does better than anyone I’ve ever known. Fortunately, she’s rather resilient.”
“Never figured you for bonding with a warrior, though I approve.”
“One can’t plan for a creature like Rowan. One simply holds on and enjoys the journey.”
Charles nodded, thoughtful. “I may have some experience with that type of woman.”
“I prefer not to ruminate too deeply over the similarities. As Rowan would say, it’s creepy.”
“I hadn’t realized it until your mother pointed them out. Naturally, she believes Rowan is a wonderful addition to our house. I tend to agree because no one will ever sneak up on you from behind when she’s around.”
“She understands our world.”
His father sat, crossing one leg to rest his ankle on top of the other knee. “I’d expect nothing less. She’s bonded to a Scion.”
Clive far more often saw it as him being bonded to a Vessel, but that wasn’t something he had the words to parcel through. Not yet and he wasn’t in any hurry. “Naturally. It’s more than that. More than her connection to The First. She brings this house a great deal of power and influence.”
“Which is why your uncles are so envious.”
Clive sighed as he found a seat in one of the leather chairs near the drink cart. “Malcolm was too distracted when they were younger. They want to be in charge, but they don’t know how to gain that power to start with, much less be an effective leader and work constantly to stay in charge. They’re greedy and lazy.”
He loved his grandfather. The old man was nearly mythological to Vampires and for good reason. Still, he’d be the last one to pretend away his flaws.
“To be fair, male relatives of any family would be envious of your match.” The pleasure in the words came through his father’s voice easily.
Even as old as he was, Clive craved his father’s approval and respect. Found himself smiling a moment at the compliment.
“They’re going to push her so hard she pushes back,” Clive told his father.
“I’m quite looking forward to taking it all in when she does. They’re going to attend the reception at the Keep.”
His parents were products of harder, more honor-bound times. Both well trained and intelligent. Clive wasn’t concerned for them. But his uncles. They had no idea what it was like to be in the presence of The First. They were too soft. Their egos too big, even for Vampires.
This presentation and reception was important to The First because it was about his child. Rowan was the one thing he seemed to treasure above all others. If he got any notion Clive’s uncles were hostile to her in any way—especially given the frailty of his current mental state—they wouldn’t be executed. Not immediately. But they’d beg for death for a long time before they got it.
Clive exhaled sharply. “If they don’t have the sense to tread lightly around The First, they’ll end up dead. Or worse. Now isn’t the time for any nonsense.”
He couldn’t tell his father about how shaky The First was, though he wanted to unburden himself. Even the other Scions only knew as much as he and Warren had decided to share.
“I’ll attempt to pass that on without making it sound like a dare. I don’t care much that they’d be killed but I don’t want to break their mother’s heart. At least not without trying to rein them in.”
“Good luck with that.” He lifted his glass his fathe
r’s way before taking a sip.
“All that aside.” His father sat forward a bit. “How are you?”
Being chosen as Scion had been an incredible coup on his part. The power had been immense and nearly immediate, but so had the problems in far greater frequency.
He’d had to land in Las Vegas, spill a great deal of blood, burn some houses to the ground and then rebuild a territory that had been mistreated by the last Scion. Three years ago he’d have said that was his biggest challenge.
He’d met Rowan several months later.
“I find myself exhausted much of the time and yet quite happy.” He thought of the woman upstairs. “The financial mismanagement of the entire territory had hobbled it. Fools. It took the better part of a year to untangle it all.” To rule a territory as Scion meant thinking like a leader. A president, a king, a dictator, father, brother. He needed to be a great many things to take the Vampire Nation into the next century.
The Scion before Clive had been a spoiled child at a birthday party. He’d treated North America like his personal playground as he’d embezzled and wasted millions upon millions of dollars.
“Profits are up at long last. Our overall crime rate is down.” Which was a positive as his wife was the law. “My appointments are beginning to settle in and those I let remain from the last regime aren’t causing any trouble. There’s more work to be done over the next decades, but I don’t imagine that will ever not be the case.”
“What will you do about the lack of an heir?” Charles asked after a long silence.
“I’ve been bonded less than a month. Perhaps this is rushing that issue?”
Charles chose to ignore Clive’s dry tone. “It’s not rushing to ask if you’ve thought about something that will be important at some point.”
“We can’t have a biological child, but a great many heirs aren’t anyway. You know that. When the time comes, Rowan and I will decide together.” They could foster or adopt a child. He could take on one of his inner circle and appoint them as an heir.
“As you say.” Charles shrugged slightly and let the subject go.
“Father,” Clive murmured some time later, right before Charles planned to take his leave. “The Blood Front has let the enemy in. We’ve got leaks of information, more than one drain from Nation coffers, our security protocols have been exposed in some cases. Be wary.”
“I understand. If we don’t see you until the day after tomorrow when we travel to the Keep, take care of yourself as well. And my new daughter. Your mother has taken quite a shine to Rowan. Which I’m sure spells trouble for you and me.”
“Some trouble is worth it.”
Both men shared a quick smile before parting.
Dawn beckoned. He had maybe an hour and a half before he went to sleep.
Clive stalked the halls of his house, of their home, making sure locks were thrown and security systems engaged. David had his own system in the mews house, but a quick view of that panel showed everything locked and safe over there as well.
He’d doubled the security detail, though no one would ever even see most of them.
Rowan would immediately, which meant he needed to tell her about it before she punched someone and he had to pay workers’ comp.
Betchamp came to the base of the stairs, waiting for Clive to reach him.
Clive paused. “You should go to sleep. Rowan will be out for a while yet, but when she first awakes, it’s going to be David she’ll want.”
“Sir.” Betchamp licked his lips. “I will not let you down. Your safety is paramount. None will harm her within these walls while I draw breath.”
Absolute conviction and dedication.
“I know. I value that a great deal. Everything is as safe as it can be at this moment. My wife is, even when injured, a very canny and vicious creature. You may rest assured things are fine.” For the next hours anyway.
“As you wish.” Betchamp bowed slightly.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rowan made it to her office and got the door closed before she had to roll her eyes so hard she may have sprained something.
Hours upon hours of meetings and phone conferences.
A tap on her door indicated David’s presence, so she moved to the side and admitted him.
“They’re still in shock from yesterday,” he said quietly, knowing she’d escaped because she’d been driven nearly mad by all the dithering and, “I don’t know, what do you think we should do” stuff.
“We don’t have the time for it. Fragile people should work elsewhere. Let them sell shoes, or answer phones or play with their navels for all I care. The entire reason we’re in this predicament is because we let fragile people in our house to start with.”
David’s mouth flattened, as if he planned to argue. Rowan waited. His shoulders slumped and she patted his arm.
“I’m not mean for fun. Okay, that’s lie. Sometimes I am. But in a majority of the situations I find myself in, I’m the one who has to say things out loud because everyone else wants to be nice. Fuck nice. I’m trying to keep people alive. You can hold their hands while I do it, but it has to be done, or we’re all dead.”
“I understand more than you think I do,” David said at last. “Do you think I’m unaware of the weight on your shoulders? Of the cost to you to be the one who has to say the harsh things no one else has the courage to do?”
Well. Sometimes she did. A habit honed from a lifetime of being cast as the villain, she supposed.
“Oh.”
He nudged her to a chair. “Have some tea. More food has arrived so you should eat as well.”
She snarled. Her damned husband had been sending food over every few hours, which meant countless breaks to eat instead of pushing to finish up so this could all be handled.
“Eating doesn’t make you weak, you know.” David smirked as he began to pull things from a tote bag she hadn’t even noticed. “People get hungry. They need to sleep. Sometimes they need to dither a little so they can work through all the big, emotional and mental stuff they have to deal with.”
“When did you get so wise?”
Gyros and falafel. Clive knew her pretty damned well too.
“Sit and eat with me. Tell me what you think so far.” Rowan began to unwrap and eat as David did the same.
“I’m not sure you’re going to like what I have to say,” David told her.
“I’m sure I won’t unless you tell me something awesome like how everything is solved and I can go home.”
“Hunter Corp. needs you. Needs your leadership.”
“I know that much.” No matter how she wanted to ignore it, to go about her life as a free agent and kick evil’s ass or whatnot on her own schedule, it wasn’t to be.
“Yes, you do. But do you accept what needs to be done? They need your strength to steer Hunter Corp. through this mess and out the other side.”
“I’m trying! They’re the ones sidelining forward momentum with all this hand wringing and talking over the same three points.”
He just looked her way as he chowed down on lunch.
“Fine. Yes, I accept it.” It meant she’d lead Hunter Corp. into the next phase, into the future. Maybe into a war.
She hoped not. But had long since given up latching her hopes to silly dreams.
“I can’t take all this retreading old ground. It’s counterproductive. We need to get moving.”
David shrugged.
“You think I should just lay it all out? Like this is what we’re doing and how we’re going to do it? Otherwise get the fuck out? Be the mommy they think they want?”
He didn’t even pause as he continued to eat, but he indicated his agreement.
She’d been leaning toward that very thing, but in the end she’d backed off. B
ecause they’d been upset still about what had happened the day before.
“This is why field Hunters need to be in positions of authority.” They hadn’t fallen apart. They’d dusted themselves off, washed away the blood and had gotten back to work.
David finally stopped eating long enough to wipe his face off and speak. “I agree with you. Though I do advise perhaps not so blunt when you speak to others.”
“I’m not an animal. I do have some sense of what’s appropriate.” She just didn’t choose to be so at all times. Blunt got a lot more done, but, right now, those within Hunter Corp. who hadn’t been so quick to bounce back needed something to believe in and hold on to. They needed to toughen up.
Once they got over the hump separating their old lives from the ones they needed to accept as reality now.
Maybe instead of seeing everyone else’s reactions as weakness, she should realize her reactions were borne of the sort of pain she wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Rowan snorted. Sure, she was fucked up and had a crap childhood. But so did millions upon millions of other people. Well, not at the hands of Theo, but still.
There’d been long periods of relative peace. But that was over. And if they didn’t meet this challenge head on, it’d be over forever.
Time to take the endless feedback loop and flip the script. They needed a jolt so they could move forward.
“Can I play bad cop now? I’ve been so nice all day I have a backache.”
David tried to stay stern, but lost the battle. “A backache?”
“Yes, from making myself not hit people with things. I nearly threw the stapler once.”
“Which is why I moved it out of your reach.”
Rowan laughed. “You know me so well.”
“Just trying to keep people alive.”
“Dude. Me too.” She finished her meal, tossing the debris into the garbage. Standing with a deep breath, she grabbed her drink and headed toward the door. “Let’s go. I have bad cop to play. My favorite.”
* * *