Dean sighed. “We have no choice.” He closed the distance between them, his voice softer. “Every attack gets us closer to the end of the quiet existence we’ve created. If this is not taken care of right away, our secret’s out. And you know what that means.”
“Do I have to be there?”
Dean reached for him, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Yes. You’re the only one I trust.” Blue eyes bore into his, beseeching his soul to understand. “I can’t do this without you. Any of it.”
Mark closed his eyes. His brother was capable of making him do whatever he wanted. Such was the power the Prime Alpha had over other wolves. But he was going out of his way to ask for Mark’s help. He sighed and opened his eyes to meet Dean’s unwavering stare. “OK.”
His brother smiled, a restrained smile without its usual wow factor. “OK?”
Mark’s own smile belied the overwhelming sadness bubbling from the depths of his soul. “What would you do without me?”
This time, when Dean smiled, his eyes lit up, and Mark’s burden lessened. At least he’d have Dean this time. He’d hoped never to see or speak to another vampire in his lifetime, but perhaps that had been too much to ask. Immortality made alifetime a very long time, but still, he’d hoped. Now, thanks to the treaty his brother had negotiated, his greatest fear would soon be realized.
If there was ever a time to reconnect with his wolf, it would be now. But Mark had never been that lucky.
Caster St. John didn’t like this feeling. The frustration clawed through his belly, signaling he’d lost control of it all. Control is what he did best. He always had it reined in, ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice. But now, because of that monster of a witch, he’d lost it. A headache synced with the rhythm of the noise in the room as everyone spoke at once, and the tight rein on his emotions snapped. He hadn’t had a chance to feed since the witch’s attack, and that was five days ago.
He stood, pushing his chair back with more force than he’d intended. The offending piece of furniture sailed through the room, breaking apart as it met the wall behind him. He didn’tneed to see it to know he’d need a new chair, but his over-the-top display of anger bore fruit. The entirety of his council, more Born-Vampires in the same room than should be acceptable, were all dead silent, staring at him, awaiting his orders.
He tried to keep his voice calm. “I want the witch found. Now!”
Damien, his cousin and Head of Security for the Vampire Council, was the only one who would be unfazed by his commanding tone. “We are already on it. Riley is working a locator spell, but as he says, she’s not that stupid.”
The witch had somehow amassed enough power to deter the locator spells of the most powerful witch in existence. Caster thanked the Goddess every day that Riley was on their side. This would be much harder without him. Yet, even with him, somehow the witch eluded their extensive efforts to end her killing spree. A killing spree that had lasted two centuries.
“And the casualties?”
“Three Born-Vampires and twenty Made-Vampires,” Zahara, his mother’s best friend and the Head of Health Services for the Council, said, her gaze on the papers in front of her.
“We’ve notified their families?” Caster asked her.
“Yes, we have,” his uncle, Mason, and the Head of Populations answered. “I also notified the Wolves as your father requested, but I don’t know why we would need…”
Caster opened his mouth to reiterate the treaty he’d signed with the Prime Alpha centuries ago to end the war between them, but Damien beat him to it. “You know the treaty dictatesthat we have to notify them of the threat, and they are obliged to help.”
Caster placed his hands on the sturdy table and leaned forward, meeting his uncle’s unflinching stare. “If that witch gets her way, we will be at war with humans. We have to prevent that at all costs.”
Tired of the back-and-forth and his need for blood close to unbearable, Caster sighed and pushed away from the table. “I want this done.” He walked out, his cousin Damien close behind.
Vampires didn’t need micro-managing. Everyone was clear on what needed to be done and went about their task, a fact that made his rule much easier. Not that it was his rule. His father, the King, wanted him to take charge of the Council to gain more experience. Caster wouldn’t be King for a while yet. At least he hoped not.
His cousin followed him through the expansive mansion as Caster made his way to his room.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring the wolves here?”
Caster sat on the couch in the sitting area adjacent to his bedroom. “Not you too…”
Damien raised his hands. “I’m just asking. Given how most vampires feel about the wolves, it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“We don’t have a choice, Damien. You heard Riley yesterday. The witch will not stop killing anytime soon. We have to bring the fight to her. It was negligible when it was a few humans, but the way she’s killing us is bound to draw unwanted attention.”
Damien sat across from him and sighed.
“We’ll have to manage everyone’s expectations. But if there was ever a time I needed Dean, it is right now.”
Damien leveled him with a stare he’d long learned to interpret as support and nodded. “I know.” Then he leaned forward. “But this is not your responsibility.”
A loaded moment passed between them, and unwanted laughter bubbled from the depths of his soul. Damien’s puzzled expression at his reaction turned into a familiar smile.