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“See what you can find out from our police contacts.” I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand down my face. We need to get ahead of this. If we don’t, and agrodolce gets released to the public, it will be a disaster.
Asher and Weylen nod their heads silently and take their leave. I know they want to linger, but there will be time for us to come together later when this is taken care of. Right now, they have work to do. We may be a triad and make decisions together for the well-being of the clan, but we each have our own area of expertise.
Asher trains our men, both human and vampire. He instructs them in all forms of security and combat, making them ready for when the time comes to fight.
Weylen, with his experience in strategic battle maneuvers, oversees our underground operations, ensuring that our property reaches its destination. He’s also the one who leads our strike team when the time is needed. They’re the men behind the scenes, the wizards behind the curtain, while I take on the face of our operations.
There are many in the world who are aware of our existence and the existence of other supernaturals, but for the most part, humans go about their daily lives unaware of the monsters that stalk them. The three of us don’t just deal in the underground, although it’s a majority of what we do. King Enterprises owns hundreds, if not thousands, of businesses across the world. I started building my empire long before Asher was even born as a human. Over the years, I have taken on many guises and many names, all of which have led me to become the man I am today.
“You can stop lurking at the door, Irena,” I call impatiently. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.”
I hear a small huff of annoyance before my office door barges open. “It’s absolutely ridiculous how good your sense of smell is.” Without asking permission, the small slip of a girl plants herself in one of the chairs opposite mine.
A small chuckle slips through my lips as she pouts at my sheer audacity at being able to detect her.
“You’re wearing Dior,” I point out cheekily. “Every vampire within five miles can smell you. If you don’t want to be detected, then don’t wear ridiculous perfume.”
“It would be rude of me not to wear it, since it was a birthday gift from my darling brother,” she replies with a smile.
“Well,” I smirk. “Your brother must have good taste.”
She shrugs, nonchalantly examining her manicured nails that are sharpened to a point. “Well, he thinks he does, but from the look of this office, I’m beginning to wonder.”
The little devil.
“I know you didn’t come in here to berate my decorating tastes.” I divert the topic. “What did you need, little sister?”
“Rumor has it that you are stowing away a little sahira.” She smiles knowingly. “One with a very prestigious background, if I’m not mistaken.”
I should have known that it wouldn’t take long for the gossip to reach my sister’s ears. She lives to stir up trouble. “And if I am?”
A small squeal erupts from her immortal mouth, and she claps her hands in delight. “Oh, I knew it. I told you it would all come together soon. But you wanted to be Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Irena makes an exaggerated frown face. Dear god, someone help me with this child. One would think that after hundreds of years, she would have grown up. Wishful thinking.
“Don’t get attached, Irena,” I warn her. “She’s nothing but a tool for us. A way to defeat Jedidiah and the rest of the Ancients before they ruin the world we’ve built with the humans. And we don’t even know if she’s the one. She hasn’t shown any signs, and she’s twenty-four already. There might not be anything special about her. She certainly doesn’t look like she’s meant to be the chosen one.”
“The special ones never do. I remember when River and I first came together…” A somber expression paints her face at the memory of her fallen lover.
Irena stiffens, her shallow chest rising and falling so slowly it’s almost imperceptible. Vampires don’t require oxygen to survive, but the act of breathing helps us hide in plain sight among our human counterparts. In a society dominated by technology, blending in has become integral for survival. I can sense my sister’s unease and see it radiating from her pale face. Something has set her on edge.
Her gaze strays to a small photo on my bookcase. It was taken in the late 1820s by a man named Joseph Niépce while we were in Burgundy, France. It’s the only surviving image of the three of us. The photograph depicts the calm before the storm. We’re standing happily next to our sire, our faces grim but our eyes shining with unseen adventures. Between us, Jedidiah wears a cheerful grin upon his face despite being chastised not to smile by the photographer. He didn’t care.
It was taken shortly before his descent into madness.
“Do you miss the way things used to be?” she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper as she shifts her gaze from the photo to my face. I can feel the air in the room grow heavy with the weight of her delicate question, and for a moment, I’m silent. “Even after all he put us through over the years, I still find myself wishing that one day things could go back to how they were.”
I lean forward in my chair, my elbows pressing against the smooth surface of my oak desk. My normally harsh gaze softens as I take my sister in. She’s soft for a vampire. Even in her darkest moments, when she lost control of the monster inside her, rampaging through Brazil on a quest for revenge, she still managed to retain enough of her humanity to avoid doing anything she might have regretted later.
Irena’s blond hair is tucked neatly behind her ears in soft waves, pinned back with an ivory clip. Her alabaster skin has a faint crimson hue, hinting at her need for sustenance. Her makeup is minimal, only highlighting her features to make her look more human. She’s wearing a modest outfit today, a long-sleeved black dress with nude heels. It’s what she wears when she visits our mother’s grave.
I look at my sister, my face a mask of regret. “Sometimes,” I admit candidly. We’ve been through so much together, growing up in secrecy and living with the knowledge that we were forever changed as a result of our immortality. And then to be tied together to Jedidiah…it’s not something anyone should have to endure. My jaw clenches, and my eyes shutter as I slowly exhale a deep breath. My gaze flits to meet my sister’s knowing eyes, full of understanding. She acknowledges the truth in my countenance before turning back to the photograph for one last look. We’ve both felt that same sentiment, but neither of us has ever spoken it aloud. The pain of what was done to us has always been too raw for words. But here in this moment, in the privacy of my office, I can admit the truth to her. “Sometimes I wish none of this had happened to us in the first place. I often wish that I could have spared you the pain of making you immortal and binding you to him as I am.”
She leans in, her hand resting on top of mine. Her familiar touch seeps through the crevices between my fingers. “If you hadn’t made me immortal and he hadn’t bitten me, I’d be dead. And maybe that would have been better, but then, you would have had to suffer alone.”
“I think I’d rather have suffered alone than have made you suffer with me.”
I pull away from her touch, my heart heavy with regret. The sadness on her face makes her look like a carved statue, with hard lines on every plane and angle.
“He’s planning something,” she tells me, her voice turning hollow. “I’ve seen it. Only bits and pieces every now and again, not enough to put together a full puzzle, but enough to know that…” Her words fade away, and the light in her eyes grows dim. “Enough to know that he’s dealing in the flesh trade.”
