I finally broke and took a sip of my drink. Then I leaned back in my chair. “She’s not what I expected.”
“How so?”
I didn’t immediately respond. Words were just as dangerous as fangs and weapons in my family, and I wasn’t ready to go to war with my mother.
After a few moments, Seraphina lifted a single brow.
Finally, with a sigh, I rose from my chair and walked to the bar cart, pouring my mother a glass of bloodwine. “She didn’t cower,” I told my mother simply. “And I don’t believe I frighten her. Not in the least.”
I turned and handed Seraphina the glass.
“Yes, I didn’t expect she would,” my mother replied.
“You didn’t?”
“There are two types of people in this world,” my mother said. “Those who truly fear us and our family, and those who don’t.”
I blinked, then laughed. “Yes, well, those are the only two options.”
“A Laurent would not fear us,” Seraphina continued.
Her statement caught my attention. I took my seat behind the desk again and eyed her. “You know the Laurent family personally?”
“I do,” she admitted, though she didn’t offer any other information.
“You didn’t think to mention that when we last spoke?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “My past with the Laurent family is irrelevant. What matters is Isadora. I wonder if she realizes how precarious her position is. She’s alone here, with no family, no friends, and no money.”
“She doesn’t seem too concerned,” I replied.
My mother waited another moment, then rolled her eyes. “For crying out loud, Lucien. Do you have anything of substance to report?”
“I’ve spoken with her once, Mother,” I said. And couldn’t get her out of my mind since, but that was neither here nor there. “These sorts of things take time. Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re here, so we both can get back to our nights.” Well, mornings.
Her lips curled into a grin, one that exposed her teeth. My mother was still a vampire, after all.
“Your father wished to inform you that one of the Wolfe daughters entered Miss Laurent’s bar this morning. As you refused to take his call, I felt it best to deliver this news in person.”
“Which Wolfe?” I asked.
“Theodora,” my mother replied, her voice flattening with disdain.
My jaw tightened.
Thorne.
Of all the Wolfes—and there were quite a few of them—it had to be her.
The youngest of the brood and the loudest by choice, Thorne didn’t bark or growl like her brothers. She was clever, and worse, she knew it. I’d always found her grating. Perhaps because she was difficult to out-think, unlike her brutish siblings.
“Thorne,” I repeated.
Seraphina watched me carefully. “She hasn’t left the bar since.”
Of course she hadn’t. Thorne never did anything halfway. If she’d stepped inside Miss Laurent’s bar, it wasn’t for a drink or a friendly chat.
So, perhaps Miss Laurent wasn’t as alone as we’d first estimated. How curious.
