“Then you’ll see how dangerous I really can be.”
A slow smile curled his lips. “Is it terrible that I’m quite intrigued to see how terribleourKara can be when pushed?”
“Not terrible. But weird as fuck.” I was fully aware that his banter was intended to get me to relax enough to drop my defenses and give him an opening. “Belham, let me handle this.” I was acutely aware of the effortless way he handled the sword, flicking it back and forth between the fuller and the edge, waiting for a chance to get past me. “I can’t find out anything if he’s dead.”
“I’ll leave him alive,” he conceded, showing the edge of his teeth in a menacing smile.
“Barely alive doesn’t make people amenable to speaking. His wrist is broken, and he doesn’t heal as you do. A point has been made.”
It was clear the only point he wanted made was the blade making some contact with Jonah’s body.
“I think this stunt of Corrine’s warrants you becoming the new owner of the stake of necri, don’t you think?” I added.
It was rather a given, but now he knew I’d make no effort to persuade him to return the stake to its owner. Splitting my attention between him and my phone, I called Rachel. Despite him not requiring her to be placed on speaker, I did. He listenedintently as I scheduled an appointment for her to bind the House of Knight to it.
“Can she remove the House of Hollows from it?” Belham’s eyes were still scanning for a vulnerable opening.
“No,” Rachel replied. She sounded sincere. I couldn’t determine whether it was a lie but was grateful she’d said it.
“Rachel, please try to find one,” he requested.
“Of course.” She ended the call before I could, obviously avoiding being pulled into the middle of the mess I clearly was in. It was doubtful she’d missed Jonah’s whimpering in the background.
Belham seemed more satisfied with the situation, but Jonah had ignited his lust for violence, and this passive solution didn’t satiate it.
“William,” I called out, knowing that no matter how massive the house, he’d hear me. Within moments, a man was leaning against the doorframe. At six four, he was a few inches taller than Belham. His coarse-textured waves were shorn close to his scalp. William presented as a man in his early forties; hints of gray were interwoven in his dark-brown hair. Definitely the work of his barber. His clean-shaven face gave an unobstructed view of diamond-cut features. Teak-brown skin contrasted beautifully with the pearl-colored shirt he wore. Vampire conversion gave William molten brown eyes that could go from blade-sharp to gentle kindness in a blink.
His perceptive eyes roamed over the room, assessing Belham, the sword he held, and the witch scrunched in the corner, happy to accept me as his shield. William’s amiable smile fell when he noticed how intently Belham’s gaze was set on me. I appreciated and was cautiously aware of his unassuming power.
“Kara can never be a casualty of your anger,” William said softly.
Belham opened his mouth to speak. William materialized before him in a heartbeat, a finger placed lightly over his lips. Had it been anyone other than William exhibiting such behavior, they would have been left with a nub.
“It doesn’t require a response, just a nod,” he said.
Belham nodded. The fiery anger drained from his expression enough for him to show some semblance of humanity toward the witch.
William was the actual shield. I still didn’t know what I had done to deserve such protection that extended beyond the walls of their house, but far too often, I was grateful for it. The guilt wrenched at me, but I knew what he thought warranted such protection. They had more than compensated me for my one act of goodwill, but if he discovered what had happened that night, I might earn their wrath rather than a job and protection.
Belham and William had perfected the bad vampire and somewhat reasonable vampire roles they presented to the world. Being their liaison, I knew it was just that: a performance, in which both easily slipped from the appearance of kindness to showing a ruthlessness that would make anyone wary. William hid it better, often letting Belham be the face of unfettered violence and cruelty.
“Go. I will help Kara.” Skepticism passed over William’s face when Belham squared his shoulders and remained rooted in place. William appeared to doubt that Belham had full control of his emotions, so he escorted him out the door, closing it behind him.
William’s mild manner unnerved Jonah, whose short, ragged breaths filled the room.
“Do you want me to heal him?” William asked me.
“No. I just want to leave,” Jonah squawked, rising and taking hold of my shirt with his uninjured arm, positioning me in front of him as a shield.
“He’s not the one you should worry about,” I said, moving away from him.
William smiled, exposing his deadly fangs. “If Kara chose to protect your life, I will honor that.” The weight of William’s attention made the color drain from Jonah’s face. “For the time being.”
He’d shed his hubris from earlier.
“I’ll finish up here and leave,” I told William. Nodding, he started to back away. I nudged my chin toward the discarded stake. “Take that. It belongs to your house now.”
His smile widened as he picked up the new acquisition. “Rachel is scheduled to link your house to it,” I informed him.
