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I noted that the Red Shark, the other party in the Paradise Bend fiasco, had placed himself a few seats away from the Long Night too. He didn’t meet my eyes at all, fiddling with a pen he periodically clicked against the table as if he were bored by the proceedings. Just more posturing.
Before I’d quite reached the chair I was aiming for, another member strolled over. My teeth set on edge as I forced a smile at the fifty-something man in the sleek violet suit. He was grinning at me, but there was no warmth in his expression.
“The old man couldn’t be bothered to make an appearance, hmm?” Doom’s Seed said, pulling a cigar from his suit pocket. His thick tie was banded with silver stripes so shiny they were almost blinding. The guy always wore the flashiest clothing out of all of us, sauntering around the place like he was the sauvest man in the world. I was pretty surethatwasn’t true.
He’d asked the question mildly, but behind the sparkle in his eyes, his penetrating gaze told me that he’d meant to rankle me. He was poking for weak spots. It wasn’t unusual—it was what we all did. The most powerful people in the world couldn’t help evaluating each other’s power at every turn.
I kept my voice perfectly even. “I’m starting to transition into the role of the Storm myself. My father and I have decided it’s best if I attend some of the meetings so that I can become fully immersed in the work. I assure you that I can speak for him and that any decisions I make are the Storm’s.”
Attending the meetings of the Devil’s Dozen when the baton hadn’t officially been passed on was unusual, but I knew it wasn’t unheard of. Doom’s Seed couldn’t accuse me of any kind of misconduct. He tapped the end of his cigar against his lips with a soft huff. “He has a lot of faith in youth then, does he?”
Another attempted jab, but easily ignored. “He’s very satisfied with how I’ve handled our business so far.”
Doom’s Seed shrugged. “With the way of the world these days, I would have thought your father would be interested in hearing about any new threats and opportunities first hand, that’s all.”
“He trusts that I’ll tell him whatever he needs to know,” I said calmly. “And it’s better that I’m prepared for when we make the full transition.”
“I know I don’t plan on giving upmyposition any time soon,” the other man said with a lightly scoffing tone.
I couldn’t resist getting in a subtle jab of my own. “I suppose we don’t always get a choice about it. I doubt the Blood Hunter planned to give up his seat when he did.”
Your time may be limited, was the unspoken message.You’re not untouchable.
Both our gazes slid to the young woman sitting at the other end of the table, the current Blood Hunter who’d taken over the position two years ago after some kind of hostile takeover that I wasn’t clear on the details of. She was the only person in the room under forty other than me, probably only a few years older than my twenty-three, but her pose emanated strength and quiet confidence, her dark eyes alertly assessing beneath the fall of her black hair as she scanned the room.
Doom’s Seed appeared to feel he’d gotten everything he could out of the conversation, which wasn’t much, and ambled back to the chair he’d taken. I settled into my own, holding back the urge to clench my hands.
He had no idea how close to home his comments had hit. I wasn’t here because of Dad’s investment in my learning the ropes but because Dad had become souninvested in so much of our business in general. I had no idea how much the true Storm even cared about keeping the business afloat these days. He might even have preferred to see it slip through his fingers so he could walk away.
But I would keep the family legacy together. I would set the Storm’s empire on a new path, and I wasn’t going to let any of the people around me catch one hint of our current weakness.
Especially Doom’s Seed. No doubt one of the reasons he liked to test me, if not the main reason, was the fact that some of his territory bordered the Storm’s. Maybe he thought he might stage a little takeover of his own if he got the sense that he could get away with it without consequences.
All of these people were circling me as if I were the bait in a tank of sharks, and one misstep would ruin everything. But as long as they never realized how precarious my position was, Dad and I would be just fine.
I took in the rest of the table from my new vantage point, reflecting as I had the few times I’d attended meetings before on how same-y this group was. Of the thirteen of us, ten were men, and ten were white. All but me and the Blood Hunter were middle-aged or above. Yet another committee of sorts run mostly by old white dudes. But then, that was where the ultimate influence tended to land even in this day and age. It was impressive to have a few who didn’t fit the mold among us.
One of those was this meeting’s leader, the only member of the Devil’s Dozen who broke the mold in not one but two ways. The Deadly Rose was sitting at the head of the table, glancing over notes on her tablet with occasional flicks of her gaze around the room to confirm who’d arrived.
I could tell at a glance that this woman could live up to the “Deadly” part of her name if required. She looked to be in her early fifties, but her slim brown arms were defined with toned muscles. She held herself with an air of authority that more than matched the men around her. Her trim white pantsuit contrasted with the dark complexion that came with her obvious Latina heritage—and highlighted the vicious flash of her teeth before she pushed herself to her feet as the last of our number reached the table.
When she cleared her throat, the few conversations that’d started around the table ended in an instant. Her gaze traveled around the table, holding each of ours for a second, her expression carefully neutral.
“All right,” she said, drawing herself up even straighter with a tone that was strictly professional. “Lets get down to the business of being the people who actually rule this world.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Madelyn
Istrode into the law library with a travel mug of coffee in hand, holding on to optimism that the trucking company Slade had grabbed documents for might get us somewhere with our investigation. The last I’d heard, Dexter was working on the code and Logan was digging up whatever he could find on the company online.
I’d arrived a little early like I preferred to, since being late always made me feel guilty, so I slowed as I walked past the tables and the shelving units beyond, anticipating that I’d need to wait for one of the guys to show up to unlock the door. My mind was so wrapped up in the possibilities ahead of us that I’d almost reached the Vigil office before I registered the smoky scent in the air.
My legs stiffened beneath me. My gaze flicked around the room and snagged on a thin waft of smoke seeping from beneath the office door. I backed up a step, a startled yelp bursting out of me.
Even as I watched, more smoke curled up from under the door and wisped into the air. A prickling sensation formed in my throat. Why hadn’t any alarms gone off?
“Help!” I shouted, backing up more. “Someone call 911! I think there’s a fire back here.”
