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Nate glimpsed her throwing him a baleful glance as he walked out of the room.
“Nathaniel! It’s so good to see you.”
Nate wished he could say the same, but the party was so boring from the moment he stepped into it until now, hours later, and with endless conversations that were drawn out and empty of meaning. Still, he tried to smile at the approaching figure, whose mustache didn’t match the youthful face and bouncy steps.
“Good evening, Rohan. Aren’t you supposed to be in your pajamas?”
The jest was accepted in good spirits as Rohan laughed and vigorously shook his hand.
“Those times have passed, my man, and I can finally join you and the others in glamorous events like this.”
“And here I thought your mother wanted to lock you up in the basement forever,” he mused, earning another laugh. To be fair, Rohan’s mother could be commended for that, considering the younger of their kind were the most reckless these days. Rohan was different, more interested in proving himself a powerful figure of House Sicily than fucking around.
“She can’t keep me locked up forever, but I’m relieved that I’m of an age now. What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you since….”
“Last month. When you snuck into my brother’s party,” Nate supplied. And he had snuck Rohan out just as the party had turned rowdy.
As if on cue, he glimpsed Nicholas Hendricks entering the scene and immediately snag the crowd's attention while the man smiled and licked his lips, where Nate deduced there was a trace of blood under the teeth. But no one would call Nick out on that, not when blood parties were being secretly held in a lot of corners of the castle and House Hendricks—the family who was supposed to be mindful against killing multiple lives on the daily and bringing balance to this island—chose to turn a blind eye. His hand fisted, so he turned away from his brother, wondering how many had been killed today and how their parents would sweep it under the rug.
“You are right. But I was just so excited and couldn’t wait. Is your brother holding any more parties in the near future? Private ones?”
“Not that I know of. Excuse me, Rohan.”
Nate glanced at the elevated throne as he walked away, unfazed to find the King and Queen absent again. So far, six men had approached him intending to discuss business while three women suggested a rendezvous somewhere private, where they could either pleasure each other, drink from a human servant, or talk about his family after some fucking. He was charming to them all but subtly evasive, understanding they all led to one thing: that he and Nick were their closest sources to sucking it up with the ruling couple. Nick basked in the attention, but there was something off about him that Nate couldn’t pinpoint.
“What the hell is it?” he mumbled, observing from a secluded corner.
It took him seconds to realize that his brother’s fingers were shaking, hence their repeated fisting in silk trouser pockets. The restlessness soon thrummed in the man’s expression, on edge as black eyes flitted around and only settled on the sight of a male human roaming around serving drinks. Nick’s gaze gobbled up the sight. Just like that, Nate knew what was up: his brother was on drugs—again—and hungering for a kill.
He casually pushed off his spot and roamed around, avoiding figures who knew him. When he reached the servant, he plucked off the last champagne on the tray and clasped the man’s wrist.
“I need you to deliver a tray of this to House Chatterley. Let them know it’s from me.”
The man looked up, confused. “Master, aren’t I supposed to make the rounds and deliver drinks?”
Nate met his gaze and let his words shimmer. “You will bring a tray of our finest champagne to House Chatterley. You will tell them that Nathaniel Hendricks sent you to serve them for the night.”
The man’s eyes glazed. With a nod of his head, the man was floating his way out of the venue with no one the wiser as to where he was headed. Nate kept an eye on his exit, then on his brother conversing with a member of House Richardson, and didn’t notice. When Nick was done and searched around again, Nate looked away, assured that House Chatterley would understand his message and keep the servant safe in the meantime.
The good thing about his brother’s obsession was how Nick scouted specific targets, and any other prey just wouldn’t do in that particular moment. Assured that Nick would be left frustrated for the rest of the night, Nate spun to face the next approaching sound of footsteps.
“Nathaniel. I have been meaning to talk to you.”
“Of course, you have.”
Denison Rue smiled, oblivious to the mild sarcasm. The man went on about how good business was without asking questions, a rather unique tactic as he preened around his words and made sure Nate knew how successful their house was in its endeavors lately. Winter’s face floated in his mind. Then her words followed and had him ruminating.
“And I always knew Uncle would like it, so I pushed ahead with the idea.”
“Hmm.” Nate sipped from his glass and peered over it. “Do you want a ring?”
“Ring?”
“Nose ring.”
Denison looked like he was torn between pretending to understand and confessing that he had no idea what Nate was talking about. The man went for the latter, laughing it off.
“I’m sorry?”
