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Zaq’s brows beetled. “What—?”
The air near Xavier wavered and coalesced, and Karoly Kral stepped out of the shadows, lean and dark, his eyes rimmed a fiery blue.
My stomach lurched and dove for the floor like an out-of-control airplane. I fumbled for my borrowed blades and ranged myself beside Zaq.
The Kral primus was slim and only a little above average height, but he dominated the kitchen like he was Keanu Reeves here to kick ass. Dark suit, broad shoulders, and a narrow, sharp-cheeked face with peaked black brows. His gaze flicked to my knives, but he made no move to defend himself.
Zaq reached out a long arm and swept me behind him. He’d pulled a switchblade too, although unlike me, he kept it at his side. “Father.”
The blue fire surrounding Karoly’s irises winked out. “Hello, Zaquiel.”
I leaned around Zaq and took a surreptitious sniff. The primus smelled like a typical vampire—a little earthy, like a forest after a rain. No rotten taint. And he was clearly in control.
Zaq had been correct. His father wasn’t blood mad…unless he was in the very early stages.
Xavier was still apologizing. “He followed me out of the Ruby. Said either I brought him into the loft with me, or he’d come back with a dozen men and break down the door.”
“It’s all right,” Zaq said without taking his gaze from his dad. “I was going to contact him anyway.”
“You couldn’t have stayed in hiding much longer anyway,” Xavier said. “There are all kinds of rumors about you. You would’ve had to show yourself.”
“It’s all right,” Zaq said again. “Go back to the second floor. I’ve got this.”
Xavier glanced uneasily at Karoly. “You sure?”
The primus slitted his eyes at Xavier. “Go.”
Xavier went.
Zaq’s nostrils flared, testing the air like I had earlier.
His father looked taken aback. “You thought I was blood mad?”
I slipped back around Zaq and stood next to him again. I appreciated that he wanted to protect me, but I wasn’t the cower-behind-her-man type.
“That was me,” I said. “I had intel to that effect.”
“Hmm.” Karoly’s cold dark eyes moved over me. “So you’re the famous Reaper. Or should I call you Ridley?”
I lifted my chin. If I was going to die, I’d do it with my head up and my shoulders back. “Reaper’s fine.”
“The slayer who kidnapped my son.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyway. “Yes.”
“She’s also the woman who got me out of Moreau’s dungeon,” interjected Zaq.
“Is she?” He turned back to his son. “On the other hand, you wouldn’t have been there if not for her.”
Zaq tightened his grip on his switchblade. He’d recovered from his surprise and donned his stern syndicate-prince face. “She’s mine.”
There he was, claiming me again in no uncertain terms.
And like when he’d said it earlier, my chest compressed, my emotions a tangled coil of yearning and wariness.
“Mm.” Karoly cut another cool look at me.
Zaq moved forward, interposing himself between me and his father again. “Why don’t we sit down?”
