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He indicated the couch and chairs in front of the unlit fireplace, and we all moved into the living room. “I’ll stand,” I said.
“Ridley.” Zaq looked at me and gave a slight shake of his head.
“Let her stand,” said Karoly.
Zaq sat on a couch and his father took a nearby chair. I stood behind the couch a little to Zaq’s right, deliberately choosing a defensive position, my blades out but at my sides. I wouldn’t attack first, but if Karoly went for Zaq, all bets were off.
Karoly’s small smile acknowledged my body language. “I see you’ve acquired your own personal wolf-dog,” he said to Zaq.
Maybe he meant to be insulting, but I wasn’t insulted.
“Damn straight,” I said under my breath.
Zaq’s mouth twitched but he kept his focus on his father. “I don’t need an attack dog, do I? Unless you’re here to stake me.”
Karoly’s brows lifted. “The way I hear it, you’re here to stake me.”
Oh-kay. Way to bring things out in the open, guys.
But my apprehension eased. It was a good sign that they were both laying it out there, as well as further proof that Karoly wasn’t blood mad. He was too relaxed about the fact that his son might be here to stake him.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. Another thing Crow had lied about.
But no, I couldn’t put this all on her. Shame filled me. It was another thing I’d been blind about, because in my head, a vampire father was no father at all.
Zaq had put his leather wristbands back on. He slid a fingertip beneath the wristband of the hand holding the switchblade, itching the scar.
His father’s eyes flickered. “Moreau?”
Zaq’s jaw hardened. “Silver burns from the cuffs.”
“I saw the photo.”
Zaq bared his fangs and leaned forward. “He’s dead. And I claim the right to be the one who takes him out.”
“Of course.” His father smiled back.
Zaq gave a satisfied nod and sat back.
“So,” said his father. “What is this I hear about a coup and you joining Slayers, Inc. and coming to New York to stake me?”
“It’s a fucking lie, all of it,” said Zaq. “But first—.” He retracted his switchblade and laid it on the coffee table.
I tensed, my gaze darting to the primus. I bent my knees, readying myself to move quickly. If he attacked Zaq, I was going over the couch.
Karoly’s face softened. “Tell me.”
My eyes widened. I straightened, my gaze bouncing between the two men.
The primus loved his son. Zaq had been right about that, too.
“These stories about a coup are a lie. But I did come to New York to stake you, and for that I’m sorry.” Zaq’s jaw worked. “So damn sorry. But it was the only way to get out of that fucking cell.”
34
ZAQ
Father’s gaze assessed me, but I didn’t feel judged. He simply wanted to know how damaged I was, and who was to blame.
