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“Yeah.” My voice was a dry rasp. It had been days since I’d used it. I swallowed and tried again. “Because he will.”
“He’s in Paris, did you know that?”
My heart jumped and smacked against my rib cage.
Big Guy heard, of course. His nasty smile stretched. “But he’s not coming for you. You know why?”
I stared back stonily.
He didn’t need a response. “He’s not coming because he wants you dead. You. Your brothers.”
That provoked me to answer. “Yeah, right. Get your head out of your ass. We’re my father’s only spawn. Why the fuck would he want us dead?”
“Then why are you still in here? Moreau laid a lure tonight, a party that he made sure everyone in Paris knew about. And your father didn’t show.” His lip curled. “He left you here to rot.”
Moreau? My stomach bottomed out. I’d been kidnapped by the Paris Syndicate’s top enforcer?
“How do you know?” I shot back. “If my dad came to the party, he’d make damn sure you didn’t recognize him.”
“We know.” Big Guy smirked.
“Then he had a good reason. He probably figured it for a trap.”
“You think he loves you—a dhampir?”
“I don’t think it. I know it.”
Big Guy shook his head like I had rocks for brains. “You think like a human. Vampires don’t love. They manipulate.”
“Some vampires do both.”
I should know. My father was a cold S.O.B., but he loved me and my brothers. And he was downright soft-hearted when it came to my mom, the human-turned-dhampir he’d taken as his mate.
Big Guy eyed me. His gaze lingered on my neck.
I tensed and clenched my fists. Like I could throw a punch when they had me shackled to the wall.
“Don’t worry.” His mouth curled evilly. “I’m not going to drink from you. Tonight.”
My throat worked. “Go fuck yourself.”
He chuckled. “Now why would I do that when I have all those hot little humans at the party upstairs to fuck?”
Another day and night passed. Big Guy with the Fists—whose name I’d learned was Blaise—returned again to taunt me about my father. So did some of the other members of the lair.
They were trying to turn me against him, and I knew it.
But it was working. I’d been in here how long—four, five days? Plenty of time for Father to have located me. If he was in Paris, why hadn’t he done something?
He and Leo de Froulay, the Paris primus, went way back. Why hadn’t he gone straight to de Froulay and demanded he do something? Then again, if the Paris primus was part of this, maybe Father had decided I wasn’t worth a break with a valuable ally.
Maybe he had left me to rot like Blaise had said.
Father was nothing if not coldly rational. He might have decided I was the son he could most afford to sacrifice. The only son who’d refused to be made a member of the Kral Syndicate.
Stop it. That’s exactly what they want you to think.
My brain wasn’t reasoning correctly. I knew it.
