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I picked up my blood-wine again and drained the rest of the glass before motioning for Aubin to refill my glass. He waited for his boss’s nod, then did so.
Moreau rested his cigarette on an ashtray. “Let me speak frankly.”
“Please.” My ironic tone made the skin around his eyes tightened.
Behind me, Reaper shifted slightly. I could almost hear her telling me not to poke the bear.
Fuck that. I could care less if I pissed him off. Hell, I wanted him to attack me. Better to die a quick, clean death than go slowly mad from dehydration and silver poisoning.
Moreau said, “You’re here because you’ve been targeted by Slayers, Inc. A slayer has also been sent after each of your brothers.”
My heart pounded in my ears. The salon’s red-and-gold walls pressed in on me.
Gabriel and Rafe were in danger? It wasn’t just me, it was my brothers too?
Moreau was still talking. “But you can stop it.”
I drew a jagged breath and focused on him. “How?”
“By staking your father.”
I recoiled, blinked. “Stake my father?” I repeated slowly, like it would make more sense the second time I heard it. “SI is after me and my brothers, but if I stake my father, I can stop it.”
“Yes. His life for yours. We’ve decided to give you a chance to save your brothers. We’ll send you to New York. Stake your father, and Slayers, Inc. will call off the contract on you and your brothers.”
Okay, he was serious. I swiped a hand over my face. “So why are you involved?”
A small smile. “I have my reasons.”
“Victorine put you up to this, didn’t she?” I curled my lip. “She doesn’t want to be caught breaking the treaty, so she’s trying to get one of us to stake him instead. Well, tell her to go fuck herself.”
Reaper hissed. “Listen to him, will you?”
“No. This is bullshit and you know it.”
“It’s the truth,” she said. “Believe it.”
Moreau shook his head like I was a naïve idiot. “My people tell me that you refuse to believe Karoly’s abandoned you. You’re so loyal to him. I wonder why. He hasn’t come to your rescue, has he? And he knew you were being held in silver cuffs—I texted him the photo myself—but here you are, still in my lair. Maybe he’s decided you’re not worth the trouble. A dhampir.”
A muscle jumped in my jaw. I shook my head and tried not to see Blaise’s taunting face.
“He wants you dead. You. Your brothers.”
Moreau continued, relentless. “Karoly has done nothing to get you out. He hasn’t even approached Leo de Froulay for assistance, and I made sure he discovered that you were in one of my cells. So why are you still here, hmm?”
Deep inside, the beast lifted its head again. I glowered at Moreau. “You’re lying. You’re trying to turn me against him, and it won’t work.”
“It’s true,” Reaper confirmed. “Karoly hasn’t attempted to rescue you. He was in Paris, but he left a few days ago.”
No. I shook my head. There had to be another explanation. A reason.
I flexed my fingers on the armrests. I had the urge to clap my hands over my ears like a toddler and shut out his words. But that wouldn’t shut out the voice in my head.
“He left you here to rot.”
“If you won’t believe the truth about your father,” Moreau asked, “what about your brothers? Are you willing to gamble on their safety? SI has already embedded a slayer in your brother Gabriel’s staff, and a second slayer has been assigned to Rafael.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Reaper. She dipped her chin. “It’s true.” Her tone was flat, a little apologetic.
