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The end of his sentence was lost in Maddox hauling him physically away to his office.
“Now you’re going to beat me simply for pointing out your hypocrisy, is that it?”
Maddox did not whip Lorien, even though his attitude was in grave need of adjusting. He had also had time to think, and Lorien was not wrong. He was not right, either.
“Has it occurred to you that I might hold you to a higher standard? That I might consider you my heir?”
“Me?” Lorien’s eyes widened and he pointed a finger at himself.
“Yes. Lorien. You.”
“But Will…”
“Will is my lover. My boy. My pet. My whelp. You are of my kind. My son. You are different.”
Lorien’s expression underwent a great many contortions, all of which were uncommonly pleasant and surprised. He settled on a smile. “You mean one day, all of this will be mine, if something was to happen to you?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Maddox cautioned him. “I intend to haunt this planet for many years to come.”
“Your heir,” Lorien said. “That’s nice.”
“It is.”
“Technically, then, I’m a prince. A vampire prince.”
“Yes. Technically.”
Lorien’s smile could not have been wider. He stood straighter and his eyes were brighter. “Vampire prince," he murmured to himself.
“Now that you’re happy, can we please find William?”
“I can get you Chauvelin. That’s it.”
“Good enough.”
They found Chauvelin sitting on his makeshift throne in the basement of the twins’ old home. Maddox was not surprised. The cocky little shit had always had nerve, and what showed more nerve than waiting for the vampire king himself to appear while sitting on a throne of one’s own construction.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Chauvelin said unnecessarily. He still had that dark, devious appearance, but otherwise becoming vampire had done wonders for Chauvelin’s complexion and general appearance. He was still a weaselly little bastard, but he was becoming a force to be reckoned with. Or perhaps one to be slain. That was yet to be seen and largely depended on the outcome of this meeting.
“Where is William?” Maddox demanded.
Chauvelin gave a little shrug. “How should I know?”
“I will stake you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I think you do care. I think you care very much.”
“I really don’t,” Chauvelin said, briefly inspecting his nails before turning his attention back to Maddox. “I have already died. I don't fear it. I’m not one of your crawling, sniveling subjects holding on to conditional immortality.”
Maddox felt a reluctant admiration for the fledgling. He would certainly have never had the nerve to stand up to an ancient when he was a young vampire. Chauvelin needed a harsh lesson in respect, however.
“You killed the ones I loved,” Chauvelin said. “Do you understand that others have feelings, Maddox? And that there are consequences for actions?”
“Well,” Lorien coughed. “This is a little awkward.”
“What?”
