Page 1 of Big Dix

Chapter One

Munro

They were all leeches, ready to suck the nearest throats before ducking into hiding. Each one held their head high, showing off the thumping vein at the side of their necks as the pointless banter continued, uninterrupted.

Powerless. Useless. Boring.Munro scraped his nails over the throne he sat on, his legs crossed and the hem of his suit inching up his leg. It was a newer-style pant that had come about in the last few decades, the fabric lighter yet infinitely more expensive. It would take a hundred cups of tea to pay for it, the dregs congealing at the bottom of the porcelain and giving him new inspiration on the next color for his wardrobe.

Munro held up his hand and the conversation cut off with a stuttered gasp, every gaze turning to him. There were eyes of every color that made up the collection his family had become, the variety the only reminders of the past and the places he struggled to forget.

“Get to the point,” said Munro, nudging his chin at Tess, who was nearest to him. She was shorter than most of his family, the tips of her dark hair thrumming with violet tones that matched the artificial contacts she had placed into her eyes. The thin film covered the lovely brown that her maker had fallen in love with.

She pursed her lips, sending a glare across the table to Corby. He stared back, his gaze calculating and hard. Corby must nothave known the rumors that circulated about her and how she had murdered her maker in cold blood the moment she was free of her mortality. Her maker had looked similar to Corby, too, with the same short blond hair and square jaw.

Munro smirked to himself, leaning his head against his hand.Hopefullysomething interesting would happen.

“I amnotgoing to allow women to become baby factories just because our numbers are declining,” said Tess, her voice calm and frigid. “Men are more than capable of upping the population themselves if they had the balls to do it.”

Corby let out a growl, flashing his fangs as he curled his lips. It was far less intimidating than he probably intended. “I’m not splitting my power with somemortaljust to keep you out of carrying an extra load around for a few months. We’d be discovered within weeks. Society today has no idea how to keep a secret—”

Corby obviously had the same feelings about splitting his power as Munro did. It was a completely vulnerable sensation to halve your power down the middle and thrust it upon a mortal so they could carry out more years than nature had ever intended. Munro had only done it once himself, and there were days he still regretted it.

But unfortunately, there were only two ways to make a vampire.

Munro tapped his fingernails on the arm of his throne, leaning hard into the uncomfortable wood. He had commissioned the furniture out of pure spite, giving himself a throne while the rest of his family—his murder—was forced to stand around the obsidian table. If they got too close, they would discover the magic embedded within the stone—one of the last real proofs that magic had ever existed.

“We are not starting this endless conversation again,” said Munro, resisting the urge to shift on the chair. Cushions were inorder if these meetings stretched any longer than they already were. “If you want to turn someone, go ahead, but face the risks. As for our ladies—I’m sure they would be happy to remind you of how well defended they are if anyattemptson their freedom were to be made.”

There were a few murmurs of assent around the room, even from Kail, which was surprising. As one of the youngest, he often stayed silent, not offering the slightest hint as to what was happening behind those green eyes. It was the exact reason Munro had chosen him after his predecessor had beenremoved.

“Anything new?” asked Munro, trying to steer the conversation before an actual fight broke out. As amusing as it would have been, he had to work soon. The shop was already starting to bustle beyond the thick oak door, the smell of spices and sugar thickening the air.

Rhys, who was standing at the other head of the table, shifted, drawing all attention. “We’ve had a few tech failures. As fast as our technologies advance, mortals have numbers on their side. Social media is becoming particularly hard to keep our presence from. A video was released last week that was seen by over a thousand users before our bots managed to take it down. We suspended the account and tracked it, but it looks like it was a ghost account.”

Munro nodded, running his tongue over his lower lip. A fresh wave of cinnamon sparked in the air, and his stomach grumbled. “Good.”

Rhys shook his head, his hair nearly dusting his shoulders. “Not good. We got lucky this time that it was stopped before it went viral. Next time we may not be.”

A grin slipped over Munro’s lips. “I don’t believe in luck.” He left his gaze on Rhys until he squirmed, looking away. “We’ve been discovered before. Most of you weren’t born, but let meassure you that we quickly faded into fable, where we belong. Oh, the fearsome creatures we became.”

Corby scoffed. “Not before thousands of us were burned and staked—hunted in our very homes and murdered by people who should have been our prey.”

Munro raised one brow, and the man fell silent. “Trust me when I say that number was grossly exaggerated. There’s only one thing that was truly extinguished on this planet, and we had more of a hand in that than any other group. Magic was fickle and not meant to be.”

A murmur of assent again moved around the table. They agreed, but none of them reallyknew.

Only glimpses of magic remained, most of it tethered to artifacts like the soul-sucking table that made a fine decoration in the otherwise righteous meeting room. The first time each of them had looked upon it, there had been such fear and utter loathing in their eyes.

Munro glanced at the massive clock that was perched over the door. Through the thick wood he could catch sounds of the kitchen preparations, one crashing dish souring his mood. “Join me for tea—those who can, at least. Tess, I understand you need to leave us. Know that you’ll be missed.”

The dismissal couldn’t have been clearer.

“Covi,” said Tess, lowering her eyes and giving a small nod as she uttered her indication of respect. Munro used to loathe the title, but it had grown on him as the centuries settled. Now it was the way most members of his murder addressed him.

She headed for the door, the others following behind her at a slower pace and filing out until only Rhys remained.

Rhys smiled as the last of them left, relaxing his shoulders. “I think you like teasing them like that.” He tugged at the buttons on his shirt until it hung wide, showing off the naked plane of his chest. He was the lucky type who seemed almost naturallyhairless, leaving an unobstructed view of a millennia of hard work.

“You know me too well.” Munro heaved himself from the throne, brushing off a few invisible specks from his clothing as Rhys drew close. Next to him rested another throne that wasn’t meant for sitting, the sharp points of antlers catching his eye.