Page 20 of Death Dance

SIX

That was when everyone thought you were male, rabid, and lived on the streets.

My mother’s edict ushered in unadulterated chaos. Clarke went from calm to driven and ready to indulge in various acts of murder in the blink of an eye. Emerick scowled, but he knew better than to direct any of his displeasure my mother’s way.

My father laughed, as did my brothers.

The rest of the family, excluding Alheen and Darius, excused themselves and left, much to my relief.

“Ben? Can you make certain Annora and Gerry keep Edgar occupied through this? The last thing we need is him picking up on the excessive desire for violence just when we’re starting to contain his vampiric nature and restart his development,” Emerick requested. “Perhaps my maker could invite them to Europe for a time?”

That caught Clarke’s attention. “Of course. Breckenan knows better than to venture to Europe. He has received numerous warnings that his stint as a vampire will come to an end should he step foot there. The established broods will not tolerate his ilk. They delivered the warning with the head of one of his vampires.”

That was news to me. “When did that happen?”

“That was when everyone thought you were male, rabid, and lived on the streets,” he replied.

Ah. “I still might be rabid. Nobody has actually tested me for rabies. Who knows what sorts of ailments I acquired from drinking all that bad blood. I might start frothing and take everyone out with me when I go.” I escaped Emerick’s hold and headed for the kitchen, where enough ingredients for one last lonely hot chicken sandwich waited for me. “Perhaps we should host an engagement party in Europe, invite this woman, and lure Breckenan to where every vampire on the continent would be pleased to help us tear him to pieces. I wouldn’t complain about sharing the glory in that case. The more the merrier.”

Emerick sighed, shooed me away from the precious hot chicken sandwich ingredients, and went to work assembling my snack. “Mr. Francis, Breckenan has already demonstrated that he is more than capable of assaulting broods and doing a great deal of damage. How did he manage to kidnap Pepper?”

My father frowned. “Alheen?”

“She remembers nothing of being kidnapped,” he replied in a gentle tone. “But from my understanding, it was during daylight hours, right on the street with witnesses.”

“That’s correct,” my father confirmed.

I wondered how much worse life would have been for me if I had any memories of my ordeal.

On second thought, I didn’t want to know. To keep my morbid curiosity at bay, I focused on the future. “I am more than ready to get on with the rest of my life. How do we efficiently get rid of this menace and break down his operations?”

“We play his game,” my father informed me. “And we play it harder and better.”

“Elaborate, please.”

My father picked up one of the bottles of oil on the counter, lifted it up, and peered into the dark glass. “We first sabotage his corporate efforts. I have played the game to make it appear as though I have been significantly inconvenienced by his efforts. In reality, that’s not the case. I’ve been fortifying, making preparations, and am ready to become quite aggressive. I have found many of his fiscal sins, and it’s a delivery or two from being exposed to the government. Exposure will make the rest of his dealings significantly weaken, and then the true fun begins. Other vampires, who find Breckenan distasteful at best, are ready to swoop in and take his holdings at far below market value. He is young, inexperienced, and does not yet know how to handle being the prey.”

That was something my father would do—and he would do it well.

But rather than natural ruthlessness, he had significant experience backing him, something I would need to get used to.

I sighed, tapping my foot while Emerick took his time.

“She reminds me of a starved beast, but she knows I’m not going to give her the sandwich until she has demonstrated some patience,” he commented with a grin. “She’s remarkably easy to dominate. All I have to do is tell her I will make her a turkey. She becomes clay in my hands.”

I really did. “You’re quite skilled at making turkey, and you turn the turkey you make into mashed potato volcanoes with gravy and meat. I am unashamed of my actions.”

“There is no shame in enjoying something,” Emerick reminded me. “But I am concerned over what would happen if I were to drive up to you in a rusty white van promising free food.”

“Are you the food? If so, I’m getting into the van.”

He laughed. “Pretend it’s a stranger in a rusty white van.”

“Are they bad vampires?”

“Sure. For this scenario, they are bad vampires.”

“I’m getting into the rusty white van, where they become my free food,” I reported.