Page 479 of Black Reign

“No.”

Xavier says, “Yes.”

I turn.

“Ghost.”

“Vesper.”

Pierre looks between us.

He has learned that tone means negotiations have begun.

“Grand-père said he will bring scones.”

I hesitate.

Xavier smiles.

“Got you.”

I point at both Blackwell men.

“This family is manipulative.”

Pierre takes a bite of biscuit.

“Technically I'm half Beaumont.”

My mouth falls open.

Xavier slowly looks at me.

I point toward our son.

“That. That is you.”

“No.”

“Absolutely you.”

Pierre walks back toward his father's desk.

He climbs into Xavier's chair, adjusts it upward, puts on a pair of child-sized blue-light glasses his grandfather had custom made, and returns to his video game.

Clack-clack-clack.

I watch him.

Dark hair.

Blackwell eyes.

My stubborn mouth.

Papa's mind somewhere inside all of it.

Safe.