Page 61 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

I frowned, the word fledgling scraping along old nerves. “I haven’t been a fledgling for ages.”

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet but resolute. “You never really were. But your past haunts you. It still does. I, of all people, understand what that is like.”

The honesty in his tone left no room to dodge. I leaned back, closing my eyes, letting the vibration of the plane fill the pause. “I appreciate you waiting,” I said finally—and meant it.

He gave a single nod, then turned his gaze to the window, the cabin lights reflecting in his eyes.

We didn’t speak again for the rest of the flight. We didn’t have to. The air between us said enough—dense with everything that had been spoken and everything that hadn’t.

I knew he was giving me room to come to terms with what he wanted, with what we’d become. And Con… he’d already proven he could play the long game.

The kind of patience that could wait through centuries wouldn’t struggle to wait for me.

The wheels hit the tarmac with a low thud, and the subtle jolt snapped me out of my thoughts. The sky outside was iron-gray, a storm brewing on the horizon. Shadow Bone lay only a short drive away, but for the first time in a long while, I didn’t want to go back.

The engines wound down, the drone fading into quiet. Con rose first, his movements composed, and offered his hand. I ignored it, unbuckled my belt, and stood on my own. He didn’t comment—just inclined his head toward the open hatch.

We descended into the waiting wind. The scent of rain mingled with jet fuel as a limousine pulled up along the edge of the runway, its black body gleaming beneath the floodlights. Con spoke briefly to the driver, who bowed and opened the rear door.

The interior was warm and still. The kind of silence that wasn’t comfort but bracing. Con sat beside me with his usual straight-backed posture, one hand braced on his knee, the other resting lightly near the hilt of his sword. I watched the world blur past outside—the shrinking plane, the gray sky, the smear of trees and asphalt.

The closer we drew to Shadow Bone, the heavier the atmosphere became. It wasn’t just the coming storm—it was something older and thicker, a tension that crawled under my skin.

By the time we rolled through the wrought-iron gates, the mansion’s silhouette rose like a shadow against the slate sky. Lights blazed in nearly every window—more than usual.

“Something’s wrong,” I said quietly.

Con nodded, his gaze already sweeping the drive, jaw set. “Stay close.”

The driver eased to a stop before the main steps. The front doors swung open before we reached them, and the wave of unease that hit me as we stepped inside was almost tangible.

The foyer, usually orderly and composed, hummed with activity. Vampires—young and ancient—filled the space, their conversations low but sharp-edged, their eyes darting toward Con the second he crossed the threshold.

It was as if the room itself held its breath.

I felt the shift immediately. Not outright hostility, but something close—curiosity edged with apprehension. Their attention followed him with a reverence laced with calculation, as if they were already deciding which way to lean.

Before I could ask, two familiar figures pushed through the crowd. Val and Quinn.

Val’s expression was tight as he approached. Quinn, taller, leaned slightly toward Val’s shoulder, his face drawn but composed.

“Cassara,” Val said quickly, his gaze cutting to Con and back. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

Val hesitated, and Quinn answered first. “Rene.”

Con’s stance changed instantly, subtle but unmistakable. “What about him?”

Quinn dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling. “He stumbled this morning. He recovered fast, but not fast enough. If he’d been human, no one would’ve thought twice. But Rene?” He shook his head. “Everyone saw. And the clan knows something’s wrong.”

My heart clenched.

Rene wasn’t just our leader; he was the spine of the entire structure. A vampire king, old and terrifyingly powerful. The idea of him showing weakness—even for a second—was enough to rattle the foundations.

Val crossed his arms, his voice lower now. “Since then, the tension’s been building. Edward’s faction is suggesting he step down and that Con lead until he ‘recovers.’ Siris’ supporters are calling it a power grab. The clan’s splitting straight down the middle.”

“Who is the front-runner?” Con asked, his tone unreadable.