Page 63 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Con’s tone went flat. “And who did they have in mind?”

Val hesitated, then answered. “Siris. Obviously.”

The name hung in the air like poison.

Siris. The strategist. Once Dimitri’s closest ally, now the face of the rival faction. Calculating. Cold. Everything Con wasn’t—and everything politics adored.

Con’s jaw clenched. “So Edward’s faction wants me in control, while Siris wants the throne for himself.”

“Exactly,” Val said. “Edward believes if you’re named as successor, the death dealers and the younger clans will fall in line. They already whisper your name as if it’s a solution. Siris’ side wants the old guard back in power. They claim Rene’s alliances have weakened us, that we’ve lost our identity—and that the next overseer should come from this house.”

Con exhaled slowly, his voice a low rumble. “And Edward’s playing games with my name to counter him.”

Val nodded. “Both sides are counting support, and both think they’ll win. The mansion’s already divided. If Rene doesn’t intervene soon, the factions will tear each other apart—and they’ll do it under your banner, whether you approve or not.”

For a long stretch, none of us spoke. The air seemed to thicken with the weight of what he’d said.

I looked at Con, watching the muscle in his jaw tic. “You know what this means,” I said quietly. “They’re turning you into a weapon.”

He met my gaze, his gold eyes gone hard. “Then they’ve forgotten something important,” he said.

“What’s that?” I asked.

His hand brushed the hilt of his sword, fingers flexing once on the worn leather. “Weapons don’t choose sides,” he said. “They end wars.”

Val frowned. “You can’t ‘end’ this with force. If you try, you’ll prove Siris right.”

Con’s expression softened only by a fraction. “And if I don’t, I hand this clan to a vulture who’ll bleed it dry.”

Val shook his head. “You’re thinking like a commander. This isn’t a battlefield—it’s politics.”

“Politics,” Con said, turning toward the hall again, “is just another kind of war.”

He started walking, his long stride carrying him toward Rene’s chambers, and I followed close, my thoughts spinning. The pieces were already moving, the board already split.

Siris on one side. Edward on the other.

And Con—whether he liked it or not—at the center of both.

The war for power had already begun.

No one had bothered to declare it yet.

CHAPTER 19

The corridor grew darker as we neared Rene’s door. The sconces along the walls burned low, their light shivering across carved stone and portraits of former leaders staring down with ageless disapproval.

No one lingered here. Not anymore.

By the time we reached the entrance to Rene’s private suite, even Val’s confident stride had slowed. He and Quinn exchanged a brief look—the kind soldiers shared before a battle neither of them wanted.

“We’ll leave you here,” Val said quietly. “The fewer who know what state he’s in, the better.”

Con gave a curt nod. “Keep the corridors clear. No one comes near this door without my permission.”

Val inclined his head and turned away, Quinn falling into step beside him. Their footsteps faded into the gloom, leaving only the crackle of firelight from behind the heavy doors.

Con hesitated for a heartbeat, then lifted a hand and knocked once. The sound thudded dully, swallowed by the thick wood.