by Holly Hook
Jeremy stands, not bothering to raise his hand. “I believe we should take a more bipartisan approach to this.”
“Such as?” Becky asks, not hiding her frown. It's clear where she sits on the political spectrum and it's not on Jeremy's side.
“I say we go into the meeting in pairs, so that we balance each other out,” he says, every word forceful and daring. “One party often forgets to even listen to the other. And Ava will want to hear a more experienced slant on the issues our newbies are bringing to the table.”
Becky screws up her face, and I claw at the bottom of my table.
“Oh. Yes,” Beatrice says, sweeping her nasty crow face over the five human panelists who remain. “We should do that. We're evenly split. That will work well.” She loves the idea of this newest power trip.
The pressure builds, and Becky slowly turns to face us all.
Is Jeremy going to ruin my plan? Will he talk over me in the meeting? Ava doesn't have as much power as Goodman, but she's still got some say.
“That might be a good idea,” Becky says. “I will have one vampire and one human go into each meeting with Ava. I'm sure that she won't mind.”
I know how this is going to turn out, and I'm livid as I rise from my chair and Becky tells us to pair up. Jeremy's next to me a moment later, agents in tow, grinning as Beatrice slowly stalks over to Silvia.
I'd buy Silvia a drink for this if we were both of legal age.
No one speaks as we all head down a stairwell rather than take an elevator. I feel like we human panelists are being paraded around so the politicians can see who they like and make their picks. Or see who won't make the cut and needs eliminating.
Shit, I think Jeremy is right about vampires turning people.
My stomach heaves as it really sinks in for the first time. Once we reach the first floor, we pass another panelist group, also a mix of human and vampire, who walk in another direction. Before I know it, we're at a closed door labeled Ava Warrington, Senate Minority Leader, Heart Party.
Becky knocks. “The Young Activists' Housing Panel is here.” Then she rubs her eyes and looks away from us as if she's ashamed.
“Excellent,” a woman with a razor voice says from inside. “One at a time, please.”
I want to see if anyone could become my heir. Or a problem. The undertone is there.
“Actually,” Jeremy says, “we are coming in pairs to save some time.”
A pause follows on the other side of the door. “Oh.”
Maybe this meeting won't be horrible after all? Jeremy could be doing this to protect me from being chosen for death, or chosen to become what I hate. He's going in as a distraction.
I'll go with that.
We enter, and find Senator Warrington waiting for us, dressed in a lavender suit that accents all of her curves. Her eyes are the brightest hazel I've seen, and the red lines in her eyes make me think of that polished Tiger's Eye necklace Mike got me for my twelfth birthday. Only, there’s no warmth there. Like the other vampires, she’s a living magazine model.
“Greetings,” she says, motioning for me to sit. There's only one chair directly facing her, so I take it as Jeremy and his agents hover over me. “And you are?”
Yeah. This feels like a job interview.
“Ember Vonk,” I say.
Be the predator. If I can face down Goodman, I can handle Ava. Right now, I just need to stay alive. And then what?
“Why are you here today?”
I take a breath, glad I've told my story so many times that I no longer stumble over my words. I give Ava my spiel, and expect Jeremy to interrupt, but to my shock, he doesn't. “FHDA doesn't seem to want to cut off Dream Developers,” I say as Ava watches with a straight face. “They have no rules about how to deal with companies like them.”
“Ah. That is unfortunate,” she says. “The FHDA should be on the side of the vulnerable. They are hurting voters.” She lifts a pen to take notes.
I'll take that. But then Jeremy has to open his mouth.
“Tighter regulations will cause more problems than they solve,” he says. “Money talks. Reducing funding to the FHDA until they clean up the bad actors is the way to go, since companies can find legal loopholes all the time.”
I grip the arm of my chair.
What the hell?
Jeremy is arguing on my side?
Of course, it's probably so he can stick to his party line, but Senator Warrington snaps her stare up to the First Son. Heavy silence falls over the office. “We cannot defund the FHDA. That would harm millions of voters.”
That would piss off my voters. That's what she means. Ava is no better than Goodman. Her evil comes in vanilla rather than chocolate.
I want to slap my forehead, but since that wouldn't be professional, I keep sitting there.
“Jeremy,” Ava says, dropping her pen. “Do you like your position?” She turns her hard gaze up at him, despite his agents.
I tense, reading the threat in her voice.
Jeremy stands there as his agents draw close behind him. Apparently, they consider other vampires to be threats, too. And I don't blame them. Even vampires get killed by their own.
“Of course I do,” he says, throwing his shoulders back with grace. “But money talks. I believe we all know that.” He grins despite the threat.
“But do you like where you are?” Ava leans forward. She flicks her gaze to me and then back to him. What? Do I have something to do with how she's treating him?
“Someone needs to show these inexperienced activists how it's done,” he says without a flaw.
Ava just nods. “True. But just so you know, radical ideas can get one into deep trouble. We've never defunded an entire agency over the funding of one dangerous company. Surely you understand.”
I dig my fingernails into the poor chair.
Ava might not be any more help than Goodman.
And is she threatening Jeremy?
I think of him meeting me by the water fountain. What do you know? Is he in danger, too?
I want to defend him, but that could make his situation worse.
“Oh, I understand,” he says, all cool. “We wouldn't want any major disruptions. But you know I stand for fewer rules and more opportunities.”
Ava nods as if she accepts that answer. Then she faces me. “Thank you for your story. Let the next activist come in and have a good night.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I don't utter a word as Jeremy, his two agents, and I leave the office. We head back to the day's war room, where we're supposed to discuss the meeting afterwards. I walk with my head hanging low, trying to give the impression that Jeremy royally screwed over my spiel. Because that's what the other vampires think this is. Only when we round the corner and the prickle of Beatrice’s stare lift off the back of my neck do I dare to speak.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper as I press the button for the elevator.
Jeremy and his two agents remain silent as we step inside.
Only when the elevator doors close does Jeremy speak.
“We need to meet somewhere less public. That didn't work the way I thought.”
The other Jeremy is back now that he's out of the public eye. “No shit. She threatened you.” The elevator dings as it rises. I have questions. Lots of questions. And not least among them is who the hell are you, really?
If he's not President Haywood's biological son, then where did Jeremy come from?
And is there a bit of human left in him?
Jeremy looks at the vampire agent. “Start making plans.”
“Plans?” I ask. Is he going to give me some more answers? “Why not tell me now? Why take me somewhere else?”
“Do you want to know the full scope of what you're dealing with, or not?” he snaps.
“Wow. You have anger issues,” I say.
Jeremy just hikes up his shoulders. Despite that, I tingle and heat all over. The tips of his fangs are visible, but that only adds to that
dark angel image.
The vampire agent nods to Jeremy, ignoring me. “We need the time and the place, and at least four hours' notice to ensure your safety there. The schedule will be tight, as dawn is shortly after that. You cannot afford the sickness that daylight brings. It is far more dangerous than you believe.”
Jeremy just nods. “We can go to Talia's. They have a private, secure room.”
“Roger that,” the vampire says.
“Thank you, Nathan. Don't mention that Ember will be with me. Not until we sort this out.”
“Her safety is just as much a concern of mine as yours is, sir.”
The elevator door opens. And I can't breathe.
What the hell is going on now?
I want to ask Jeremy if he needs four hours' notice to do anything, just to lighten the mood. But I'm glad this Nathan vampire is on a first name basis with him.
Maybe they're not all monsters?
He leans close and whispers, “be ready for the cab outside your apartment at three-thirty. And dress well.”
* * * * *
Our group spends the next two hours meeting with two Heart Party reps over at the House building, which is basically across the Capitol grounds, and neither of those escalate into anything scary. Becky has us all go in as a group for them both, and one rep, Mitchell Coffey from Arizona, is human. Out of everyone we've spoken with that night, he's the first who seems truly concerned about Homes For Life.
But I doubt he has much power. He's probably a token human, so the rest of society thinks they also can rise to the top.
Becky dismisses us all after those two meetings, and it's two AM at that point. Though I'm getting more used to staying up, my eyes burn as we all leave the House building and wait for our cabs out front. Jeremy sticks with the vampires this time, and he doesn't look at me at all. Neither do the agents, who escort him to the SUV that's already parked on the side of the road and guarded by two more agents.
Once Silvia and I are back at the apartment, I stash my phone in my dresser—turning it off frequently will look suspicious to whoever is monitoring us—and Silvia leaves hers in her living room with the TV on. We meet in my new kitchen, and I want to make myself a coffee just to focus on something. But I hold back, determined not to let my nerves get to me.
“Jeremy wants me to meet him at three-thirty,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “Are you serious? He was being an asshole to you the entire time today. His idea made it so that Beatrice just blew my ideas out of the water, and I had to go with her flow.” She paces around the room and I can tell she's pissed.
I forgot she had to face Senator Warrington with Beatrice. Silvia went in at a disadvantage, especially since those two are in the same party. “I think he was just pretending, and it caught everyone up in the crossfire. Including him.”
“That looked real to me.” She stares right at me like I'm crazy. “I know we need an answer on how to get out of this before they decide who gets to turn us, or worse, but Jeremy is the First Son. He's probably here to help them pick who to turn.”
Somehow, I don't think so, but Silvia is making me wonder if I'm crazy. “We don't have any other options right now. And we're already trapped.”
Silvia's gaze darts around the room. “Well, I'm putting my foot down. We need to leave our phones here, make them think we're being good little prisoners, and get flights out of dodge as soon as the sun rises.”
I know Silvia is trying to be the one to save us, to tell us there's a way out. But I've thought of that. “They can track our credit cards, which they issued us, and we don't have cash.”
Watching her chin quiver as she slumps her shoulders is one of the worst things in the world. Silvia adjusts her nose ring and paces again. “Ember, you shouldn't have to do this.”
I've seen this helplessness before, and the pressure settles on my shoulders.
If I'm a eugenicist for wanting a future, maybe I should leave this house.
Mike, you are no longer our son. So be it.
I swallow, determined not to let Silvia see my own personal storm. “There's more to Jeremy than it seems. I'll come back from this meeting alive. I promise.”
* * * * *
I wait inside the apartment lobby for the cab, of course, behind the armed guards. I’m dressed well now, but any vampire can try to break the rules in the shadows.
And the cab, a sleek black Mercedes, glides up to the curb exactly at three-thirty. Though the vehicle is classy and the back windows have a nice tint, I can see inside a bit. There's a driver in a suit and fancy hat inside, and he motions for me to approach with a gloved hand.
I gulp, not sure how to feel, but I get into the back of the limo. No one else is inside and the driver is a human male. I'll be riding to this restaurant alone to meet the First Son with only his security looking on. We'll be in a private room. And that means I'll be alone with a vampire and one of the most high-profile politicians in the country, if not the world. Again.
Don't throw up.
“Good evening,” the driver tells me in a pleasant tone.
“Thank you?” With a purr, the Mercedes pulls away from the curb.
I'm more confused than ever as we roll through the city. But we don't go far and soon stop in front of another fancy restaurant labeled Talia's. I can't tell what type of place it is beyond that it's a suit and tie affair, because there's a doorman who, despite also being human, has his nose inclined ever so slightly into the air. I look down to confirm that I'm in a black skirt and the fanciest blouse that Becky ordered for me. I hope that's good enough, but I'm having my doubts. Inside, women in evening dresses are dining with—or sipping blood with—men in suits as they sit under fancy chandeliers. Clearly most of the patrons won't be mortal at this time of the night.
He lets me out and waits for me to walk up to the door. The suited guy lifts his nose ever higher with each step I take.
“My name is Ember Vonk,” I say, half-hoping that I don't pass the test.
“And your party?” the man asks, doubt filling his voice. I'm willing to bet that the only humans here at this time of night are typically the waitstaff and blood bags who are looking for cash.
I gulp. “Jeremy Haywood.”
The man studies me as he opens the glass door, and the cab pulls away. But he doesn't ask questions. The deeper I get into this mess, the more I want to wrangle answers out of Jeremy himself. But he's got the advantage here. For all I know, he wants blood, and possibly more, in exchange for them, and I will not become a blood bag for anyone.
A server in a white suit and bow tie greets me, and takes my information with a smile. “Oh. Yes. You will be in Private Dining Room Two. This way, please.” He's got faint, white bite scars on his neck, but since the guy must push sixty, the female vampires probably haven't had the urge to bite him for a while. Business must be suffering.
I sense the stares of the vampires in the long, narrow dining area that probably serves fine dishes during daytime hours. There are maybe a dozen here, probably relaxing after work or taking late lunches. Any staffers or lawmakers? Shit, this is dangerous. Then again, everywhere is dangerous in this city after dark. The whole place seems to be silent, and I can't get into the private dining room fast enough.
The server opens the door on the side of the room for me, and when I step inside, I freeze.
There's a single long table set up in the middle of the carpeted room, and two chandeliers light the windowless space. The walls are a warm cream color and a white tablecloth sparkles under the light. In the middle of the arrangement sits a few blood bottles, tinted green, and there's a plate ready with fine silverware at one end.
The server closes the door behind me, shutting me inside.
“You could have dressed better,” Jeremy says at the other end of the table.
Shit. How did I not notice him in that navy blue suit and with that hair swept over to one side? He's smirking at me, but his eyes are so serious that I'm not sure what t
o think. God, could he get any more sexy?
“This is what I have,” I say simply, aware that Nathan and the human agent are standing on either side of the door, right behind me. The vampire sniffs, probably for any weapons I might be carrying. If I bring so much as a nail clipper in here, I'd be dead in no time.
Please, Ember, watch your attitude. Don't be an idiot, like you normally are.
“I bet you drew some stares,” he says.
I grit my teeth. “That's because I'm the only human guest in this place.”
Jeremy's face is neutral as he continues to sit there. “I bet they thought you were a blood bag. They wander into these places sometimes.”
My cheeks flush. “Do you always have to get on my nerves? What is with you?” Shit, maybe that is where this is going.
But my anger doesn't faze him. Jeremy motions for me to sit on the other end of the table, so that we'll be facing each other.
I hesitate. “You brought me here to mock me.”
Then he snorts, and even that's graceful somehow. “Ember, look at this setup. Do you see a pillory here with people ready to throw eggs at your head? An audience? Put the pieces together. What do you think this is?”
I smell food, delicious food, that must be under a lidded platter that I just realize is on the table, near my plate. It's a scene that I'd see in the movies. Couples in movies always end up going to fancy places like this, even though it's not realistic for ninety-nine percent of us.
Is Jeremy trying to imply that this is a dinner date?
My heart hammers and my entire body tingles at the thought. But no. Get a grip. It's too good to be true. I've got to settle with the most logical, most likely explanation. “Emotional blackmail?” He's trying to guilt me into whatever trap he has planned, isn't he?
“Then it's expensive emotional blackmail,” Jeremy says, as if he expected this answer. “You know, my father doesn't make that much money. The First Family has to pay for their own food. If you want to make good money, rope in candidates for either turning or elimination, like Zara did. From what I understand, it's thirty thousand per head, paid for by a secret Congressional fund and your tax dollars.”
