by SF Benson
What I’m planning has been needed for a long time. Luc is an arrogant vamp who must learn how little his influence means to everyone in this community—humans and supernaturals. If I ask around, I’m sure there are founding families who don’t support Luc Duquette.
Still maintaining a human form, I pace the polished dance floor of the Temptation Club as I wait for the other Council members to arrive. Only key individuals—Brady Romero, representing the various shifters of Falls Creek, and The Najex, representing Lilin—along with a handful of other important supernaturals are invited to this meeting.
What I’m about to propose might border on treason and initiate an uprising between those loyal to Luc and those in opposition, but rebellions and I are old friends. Insurrection was something lurking behind every column and pillar in Rome. Back then, I had the protection of other Praetorian Guards. The best I could do on short notice was to convince a couple of fallen angels to keep watch at the door in case Luc wanders by.
The demon prince of darkness, The Najex, barely waits for everyone to take a seat. Forever impatient, he asks, “What’s going on, Uraeleus?”
Stopping my frenetic movement, I face the incubus. His dark eyes lock with mine before I say in a gravelly voice, “Luc Duquette is what’s going on. It’s time we remove the asshole from office.”
“Interesting proposition,” Brady offers, stroking his beard. “But why now?”
Carefully, I weigh my words. This meeting, like everything else I’ll be doing over the course of this week, is calculated. Each action done and every word spoken must be draped in caution. Anything less and my plans culminating in an undetectable exit from this forsaken town will be derailed. Of course, I’ve made my mistakes—plenty of them. I won’t deny it, but Luc is not free from blame either.
“I intervened in a human life.” My gaze doesn’t waver. No show of weakness on my part. “The girl would have died had it not been for me.”
Gasps ricochet around the room as all eyes fall on me. Not a shock.
Shadows replace my hand as I raise it. Anger makes my pattern slowly retreat. Drawing in a deep breath, I force calm through my form, and the willowy wisps solidify. “No one’s more surprised than I am, but it’s not the point.”
The Najex, impeccably dressed in a black designer suit, looks at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “And what is your point, Uraeleus?”
“The entire time Luc chastised me, he wasn’t concerned for our community. His interest was only for the humans.”
Mouths slacken while eyes widen.
I have their attention. Might as well forge ahead and see where this takes me. “All of you know spirits and such can’t cross over unless our deaths are vindicated, or we do enough good deeds. Although my time has passed, Luc didn’t even consider I might want to cross. He was only concerned about humans possibly learning about us.”
Someone, sitting in the cover of darkness, says Luc’s concern is valid. My hands instantly fist. The coward better be glad I can’t see him.
Elsbeth, representing The Blue Moon Coven of Witches, runs a hand through her wine-colored, shoulder-length locks and says, “It’s not a secret Luc chooses the betterment of humans over supernaturals. We share the same town with them, but our problems are just as important.”
“My point exactly,” I say. “We need to do something about this situation. Keeping Luc in power will eventually render our community powerless.”
The Najex steeples his long fingers on the table and speaks in a menacing voice. “Are you certain your issue with Luc isn’t merely personal, Uraeleus? Why should we entangle ourselves in matters not concerning us?”
I’ve never kept my animosity toward Luc quiet, and I’m not about to start now. “All of you know how I feel about Luc, but I assure you that’s not the issue right now. If given the choice between standing up for us or for humans, Luc won’t choose correctly. The vamp holds on to his humanity as if he’s still one of them.”
“And who do you propose filling the position once he’s out?” asks The Najex.
“Not me,” I quickly answer. Leadership is something I’ve never been fond of. Besides, that requires someone who plans to remain in this damned town. “Look to the witches or the shifters. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck. Simply remove Luc Duquette from office.”
The Najex purses his lips and bobs his head up and down. “I will meet with Luc to discuss this matter. I’ll also bring in my nephew, Tiberius. He can serve as interim chair. It’s time he learned a little diplomacy.”
“With all due respect, he’s too young,” complains Brady. “We need someone who knows not only diplomacy, but also how things should work in Falls Creek.”
“If not my nephew…” The Najex exhales as he glances at his watch again. “Who would you suggest, Brady?”
This seems to be a good time to drop my own bombshell. It’s something I only considered half-heartedly last night, but now it seems like a perfect solution. “Why not give the job to Victor Duquette? He had the balls to challenge Council and stand up to Luc. I think he’ll do whatever is best for all of us.”
A scowl crosses the face of the incubus. “Victor and Tiberius are practically the same age.”
“Victor only looks young,” Brady counters. “He’s got at least twenty years on Tiberius.”
The Najex twists his mouth as if he’s sucking a lemon. He’s not a fan of Victor. After all, the young vamp did defile the succubus promised to his son, Colt. As I understand it the young girl is now a hybrid of succubus and vampire.
Minutes pass without any words spoken—only vagrant gazes flitting from one creature to the next. More time creeps past. Finally, the incubus splays his hands on the table and stands. “Fine. I’ll take it under consideration. Since you mentioned it, Brady, I’ll leave it to you to discuss the possibility with the young vampire. Report to me in twenty-four hours with his decision.” The Najex directs his attention to me. “Is there anything else, Uraeleus?”
“No.” As long as Council reconsiders Luc’s leadership, I’m satisfied. For now. “Meeting’s adjourned.”
Chairs scrape and screak across the wooden floor as everyone rises to their feet. Individual conversations, not concerning me, strike up around the room. I turn toward the exit when someone taps my shoulder. Whirling around, I see The Najex.
“We need to talk. In private.” He doesn’t wait for my reply. Instead, he pivots on his expensive heel and walks toward the room in the back of the club, leaving me no choice but to trail in his wake.
Inside the corner office, The Najex situates himself on the soft blue suede sofa as if it’s his throne. I start to sit beside him, consider the insanity of that decision, and choose one of the matching chairs instead.
He launches into his speech, not waiting for me to get comfortable. “Uraeleus, you’ve been around long enough to know what you can and can’t do in this town. I thought you understood why those rules, some existing well before Luc took over Council, were put into place. What exactly did you do for this human?”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I wish I could dematerialize.
Nonsense. Face the music like the man you once claimed to be.
“I stopped her from dying, and then I repaired her heart and brain.”
The Najex sighs heavily, offering me a stony expression. “You know you broke the rules. No question there. But those rules belong to Luc and don’t concern me.”
“I’m well-aware of our doctrine.” It’s the only thing I am sure of with this conversation. “If you think I want Luc off Council because of his rules, you’re wrong.”
“Am I?” The Najex lifts a bushy eyebrow. “If he hadn’t confronted you about said rules, you wouldn’t be here.”
Point taken.
Black, dead eyes regard me for a long, uncomfortable minute. A vagrant, cold smile tugs at The Najex’s thin lips. “Don’t get me wrong. I have no problem with why you want the arrogant ass off Council. I’ve never liked him. He flew into town, wa
nting to do things his way while disregarding how things have been in Falls Creek for centuries. That kind of behavior isn’t acceptable. There are beings in this town much older than Luc Duquette, you included, and I’ve listened to their complaints. No one wants Luc as head of Council.”
Good to know I wasn’t wrong.
The Najex clears his throat. “And although I don’t care for his little protégé, Victor, I’ll allow him to take Luc’s place. After all, it would be the perfect knife in the power-hungry vamp’s back.”
“Fine. If it’s settled, why did you need to talk to me?” The Najex never does anything not benefitting him. Our conversation makes me nervous.
“You have to get Victor to agree. Brady Romero may be an alpha, but he doesn’t own his balls. He’ll go to that bitch he hangs with, and she’ll talk him out of acting.” The Najex leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Brady will stall instead of going to Victor himself. Go see the kid now.”
Great. I unearthed this manure pit, which means I have to wade through The Najex’s shit or drop the matter all together.
“Fine.” My eyes flick toward the ceiling. “I’ll go. Is he still living up in the hills?”
“Yes.” The Najex leans back into the seat. “Tell him if he leads Council he can bring his little hybrid girlfriend back to town. They’d be able to live wherever they wanted.”
Good point.
An hour later, I’m standing in front of Victor’s house—a red brick, nineteenth-century structure with dual porches. As I journey up the paved walkway, the Dutch mahogany door swings open, and a tall, muscular man with piercing aquamarine eyes steps out. Despite being technically almost forty years old, Victor Duquette’s tight-fitting black shirt and black jeans, messy hair, and scowl make him look like a frustrated teenager.
“Can I help you?” Victor asks, his quiet voice full of tension.
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, I glance up. “My name’s Urae—”
“I know who you are,” Victor snaps. “Why are you here?”
“Think we could go inside and talk?”
Victor answers by sitting on the top stair. Well, he is a vampire. The crisp air probably doesn’t bother him. I shove my hands in my pockets and stand my ground, hoping my pattern doesn’t blow apart.
“If you have something to say, go ahead,” he prompts.
Yeah. Best get to it. Clearing my throat, I say, “I met with Council members earlier today. Your benefactor will be voted out. We want you to take his place.”
The young vamp flinches like I hit him. “Why is Luc out? What did he do wrong?”
“It’s more like what he won’t do. He doesn’t do anything to protect our community. It’s all about humans for him. Remember, when you needed him, he didn’t stand up for you and your girlfriend.”
“No.” Victor folds his arms over his chest. “If I recall, you were in a rush to judge against us. Called me a belly-aching scion.”
Shit. He would remember correctly. “Sorry about that. I had a reputation to uphold. No one knows me as being agreeable.”
“Yeah, I know.” Victor relaxes his posture a bit. “So why would you care about me taking Luc’s place?”
“Truth be told, this wasn’t my idea. The Najex wanted me to come here and secure your decision. He brought up a good point. If you’re the head of Council, no one can tell you where to live. You can bring the hybrid back to town.”
Victor doesn’t say a word, staring me down with those shifting, sea-colored eyes of his.
“Brady Romero will come by,” I add. “He’ll—”
“His girlfriend called me already,” Victor starts. “She claimed to speak on Brady’s behalf.”
Well, damn. I guess The Najex was right about who holds the Romero family jewels. “Listen, do whatever you think best, but I believe you’ll do a better job than Luc. You’d do the right thing for our community.”
Victor pushes to his feet. “Let me discuss it with Kelsie. If she’s good with it, I’ll consider it.” The vamp looks off into the distance. “You know, Luc won’t be happy about this.”
“I know.” It’s really too late to worry about Luc’s reaction.
“He’s going to fight back,” Victor adds.
“Probably.” Actually, I hope he comes out swinging. I’m looking forward to a good old-fashioned fight.
“I suggest you be prepared.”
“I will be.”
Luc won’t be my concern much longer. Not after this week.
CHAPTER SIX
Uraeleus
I’m optimistic Victor will take over Luc’s Council position. Deep down, the young vampire wants to do whatever’s right. As a human he was a good kid who was turned too early in life—a selfish request made by his mother after she was turned. She pleaded with Luc until he turned the boy.
Dumb asses.
Despite his parent’s inconsiderate action, the young vampire isn’t self-serving. Well… Maybe it’s a bit of a stretch. After all, he did turn the succubus he claims to love. It was an understandable mistake, and I don’t hold it against him. Victor will do what’s needed to protect the girl, which—I hope—will propel him to take the position.
Recruiting Victor isn’t my goal. Despite my disdain for this town, I care about its inhabitants. Beings like Cherina. They deserve a fair chance to exist in this world without worrying over some egotistical maniac.
Even with the cool breeze, it’s a decent night. For the first time in ages, I choose to maintain my form and walk. Doing so comes with a price—expending energy takes a considerable amount of time to replenish. But I’m feeling good for a change. There’s one thing I’ve learned in my existence—take the good whenever you can experience it. The sensation won’t last long.
The homes in this part of town are nice. Stopping on the sidewalk, I notice a two-story pale yellow house for sale. It’s one of those Arts & Crafts homes, all the rage in the 1920s, with arched front and side porches. Balconies and gables jut out from the second floor of the stucco structure. If I were in the market for a house, this would be worth investigating further.
My thoughts carry me back to another time and place—Rome during the reign of Augustus Caesar. For a fleeting moment, I had considered marriage and children with the only woman I loved—a beautiful female gladiator—Cordelia. We talked about me leaving the Guard and building a villa for us.
But we’re talking another lifetime. Time to move on.
Everything is progressing as planned. In all honesty, I could leave at any moment, but I can’t go until after Antoinette is discharged and Luc is replaced. I’m not sure where I’m headed, but I hear the West Coast might be a place to go. The agreeable weather would be good for my pattern, but it will take more than a little sunshine to change an abominable, old man like me.
As I walk down Winthrop Street, I begin yawning. Odd since I don’t get sleepy. An overwhelming heaviness in my limbs follows the involuntary action. Maybe I’ve spent too much time holding onto this body. Focusing is difficult, but I push past the fatigue and drag on.
Before I realize it, I’m in front of the hospital. The exhaustion has gotten worse. All want to do is lie down. Something is horribly, horribly wrong. Forcing my thoughts together, Antoinette comes to mind. Cherina mentioned a possible bond between me and the human. If I’m feeling this worn out, what is she going through?
Losing my form as I breach the walls of the building isn’t even an issue. Dwindling energy makes it too difficult to maintain. A cosmic force takes hold of my particles and drags me to where it wants me to be.
On Antoinette’s floor, medical staff rush in and out of her room. Crushing nausea, something I haven’t felt in centuries, settles on me. Where the hell did that come from? Bile courses through me with nowhere to go. Clutching my middle, I stumble through the door.
A nurse checks Antoinette’s vitals. The sickness I felt minutes ago dissipates, but the weariness lingers. As I draw closer, it’s her pallor that dis
turbs me.
What have you done? I wonder.
“Doctor Wesson, is there anything else you want?” the nurse asks.
The gray-haired man shakes his head. “There’s not much else we can do for her at the moment.” He pauses for a beat or two. “Go ahead and put in for a psych eval. See if Rogers is available. If not, I want someone skilled with young adults. Unfortunately, this is going to delay her discharge. Can’t have her going home attempting to kill herself.”
My shadowy hand rests on her face. Why would she want to kill herself? Maybe her action troubles me because I gave Antoinette a second chance, rescued her from the clutches of Death.
My finger traces the curve of her cheek. Perhaps the truth is deeper than I care to admit. Sadly, it’s not a psych evaluation that Antoinette needs. It won’t protect her. She needs someone by her side, keeping her safe.
I am sorry, Antoinette. You’re not committing suicide, not on my watch.
Staying put and relaxing is as foreign to me as the time Rome invaded Brittania, but Antoinette needs me here. With considerable effort, I materialize and take a seat. Watching her sleeping body makes me think of Cordelia for the second time tonight.
To be honest, I haven’t thought of my beloved for eons. Perhaps it’s the uncanny resemblance between Antoinette and Cordelia? The two women share the same deep-brown eyes, the same shade of sable hair… Even the shape of their noses is similar. It’s like I’m looking at a ghost, but that’s farfetched. In all my years, I have never crossed Cordelia’s spirit. I’m certain she had a successful home going.
Besides, if Cordelia returned today, the first thing she’d do is kick my ass. The thought makes me chuckle. Cordelia was always the better fighter.
I lay on the Coliseum’s dirt floor with pebbles scraping against my bare shoulders. Cordelia hovered over me with the blade of her gladius pointed at my neck. With my weapon flung to the side, surrendering was my only choice.
