by Aya DeAniege
“It’s time he lost face. He has an heir, he’s looking to get out, push the heir, darn it. And you two, you just need to make your intents clear and you, Mr. Abraham, sir, do not get to pout about it. You’ve enjoyed Peter’s company long enough.”
“What?” Blane snapped, turning his scowl to Abraham. “You’ve been doing what to Peter?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peter snapped, turning to Blane. “I didn’t realize I need your permission to have sex.”
Blane reached out and grabbed Peter with both hands. He dragged the Alpha close and kissed him. I saw the movement of tongue, how Peter resisted at first, then relaxed, giving in, his hands moving up as if without thought to eventually grip Blane’s arms.
I had to drag my eyes away and avert my gaze. Abraham had done the same thing, he almost seemed startled. A flush of embarrassment came over him as the kiss lingered and seemed to take far too long. I wanted to clear my throat, but I swallowed at the thought.
Sighing out silently, I turned my gaze to my lap.
It was a good ten minutes of that. Of them kissing and Abraham and I awkwardly looking around the room, trying not to seem too interested. I was worried that if we said something, one of them might lash out. At the same time, I was a little worried that if we said nothing, they’d end up taking it to the next level and I did not want to be there for that.
The kiss ended with a bit of a smack sound. At that, I dared to look back. Peter and Blane sat with their foreheads together, gazing at one another.
“In order to not undermine your power—” I started.
“What was that?” Blane asked in a bored tone as he turned to me.
“In order to not undermine your power,” I said a little louder. “We need to come up with a way for this to seem like you brought Peter over, and that Abraham didn’t give him over or encourage it. Preferably a way that doesn’t result in you two fighting for the rest of your lives. How do we make that happen?”
Blane separated from Peter, putting distance between them even.
“Right, that old bone.”
“We can do this and cause the fight,” I said. “But, we’ve had a lot of stories like that. Of long separation for the cause. We should just fix that, end it now. There should be exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, it should all be about happiness. About living a full life with the one you want to live with.”
“I agree,” Abraham said. “But how do we do this?”
“Most the country knows of Blane and I,” Peter said, his eyes on his knee as he shook his head gently. “We took to the field together, fought alongside one another.”
“The example we used for the War Brats functioning as a unit,” Abraham said, cocking up an eyebrow as he seemed to consider. “It could work.”
“What could work?” Blane asked.
“You doing your thing and me simply stating the obvious,” Abraham said. “Are any of us really surprised by this? Really? Surprised that Peter, after Polly’s death, decided that he no longer wanted to be separated from his love? I don’t think so.”
I glanced at Blane. He seemed to consider.
“Who will take over your team, though?” he asked. “Because after this, Peter couldn’t serve as the lead.”
“That’s true, but I’ve made plenty of money,” Peter said. “I’ve been investing everything. I don’t need to work anymore.”
“I didn’t mean that you need a new job,” Blane said. “I meant it would leave Abraham floundering.”
“No, I’ve had my replacement trained for years,” Peter said. “I’ve been good to go. I had to be.”
“It’s settled then,” Abraham said. “You do your thing, I’ll do my thing and, at the end of the night, we’ll celebrate by spit roasting Peter here.”
“No,” Blane said.
“We’ll take turns with him?”
“No.”
“Just a little oral?”
“For the love of the Mothers, Abraham, no!”
Abraham shrugged.
“It was worth a shot. Do we have anything else that we need to discuss as a group?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said.
“Good, because I’ve given Theo and Penelope far too long to deal with their problem. Rebecca, if you’d kindly leave, I need to speak with the newly, whatever they would be called, couple.”
I glanced at Blane, then back to Abraham, not understanding what he meant. With a little shrug, I stood and left the room. Theo and Penelope were standing on the other side of the door, bickering once more. It was a hissing fight that involved jabbing one another in the shoulder and making grand motions.
The moment they saw me, they stopped talking and suddenly found the ceiling interesting.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were talking about me.
I tried to shrug off the feeling. I tried to, that was the key term there. It was hard to ignore the signs I was seeing, of them talking and then stopping whenever they spotted me. I just didn’t know why they were talking about me, or what they were talking about.
Giving myself a real, physical shake, I walked around them as if I hadn’t a care in the world.
The Doms would be there in less than seven hours, and I had to get dressed and ready to go. Although, I wasn’t entirely certain what Rachel meant by that.
Or why she grimaced like it involved plucking, nail polish, and hair dressing.
Chapter Nineteen
Rachel had looked like that because it did mean plucking, nail polish, hair styling, a pantsuit that didn’t feel right, and comments on how we looked too much like we were about to be raped.
Not because we were dressed wrong, but because every time they plucked or tugged on our hair, we winced. I didn’t understand the comments, and didn’t like them, but kept my mouth shut.
Rachel ended up clocking one of the ones doing the work, which made him run out crying. An angry Alpha took his place.
Until he saw who his companion had been working on and heard what they had been saying to us. He just gulped, walked out and returned with the companion who was suddenly very apologetic.
That same Alpha sat in with us as we were brought wine and watched us get ready in silence. He said nothing, but he did notice that we went through a whole bottle.
Rachel giggled like she was drunk, so I went along with her.
The moment they left us, Rachel suddenly sobered right up.
“That was a Dom,” she hissed at me.
“Supports Blane, or not?”
“I don’t think so,” Rachel said. “I don’t think anyone really supports anyone at the moment. They’re all just kind of all over the place. Waiting to see how the chips fall.”
I picked up the wine bottle and looked over the label. In the tiniest letters on the side it said non-alcoholic. Trust Blane to slip that in there. I pointed out the label to Rachel, then set the wine bottle back where it belonged.
“Great, paranoid suspicions are a great way to build a nation,” I said.
“I know, oh so great, right?” she asked. “Come on. We have to get to the room before they do because they’ll be wandering the hallways and looking for victims, that’d be us. Sometimes Alphas provide entertainment for their guests in the form of such victims, which the Alphas are supposed to take advantage of, but they’re all dressed a certain way and, I don’t know. Apparently, they just do it sometimes when they’re going to clear the household anyhow?”
“You mean, we’re the twins they’re after, and they might decide to attack us?” I asked.
“That’s very possible,” she said.
I sighed and shook my head. “Then lead the way.”
Rachel took me through the hallways, tugging me suddenly here and there when we heard a sound around the corner. We entered a large ballroom, which I felt like I had been in before. Gold and marble everywhere. I turned to Rachel, not quite understanding.
“The masquerade was held here,” she said. “I tried to tell Blan
e we should have it some place else, but it seems that Alphas always do things in one room, to keep the others from figuring out the blueprint on their own. So, here we are.”
“Oh,” I said, looking around.
Bits came floating back. I had been told that it would take time to remember things, and even then not all would come back. Which I thought was confusing therapist speak for, ‘shut up and stop asking.’
I recalled tables all along the sides. This time, the tables were in the middle of the room, long and six in total. There were several seats at each table. I looked over the tables and frowned, not understanding the number.
“How many Doms does he have?”
“Fourteen in total,” Blane said from behind us.
I turned, looking up the steps of the ballroom. Blane walked down them, toward us, in a three-piece suit. He was freshly washed and shaved, and looked very much like I had expected an Alpha to look. Sharp and defiant.
“Let me be clear, Rebecca, as I was with Rachel. Here? In this room? I am your lord and master. You obey me above all others.”
Suck it.
I wanted to say the words, but I didn’t. I bit them back, almost biting my own tongue in the process, and tried to relax.
“Very well,” I managed to get out.
“I wanted you two here early to look the place over, get accustomed to it. The tables are for my Doms. You two, I want you seated on the stairs here, preferably looking annoyed. Gerrid will be with Rebecca, as a warning to others. The Doms will take the tables with their first and seconds. Every Dom has a first and a second. Only the Doms will have a vote.”
Blane motioned to where he stood, several steps above the floor.
“I stay here. The Doms approach and kneel. They offer their hand up and I take them and raise them up. Then they sit down there. The only one to not sit down there is Rachel, for obvious reasons. The Doms might attack her. No Morgan because he’s drinking with Matt, but also to allow Rachel to stand on her own, as a Dom.”
“When do I enter?” Rachel asked.
“You don’t, you stay on the steps.”
“But don’t I have to be accepted like the others?” she asked.
Blane considered that, then shrugged just a little. “Frankly, I don’t care what they think of the motion.”
“There’s a thing, under the steps,” I said. “I remember being there. Rachel can stay under the steps and come out then kneel and then take her place behind you on the steps.”
“I like that idea, actually,” Blane said.
“I’ll just, uh, head that way, then,” Rachel muttered with a finger motion.
I stood watching Blane as he smiled wryly. He glanced past me, to the door, then took in a small, annoyed breath.
“Gerrid,” Blane said.
“Blane,” Gerrid said as he wrapped his arms around me. “Rebecca.”
“Gerrid,” I said. “Feel like we should be saying ‘Alpha’ a bunch and shaking hands.”
“It’s a friendly greeting,” Blane said. “Anything else and I’d stab him in the eyes for touching you like that.”
“Oh,” I said in a slightly higher pitch than I normally did. “Let’s not do that, that would be a silly thing.”
“Go sit down before someone comes,” Blane said with an exasperated sigh.
I slipped past him with Gerrid following close behind. About four steps behind Blane, I sat down and looked out over the door. Gerrid settled beside me and leaned back, with his feet dangling down, to the step just behind Blane. The motion made Blane turn and glare at Gerrid.
“We should move further up,” Gerrid muttered as he dragged his feet up and stood.
We went up another four steps, then sat as we had before. Blane watched us go, then gave a small, satisfied nod. He turned back to the doors and waited patiently.
One by one, the Doms entered. Their first and second hung back on the steps, watching as their Dom ascended, then knelt awkwardly on the steps, trying not to lose his balance. They took their seats with the first sitting nearest the back, and filling the tables forward. No one moved, spoke, or so much as flinched as the others entered. When the last table was filled, Daniella entered, nose in the air.
The female Alpha looked like Blane. They had their differences, but they were very similar.
She knelt for Blane, then sat at his feet. I didn’t see the look on her face, because her back was to me, but I saw several of the other Doms glance at one another. There was a very annoyed sort of look that they shared. Like they had known that obviously Daniella would support Blane.
For being a bunch of grown men who probably didn’t attend the standard high school, the Doms were awfully catty. Like a bunch of teenaged girls, that kind of catty.
And then Rachel came out from under the steps and the Alphas went still once more. They all turned to her and watched as she walked around the steps and knelt for Blane. He pulled her up and motioned up and back, so up and back she went.
Rachel sat two steps below Gerrid and I.
As she sat, Abraham and Peter entered. It was all very well coordinated, as if they had little earpieces that told them when to walk in and what to do.
If they have earpieces, I’m going to be super angry.
Abraham strolled between the tables, looking everyone over, then walked up the steps and stood beside Blane, hands in his pockets.
“I’m sorry, I was here. I thought I’d pop in and see what was going on,” Abraham said. “Now, if we could all—Peter?”
As Abraham had walked up the steps, Peter had slipped to one of the tables at the back.
And as Abraham had spoken, Peter had yanked an Alpha up from his seat and the Alpha arched like he got pricked in an unpleasant spot. Peter released the Alpha, who collapsed to the floor as Peter watched him go. Then Peter looked up at the first and second in a bored sort of fashion.
The two had been halfway out of their seats as Peter had grabbed their Dom, but upon seeing the look on his face, they thought better of it and sunk back down.
It was just that fast. No warning, and nothing else could be said on the matter. I was too far away to tell if the Dom had been stabbed, or had been hurt in some other, bloodless manner.
“I will find a replacement,” Blane said.
Every Alpha in the ballroom turned, not to Blane, but to Abraham.
“Really?” Abraham asked. “We’re surprised by this? Why are you looking at me? I didn’t ask Peter to do that. I would have ripped out his throat with my own hands. Blane, did you ask Peter to do that?”
“I did,” Blane said.
There was an actual, audible gasp.
I should point out that Blane and Abraham were terrible actors. It was obvious that their little routine was planned out from the tone of their voices, but the Alphas ate it up. Like there was no way that the two of them, in the minds of the Doms, would be planning such a thing together.
“Huh,” Abraham said, silent for a moment. “A letter of resignation would have sufficed, Peter.”
“This was more fun,” Peter responded as he stood in front of the door, right in the middle of it.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and looked over the tables of Alphas, who weren’t quite certain where they should be looking.
At Peter, who was clearly a threat, or at Blane, who clearly wanted their attention. Finally, they all turned to Blane.
Who responded to their looks by strolling down the steps, hands clasped behind his back.
“The night before last, my estate was attacked. You all saw the damage to the front as you came in. You are all here because of the invitation I sent you. Alphas were allowed into my territory who wished me ill. They were allowed to gather. They were given arms, guns. They brought guns into my home.”
The last sentence was bellowed, and the Alphas present flinched.
“Who sold them the guns?” Daniella snapped out.
“I’d give you three guesses, except Peter has already shivved the man,�
�� Blane said to the Doms before him, not to Daniella. “Guns, gentlemen. Guns were brought into my home, pointed at women I was guarding. Oh, and Daniella?”
“Yes, Master?”
“Penelope was shot and didn’t tell you,” Blane said.
The sound Daniella made had several of the Alphas up and looking to the door. Except Peter was there, in that at-ease position, staring up at Blane. I read it as some kind of threat, him being there, blocking the entrance.
Daniella had looked like she was about to raise up and snap at them, but she settled her backside onto that step and made a point of staying still.
“So,” Blane said, looking over one set of tables, then the other. “Which of yeh is cowardly enough to attack an unarmed woman?”
I leaned toward Gerrid.
“Yeh?” I whispered.
“Ah, it’s a go fuck your fucking self in the polite, present form,” Gerrid whispered back quickly.
The whisper caused Blane to turn toward us, looking up. He stared for a moment, then turned back to those present.
“Do you… you all… see what is sitting on my steps? Hey? Look at those women. Do you see them? Gerrid. Get down here.”
Gerrid gulped.
That’s not a part of the plan.
But then, Blane had pointed out that he hadn’t told us the full plan because Rachel liked to go off script. The best way to keep control of the situation was likely to tell her nothing at all.
Gerrid walked down the steps and moved to Blane’s side.
“Yes, Blane?” he asked.
“Rebecca, he’s not using my title because he’s not a follower of my land.”
“Thank you, Blane,” I called down.
Because that was exactly what I had been wondering right then. It was like Blane had had to explain Alpha behaviour in the past to normal people. The new rules were hard to follow unless one interacted with them. Owen had made everyone, visitors and normal, all talk to him exactly the same way.
“Gerrid, explain about Rebecca’s children.”
I almost flew down the steps to hit Blane, because they wouldn’t even discuss my children with me.
