Page 97
Story: Bonding Beasts
Mitri doesn’t answer. He hasn’t taken his eyes off my profile the entire time he speaks. I don’t know how he has all this information, but he’s right. Having all the variables before a conflict can only help me.
“The vampire?” I clear my throat to ask. The tension made my voice rough, and I reached for my glass of…. orange juice? I haven’t had that since I left the mansion.
“Ta-ament,” Mitri says and slides his hands over his weapons. It feels like a nervous gesture, which is odd enough to note.
“That Egyptian vampire? She’s only 200,” Mal scowls.
“She claims to be 200. I assure you; she is much older.”
“And again, you know this how?” Mal asks with a tiny snarl. I’m impressed that he’s held himself back for this long. He’s really making an effort.
“We had relations,” Mitri’s eyes meet Mal’s in some kind of bro-code, don’t bring this shit up again, sign.
I guess he has a thing for vampires? He did know exactly where the vamp club was. A promising sign for his libido. It's a bad sign for the little chick who looks and acts nothing like them.
“And the dragon halfling… what’s his name so I can place the face,” King waves a hand elegantly, breaking the tense stare off between them.
“He is known as Aron Enghdall now.”
The mood around the table turns very somber and tense.
“Even I have heard of him,” Ben’s lip curls in disgust.
Which means that Scilla would have heard as well. I could get with her for some information. Then again, she would just say no, and tell me to do it myself.
“Aren’t those two mated?” Kimi asks, and I find him staring off into the distance like part of him is here for the conversation, and the rest of him is off in la-la land.
“Yes,” Mal confirms grimly. “I thought he was just a mage.”
“And the immortal?” King carries on the bulk of the questions for me.
“Fyodor Makarov,” Mitri frowns as he says the name. How bad does a guy have to be forMitrito disapprove?
The rest of the group leans back like a bomb has gone off at the center, hoping the blast radius won’t reach them. That bad, huh?
“I witnessed his birth,” Mitri continues, and King spits out the drink of tea he just took all over his plate. “I should have killed his father before he had a chance to spawn. I was remiss. Fyodor did not fail in his father’s eyes.”
“He’s almost 2,000 years old,” Mal chokes out as he stares wide-eyed at Mitri.
“Is he?” Mitri asks nonchalantly and sips his coffee.
“A rapist and serial killer,” King snarls, leaning closer to Mitri threateningly. “Here? In our Territory? How!”
“Do you not find it odd that his crimes have gone unpunished simply because he chooses to focus solely on Humans now?” Mitri muses aloud with another sip.
That silences everyone at the table and makes me want to throw up. Isn’t this what the Delegates and TGT were made for? To keep things like this from happening? If I wasn’t pessimistic before, I certainly am now.
Andwhat the fuck???? Just how old is Mitri? I can’t picture him as a caveman, but it’s starting to sound like I should be on the lookout for clubs around the house.
“The hybrid can be killed, and the vamp,” Ben contemplates, apparently unconcerned with the dinosaur sitting beside me. “The immortal will be a problem.”
“So we’re back to just killing everyone now?” I ask him with a frown.
“Baby,” he looks at me with concern, “These aren’t the type of creatures you allow to live. Andyouarein the same Territory with them. They’re dinner. They just don’t know it yet.”
“That’s a good boy,” Kimi pats him on the head while Ben is distracted.
Ben knocks his arm away with a lip curl.
Table of Contents
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