Page 3 of A Token of Blood and Betrayal (Kennedy Rain #4)

Jared opened the envelope. He unfolded the page inside. He said, “I need you to approve these sanctioned vampires.”

Deagan really needed to wake up now because I was about to murder his master. “No.”

“I understand your objections—”

“If you understood my objections, you wouldn’t have thought about creating a list.”

A muscle in his face twitched, probably because he was so rarely interrupted. I wasn’t one of his underlings though. I would not do his bidding or let him push me around.

“My control of the compound is tenuous,” he said. “Arcuro’s closest vampires oppose me. Malachi opposes me. Am I not a better alternative?”

“That depends on what you decide to do with your power. If you want to follow in your predecessor’s footsteps? If you choose to forget the countless conversations we’ve had about my refusing to sign any sanctioned list? Then you should leave. Now.”

“You may cross off names,” he said smoothly. “You may add them. The power is yours.”

“You just need everyone to think it’s yours.”

“Yes.”

He stood there so calm, so composed, so unfreaking perturbed by my objections.

He wasn’t as old as Arcuro, but he’d spent the past century as his enforcer.

He’d killed and tortured and cut off all human emotions.

Until he met Nora. She had made him feel again, but she hadn’t erased his shroud of power and arrogance.

“I need this, Kennedy,” he said. “I will never ask it of you again.”

“You mean you won’t ask until the next emergency.

” I was trying so damn hard to help the vampires and werewolves—to help all paranorms—but it was like climbing a mountain sculpted from broken glass.

Every time I made progress, a piece broke off.

I slipped and fell and ended up back where I started, only now with deeper cuts and darker bruises.

“I won’t sign it,” I said.

Another twitch of that muscle beneath his eye.

“Vampires have not been granted access to the Null in almost three months. They want a renewal of the previous arrangement. The person who ensures that happens will be recognized as the compound’s new master.

They will control Arcuro’s territory. I am asking for your signature. Others will take it by force.”

“She’s not going to sign it,” Nora said, watching us with folded arms, one shoulder leaning against the wall. If I’d tried that casual pose, I would have looked like a droopy basset hound. She, of course, looked like a sleek and beautiful—

Wait a second. What had she said? Was she actually agreeing with me?

A few months ago, we couldn’t even agree on the color of a bridesmaid’s dress—it had been orange, not sunset—and our middle and high school collisions had been legendary.

We’d been insta-enemies, the alpha’s daughter versus the untouchable Rain girl.

Nora had expected deference. I hadn’t given it.

Our relationship had shifted recently. We’d developed a mutual respect for one another.

“She’s too stubborn and selfish to do the right thing,” Nora said.

Semimutual respect.

“I’m thinking about the bigger picture,” I said. “The future. You’re both thinking about what will strengthen him now. In this moment.”

“You allowed werewolves to stay,” Jared said.

“Only the ones who signed my guest list.”

“A technicality that few have heard and fewer still believe.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “In the future, when my position is secured, we can discuss a new arrangement.”

A vampire’s definition of the future was vastly different from a human’s. Our “discussion” might take place in one or two weeks. Or it could be twenty to thirty more years from now.

“Look,” I said. “If you need me to recognize you, I will. If you want me to make a statement against Malachi or anyone else who claims the compound, I’d love to. I’ll do what I can to help you, but I won’t give you control over who does and does not have access to The Rain.”

“I am attempting to avoid bloodshed,” Jared said, his tone still smooth and civilized.

“Is that not what you prefer? If I am not the compound’s master, if you do not sign”—he took one step toward me, and without any trace of magic, the air around us grew colder, the sharp planes of his face turning dark and lethal—“I will have to become something you will not like.”

He’d become Arcuro’s monster again, the merciless killer vampires feared.

“You don’t have to become anything.” Nora’s words were quick and sharp. Alarmed. “You have a century of brutality behind you already.”

“With Arcuro gone, I will be tested.”

“Then kill those who actively oppose you. It doesn’t have to go beyond that.”

“That is not how vampires secure power.”

“The last time you embraced being a vampire, Deagan couldn’t bring you back—he’s in no condition to even try it now—and I swore I’d never tolerate that part of you again.”

Nora’s words, her promise, splattered Jared’s violent history across the present in vivid and horrific strokes.

I didn’t know the full story of how they fell for each other, but for decades, Jared had embraced his job as Arcuro’s enforcer.

He’d thrived on the terror and pain he’d caused until one day he didn’t.

Deagan said he’d become detached, just as dispassionate about cruelty as he was about compassion.

The emotional void consumed his work, his life, everything—until he met Nora.

“I must be recognized as Arcuro’s replacement,” Jared said. “If I am not, you will never be safe.”

“I don’t need your protection.” Nora’s glare turned icy enough to cause frostbite. “I take care of myself.”

He moved toward her. “One-on-one, yes. With a pack to back you up, yes. But, Nora. You are my weakness. My enemies will target you.”

This had to be how she fell for him, these rare, intimate moments when his mask of indifference crumbled, revealing a man capable of epic devotion and love.

Guilt stabbed between my ribs. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt like the villain in their story. I was the outside source threatening their relationship and their lives. But if I signed Jared’s list, I’d be contributing to the corrupt hierarchy I was determined to destroy.

The paranormal world wasn’t set up for neutrality or fairness.

That was one reason I’d left home before college.

I’d tried to make things better before then, but I hadn’t had the power to force anyone to listen.

Now I did, and if I caved once, the paranorms would expect me to cave again.

I couldn’t give them what they wanted. They would have to find a way to wrap their minds around this new normal.

“Tell the vampires to call The Rain,” I said. “Tell them to ask for a room.”

I wasn’t sure whether either of them had heard me, not until they finally turned away from each other to stare in my direction.

Jared’s brow dipped ever so slightly. “You want the vampires to call you in order to be sanctioned?”

“This has nothing to do with them being sanctioned,” I said. “I want to know how old they are and whose clan they belong to. I want to know where they came from, why they should be allowed to stay.” As an afterthought and since I was on a roll, I added, “I also want references.”

They both continued to stare, Jared with his signature carved-stone expression, Nora with her left eyebrow slightly raised.

“I will tell you what you wish to know.” Jared made the statement as if it was the obvious and inevitable solution.

I huffed out a laugh and shook my head. “Okay. Let’s try it. First person on your list. Why should they get a room at The Rain?”

He blinked. Then he looked down at his list. He didn’t remember the name, probably didn’t know if they were Aged, depressed and desperate, or if they had a history of violence.

“Let me help you out,” I said. “He or she belongs to a master vampire who is an enemy of your enemy. Ensuring entrance to The Rain for one or more of their vampires will increase the tension between the two clans, hopefully enough for them to attempt to eradicate each other. They’ll both be weakened. You’ll be strengthened.”

Jared’s jaw clenched, basically confirming I was right. It wasn’t a hard guess. Every name added to a sanctioned list was a political move, a way to exert power and influence. I’d seen the chessboard laid out like this hundreds of times before. The pawns were always sacrificed.

The pawns were the ones I wanted to help.

“Want to try the second name?” I waited a second for him to reply, then proceeded on.

“I want each vampire to call. Better yet, have them email. They need to give me their names, backgrounds, and the other relevant information. They will also pay me directly. I’ll reply to let them know if and when a room is available. ”

“Do you expect anyone born before this century to actually use email?” Nora asked the question with that daughter-of-the-alpha superiority that grated on my nerves. “And where would they send it? KennedyNeedsValidation@?”

This was why it was so hard to be her friend.

Unfortunately, she had a point. The Rain didn’t have a website, let alone an email address. Sure, I could have given them my personal one, but these changes needed to feel official—permanent—like I wasn’t just making things up as I went. So yeah. I would set up a damn email account.

“Your plan will not appease my adversaries,” Jared said, frustration finally bleeding into his monotone.

“Would anything appease them? If they’re set against you, it doesn’t matter what you do. But it will matter to the young, the weak, and the abused. All the people Arcuro and the Aged scorn and ignore. Don’t be like the other vampire masters. Be different.”

“Be weak.”