Page 28 of Bite The Terror That Feeds

“We know the way, asshole,” Cobra said. We taunted one another when it was just us, but the second we had a common enemy, we turned that ruthlessness on someone else.

We followed him down a couple hallways, the walls reflective but hard, as if they were made of glass embedded with hues of blue, but if you struck it with a sword or ax, it wouldn’t shatter.

We stepped into an enormous throne room, the ceiling dozens of feet in the air, the unusual element of the walls allowing a small amount of light to make it through. The shadows in the room were banished by torches mounted on the pillars and the walls.

We walked down the next set of stairs to the very bottom of the room, the throne at the top of the next rise. It was far too big for any man, and instead of making him look majestic, he just looked small. Dressed in all black, his hands gripping the edge of the armrests, he held his eyes at attention but also in indifference. He had dark hair like all his sons, eyes like chocolate, his skin pale like snow.

Aurelias stood beside the throne, tall and proud, his arms hooked behind his back, wearing a dark gown with serpents stitched into the fabric. His sword hung at his hip, and he regarded us with the very same indifference.

There was nothing distinctly different about an Original in appearance. Side by side, no unique features set us apart. However, you could recognize one by their energy, by their perpetual sense of superiority. If they thought they were better than you, then they were definitely an Original.

Our interaction was prefaced with lots of stares, not a round of hugs and handshakes.

My father’s eyes shifted to Larisa, and they stayed there.

Aurelias did the same, like they could both recognize the scent of a human.

The silence continued.

Larisa held her own, meeting the stares of both men without blinking.

My father eventually looked at us once again, his head cocked slightly, his eyes unforgiving. “Tell me about the Ethereal.”

“Must we speak here?” I asked. “We’ve traveled a long way in the snow and would appreciate some hospitality—like a strong drink.” My father was on his own power trip, needing to remind us that he wasn’t just our father, but the father of all vampires, the king of us all.

Aurelias turned to look at his father.

I could tell my father didn’t care for that just by the subtle change in his dark eyes, but he didn’t reprimand me in front of the others. He pushed on the armrests and rose to his full height, his cloak behind him, his shoulders proud and his body strong. His age had been frozen in place, and forevermore he would be preserved as a man in his fifties, healthy and strong. He turned with Aurelias, and they departed the throne room.

Cobra turned to me. “Way to get on his good side…”

“I don’t appreciate being received like peasants.”

We followed them, and Larisa was quiet as a mouse, like she wanted to blend into the background and go unnoticed.

We entered a study, a large fireplace aglow as if my father had been in here when we’d arrived. Rugs covered the floor so it was cozy, and the couches were made of soft fabric even though no subjects ever sat there.

We took a seat on the couches. Imperius positioned himself in the corner of the room by the door. One of the servants entered and served drinks to us all. Cobra and I opted for something strong that burned on the way down, but Larisa chose a glass of red wine.

My father sat in the armchair at the head of the seating arrangement, Aurelias on the edge of the couch, his ankle resting on the opposite knee. His eyes moved to Larisa again, studying her like he didn’t know what to make of her.

Father stared at me. “May we speak now? Or do you prefer to have a bubble bath first?”

A sneer moved across Aurelias’s face.

“A son shouldn’t have to demand warmth from his father.” Now wasn’t the time to go head-to-head with the man who had what I wanted, but I didn’t appreciate his coldness. If Mother knew, she’d smack him until he bled.

His eyes burrowed into mine, getting under my skin. “And a father shouldn’t have to entertain such an ungrateful son.”

I stared.

He stared back.

Aurelias continued to sneer.

Cobra attempted to defuse the situation. “The Ethereal orchestrated an attack against Grayson by commandeering the goblins and orcs. They were supposed to be subjects of Grayson, but those assholes whispered something in their ears…”

My father shifted his gaze to Cobra. “The Ethereal didn’t attack in the flesh.”