Page 33 of Blood Ties (City of Blood #1)

“Vespera, it’s wonderful to meet you.” Elina extends her hand toward my mother, who does not move or offer her own in return.

Vespera watches Elina, assessing every nervous breath and uncertain movement.

Elina lowers her hand but refuses to allow embarrassment to affect her demeanor.

I swell with pride, watching her. The quickest way to get through my mother’s defenses is to stand tall and confident in the face of her scrutiny.

“So, you are the woman my son has forsaken all reason for?” Her tone has a mocking edge to it, though her question is kind enough.

“She is.” I move closer to Elina, offering her the comfort of my presence, prepared to shield her if necessary—if only from my mother’s glare. Her heartbeat accelerates in the quiet of the office and I know my mother can hear it too.

“Bash speaks so highly of you. Thank you for having me.”

Gesturing to the seats across from her she commands, “Sit.”

I exhale a loud breath, we have passed the first hurdle. She has decided, however begrudgingly, that Elina has earned a seat, a conversation.

“Elina, do you love my son?” She starts her interrogation as soon as we sit.

“Do you know what it means to love my son, the heir? It is his nature to covet treasures, to feed, to love so strongly it may hurt. You are young and mortal—how do you intend to stand at his side?” I wonder if she connects my mother’s taunt about treasures to the nickname I gave her weeks ago.

Is it a coincidence or has my mother learned that, too?

“My life may be fragile and short—fleeting—but my love is not. In eterno.” She raises her chin so that she appears to look down at my mother despite my mother having the advantage in this room. I want to take her in my arms and never let her go.

Mother watches her, something in her eyes, approval, perhaps?

She is interested, at least. It is a battle of wills and I hope, more than anything, that Elina is winning.

A long, quiet moment stretches out, tension hanging like fog in the air.

Elina’s and my mother’s eyes never break contact.

My mother has a look of consideration on her face. .

“Hmmm, ok.” She leans back in her chair, relaxing slightly.

“I want nothing more than for my son to be happy in his existence, and it is a long existence. If you are making him happy, then I want to believe in that. I am not here to be your enemy, Elina, but you have not yet made yourself an ally. I will be watching. Once you have proven you are worthy to stand by his side, for however long you do, I will be at your back. But I will not allow weakness to affect this family. Prove you are worthy of him.”

Elena holds my hand tightly in her lap, palm sweaty with nerves, but her voice does not waver. “I will.”

With that, mother smiles, fangs on display. It is not a warm smile, but it is not cruel either. We may not have yet won the war, but a battle was fought this night, and Elina has gained a little bit of ground.

“Let us begin,” mother exclaims as she snaps her fingers. The door behind her large mahogany desk swings open and three vampires enter the room, holding trays. Elina tenses beside me, gripping my fingers so hard, it might have hurt if I were not a vampire.

“It’s a meal service,” I lean in and murmur in her ear.

“I’m so proud of you. You were glorious.

Perfect.” She preens under my praise and I am reminded of her in my bed, coming for me when I praise her.

It seems my girl has a praise kink. I can smell her on the air in the room, and I know she is remembering too. I clear my throat and she blushes.

On the desk, the team sets two teapots—one close to my mother and one closer to Elina.

I can smell the metallic blood in the air mingling with the scent of oranges and black tea.

Presumably, my mother’s teapot has blood and this is all for show.

Each teapot is picked up along with a cup and saucer and filled from its respective pot.

A cup is placed in front of me, full of tea.

The fact that my teacup is full of tea and came from my mother’s pot means that—I turn my head quickly in Elina’s direction as she smiles up at the man pouring her tea, ready to accept his offering.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Mother!” I growl quietly under my breath.

She only smiles serenely, excitement lighting her eyes at what is unfolding.

My fingers twitch against my knee, I want to reach out and stop this from happening, but I know that mother has set the stage and now I must watch the show.

Elina takes her cup and looks down, seeing the cup full of blood, and blanches.

She freezes and I watch her intently, unsure of what to do but knowing this is some kind of fucked up test.

Elina gazes at the cup and looks up at my mother, no emotion on her face, and says, “I wonder if any of my own blood is in this cup?” She stares into my mother’s face for a heartbeat before setting it down on the desk, the porcelain tinkling delicately.

I hand her my cup of tea, which she takes gladly and sips from slowly, her eye contact with my mother over the rim challenging.

Mother smiles again, this time with a bit more warmth, as though she has finally found a worthy opponent.

We walk in silence back to my apartment after we finish the meeting with my mother.

I’m not sure what to even say. She did a phenomenal job, handling my mother and her games.

The only problem is I don’t know what she’s thinking and now doesn’t seem like the right time to break the silence.

I would rather she let me know when she is ready.