Page 53 of Broken Bonds

“Bruce Marchman?” Father asks. “That you?”

The vampire’s lips curl slightly in what I assume is an amused smile. “Nice to speak with you again, Mike,” he says.

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Father says. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s go into the office and we can talk,” I say, indicating for the vampire to walk ahead of me. I don’t want to turn my back on him even though, rationally, I know he won’t try any shit here. Or anywhere, as long as there’s no cause.

Still doesn’t alleviate my instinctive, visceral mistrust of the dude.

With my office door closed, I settle behind the desk while Marchman slowly and deliberately removes his cloak and gloves, then drapes them over the back of the second chair in front of my desk and settles into the first. I know he’s deliberately moving slowly so as not to spook me, because he could have done it a lot faster, meaning he is going above and beyond to stay on my good side.

Vampires move…well, supernaturally. Smoothly. Almost silently. Even the rustle of clothes one hears is largely absent.

Guess that’s another thing that creeps me out about them. Wolves are apex predators, but vampires are the apex predators of other apex predators.

I lay my phone on the desk. “I’ll let him talk, Father, because he just arrived and I don’t have the whole story yet.”

Marchman crosses one leg over the other, his khakis not even the slightest bit wrinkled. He focuses his dark green gaze on the phone instead of me, likely rightly guessing that to maintain eye contact with me would trip my Alpha instincts to run him out of my territory.

If I could keep myself from trying to kill him, that is.

“Two weeks ago, our nest was attacked, much as the Mobile nest was attacked three weeks before that. Somehow, someone obtained the updated details about our main compound—security systems, personnel, everything. They attacked during the daytime. Fortunately, all of our younglings and nearly all the children were in school. Most of the mates and familiars were at work or running errands. They killed three mates, four familiars, all ten of our full-time security detail, and fourteen vampires. There are only four of us left now—vampires—and a total of thirty-two children, younglings, mates, and familiars.”

“Shit,” Father says. “I’m sorry. Who did it?”

“We don’t know. We managed to kill seven of them, severely wounded several others. But they took all of their wounded and some of the bodies with them upon their retreat, meaning no interrogations. The only bodies left behind were humans. We suspect those were mercenaries. It was impossible to identify the attackers in the heat of battle, but we suspect shifters allied with the Atlanta Pack and Randolph Sterling.”

“What are you looking for from us?” I ask.

“We beg for sanctuary for our children, younglings, mates, and familiars.” Finally, the whisper of emotion shadows his expression as he swallows and his eyes go too bright. He blinks. “We are all grieving, but especially so those who lost their loved ones. We can pay for your assistance but with only four of us we cannot adequately protect them.” Now cold rage tenses his sharp jaw. “The four of us want to hunt the attackers and exact retribution. And if we lose our lives in the process, at least we would know those we love are safe.”

“Why not go to another nest?” Father asks.

“We tried. I had already arranged it with Albert Lemaire in Chicago. We were planning to move everyone there this weekend.”

“What changed?” I asked.

“The Chicago nest was attacked yesterday,” he quietly says. “Fortunately, they’d already cleared their mates, children, and younglings out of the main compound and moved them to secret secondary sites for their safety. They’d worried perhaps they would be attacked next, and those worries turned out to be well-founded. Four vampires and three familiars were killed, along with two of their security agents. But they killed eight of their attackers. While the rest got away, most of them were severely injured, and they weren’t able to take the bodies this time.”

“Could you identify any of them?” I ask. “The attackers or their dead?”

“No. But two of the escapees were shifters who smelled like Sterling’s pack, according to Albert. Three of the bodies left behind smell like wolf shifters even though they’re in human form. We’re speaking with sources, trying to identify them now. They grabbed DNA samples before incinerating the bodies. Also, he sent me pictures of the dead. May I retrieve my phone from my pocket?”

Despite all of this I do appreciate the vamp deferring to me. He’s kept his hands where I can see them this entire time despite knowing he’s way faster than me and could have slit my throat five times already before I could even blink, much less move.

I nod.

He pulls it out and opens it to his photo app, then hands it to me.

I manage not to touch his hand and lay the phone on the desk to swipe through the pictures with one finger.

“Recognize them?” Father asks, sounding all business now.

“No,” I say. “I’ll have him text them to you on your burner.”

“Okay. Let me grab it and power it up.”

I use a finger to push the phone back across the desk to Marchman. A moment later, he’s texted the pics to my work cell as well as to Father’s burner phone.