Page 3 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)

Chapter Two

Leo

Leo collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Twenty-four hours since the café, since Matthews had touched his cheek, and he couldn’t stop replaying the moment. The pull he’d felt, the way his body had responded—it defied everything he’d been taught.

“This is insane,” Leo muttered.

“You’re pathetic,” Friedrich’s voice sneered in his head. “All it took was one smile from a monster.”

He shoved the thought away, but it clung to him like smoke. Here he was, locked in his room like a lovesick teenager, obsessing over a single touch, a brief conversation over coffee.

Tonight would be his first surveillance shift. Twelve hours of watching the Court’s suspected headquarters from the shadows. Twelve hours of being close to where Adam lived, yet unable to approach. Unable to see him. Unable to satisfy this inexplicable hunger for his presence.

And why did that upset him so much?

Voices drifted up from downstairs. Leo got up and moved to the door, opening it just enough to hear better.

“... completely unprofessional,” Stefan was saying. “If Fournier hears about this—”

“He won’t,” Sabine cut in. “Not unless one of us tells him.”

Leo crept into the hallway, staying close to the wall where the floorboards were less likely to creak. The voices grew clearer as he got closer to the stairs.

“The point is,” Friedrich’s voice joined in, “we got what we wanted. Matthews approached him.”

Leo froze.

“Two weeks of surveillance through security feeds,” Sabine added, sounding pleased. “I was beginning to think we’d need to arrange an accident—have Leo spill coffee on him or something equally obvious.”

“Matthews couldn’t take his eyes off him on the feeds,” Friedrich noted. “Following every move like a starving man at a feast.”

“We don’t know what it means yet,” Stefan cautioned.

“It means,” Sabine said sharply, “that our bait worked. Better than expected.”

Leo’s stomach dropped. Bait? They planned this?

“What good would those looks be otherwise?” Katherine’s voice now. “Mother’s right. He’s finally useful.”

It wasn’t surprise that hit him then... It was confirmation.

Confirmation that every warm look, every encouraging nod, had never been real. Just calculation.

“The timing works for us,” Friedrich continued. “With the solstice celebration coming up, Matthews will be distracted. If he’s truly drawn to Leo—”

“Leo? Are you up here?” Felix’s voice echoed down the hallway, growing louder with each footstep.

The conversation in the living room came to an immediate halt. Leo heard shuffling, then his mother’s commanding whisper: “We’ll continue this later.”

Leo quickly retreated from his eavesdropping position, moving silently down the hall to intercept Felix before he could reach the stairs.

“There you are,” Felix said brightly, holding a stack of what looked like old papers. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I wanted to show you something I found—”

Leo grabbed Felix’s arm, steering him back toward Felix’s bedroom. “Let’s talk in your room,” he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice.

Once inside, with the door closed, Felix looked at him in confusion. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to punch someone.”

Leo paced the small room, hands clenching and unclenching. Should he tell Felix what he’d overheard? He trusted his cousin more than anyone else in the family, but still...

“Nothing,” Leo said finally. “Just family stuff. What did you want to show me?”

Felix studied him for a moment, clearly not believing the dismissal, but didn’t press.

Instead, he glanced nervously at the door before reaching under his bed.

He pulled out what looked like a standard hunter’s equipment trunk.

He opened the combination lock, lifted the lid, and removed a false bottom to reveal dozens of old journals, notebooks, and loose papers organized into folders.

“What is all this?” Leo asked, momentarily distracted from his anger.

“Research,” Felix said, sorting through the papers. “Family history, vampire lore, hunter records—stuff I’m not supposed to have.” He pulled out a worn leather journal. “Including this.”

Leo took the journal. “What is it?”

Felix’s smile was like a warm coat thrown over freezing shoulders. He didn’t joke or judge; he just listened.

Felix took the journal back and opened it to a marked page. “Family stories the official records don’t include.” His voice dropped. “About our ancestor Friedrich and the vampire he killed.”

Leo leaned closer. “What kind of stories?”

“The kind that suggest duty wasn’t the only thing driving him.” Felix’s finger traced faded ink. “Elise wrote that he was... changed after Helena’s death. Died within months, though the family claims it was disease.”

A chill ran down Leo’s spine, though he couldn’t say why. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Felix closed the journal carefully. “I’ve been dying to show you this for months.

It took me forever to translate—Elise’s handwriting is impossibly tiny, and the dialect is nothing like modern German.

Plus, all these weird abbreviations she used.

..” He ran his fingers reverently over the cover.

“But it’s fascinating stuff. I mean, why wouldn’t you want to know about our own family history?

The real history, not just the sanitized version they tell us. ”

His eyes lit up with genuine academic enthusiasm. “There’s so much more in here about Friedrich and Helena that the family never talks about. I’ve got other journals too—accounts that contradict our ‘official’ stories completely.”

Before Leo could answer, a knock on the door made them both jump. Felix frantically shoved the journal under his shirt as the door opened. Weber, the family’s long-serving butler, stood there.

“Dinner is served, gentlemen,” Weber announced, his face giving nothing away.

“Thank you, Weber,” Leo replied. “We’ll be right down.”

Weber nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

“We’ll talk more later,” Felix promised, then slipped the journal from beneath his shirt.

Leo watched as Felix knelt before the trunk at the foot of the bed.

His cousin’s fingers worked with practiced precision, replacing the leather-bound volume beneath the false panel in the trunk’s bottom.

Other journals, in various sizes and colors, and a scattering of loose papers, lay nestled in the hidden compartment.

Leo’s pulse quickened. Those journals might contain answers about what he was experiencing—this pull toward Matthews that defied all his training, all his family’s warnings.

Felix pressed the panel back into place with a soft click, then locked the trunk. “Don’t tell anyone about these,” he said, his voice dropping. “Friedrich would burn them without a second thought.”

Leo nodded, his mind racing with possibilities.

A second, sharper knock rattled the door. “Now, young masters,” Weber called, his formal tone carrying a rare edge of impatience.

Felix shot Leo a meaningful look as they headed into the hallway. “Later,” he mouthed silently, then straightened his shoulders and adopted the neutral expression expected of a Rothenburg.

Leo followed suit, his training kicking in automatically—face blank, posture alert, senses scanning for threats—as they descended the grand staircase. Whatever secrets those journals held would have to wait.

The dining room felt tense as the family gathered around the massive oak table.

Uncle Stefan sat at the head, with Sabine to his right and Friedrich to his left.

Katherine sat beside their mother while Will and Max took their places further down.

Leo sat beside Felix, as far from the head of the table as he could manage.

Weber served the first course in silence, a creamy soup that steamed in expensive china bowls. No one spoke, just the occasional sound of spoons against porcelain.

Finally, Sabine broke the silence. “I got a call from Jurgen Eisner today. His son, Thomas, wants to meet Katherine after this operation.”

Katherine’s spoon stopped halfway to her mouth. “The Eisners are from one of the German clans, aren’t they?”

“One of the better ones,” Sabine confirmed. “Thomas is their second son, but he’s shown considerable skill. Four marks already, at just twenty-six.”

“He’s plain,” Katherine said flatly. “I met him at the Brussels conference last year.”

Stefan looked up from his soup. “You’re twenty-nine, Katherine. It’s time you did your duty as a von Rothenburg woman.”

Leo watched his sister’s jaw tighten, though her face stayed calm. As a female hunter from an old family, Katherine was expected to marry and produce the next generation of von Rothenburgs. It was an obligation she had avoided so far, but Leo knew the pressure was growing.

“I’ll consider Eisner,” Katherine said. “But I want options.”

“You’ll have them,” Sabine replied. “After this mission, we’ll arrange meetings with several suitable candidates. You’ll get your pick of the litter soon enough.”

“That’s the only good thing about it,” Katherine muttered.

“What about Friedrich?” Leo asked, surprising himself. “Is he getting a selection of broodmares, too?”

The table fell silent. Friedrich’s eyes narrowed.

“Friedrich’s match is already being negotiated,” Stefan said coldly. “Alexandre Fournier’s niece comes of age next year. The alliance would strengthen our position within the European command.”

“Isn’t Friedrich almost fifteen years older than her?” Leo pressed, unable to stop himself. “That seems—”

“Appropriate,” Stefan cut him off. “At least Friedrich can be with women.”

The barb stung. Leo felt his cheeks burn as Will and Max snickered behind their napkins.

“Unlike some,” Friedrich said coldly, “I put duty before personal desires.” His lips formed a silent word as he stared at Leo: “Faggot.”