Page 35 of Claim of Blood (Blood Bound #1)
The day passed in a river of calls and reports. Gaspard appeared at noon, as he had for nearly two centuries, carrying a crystal decanter of blood warmed to perfection.
“The staff are adapting well to Leo,” Gaspard reported, settling into his usual chair. “Though Marie has threatened to salt the entire herb garden if Oren raids her bacon supply again.”
Adam chuckled. “Some battles even I won’t fight.”
“Ah, but your claim certainly has,” Gaspard said, eyes bright with mischief. “He marched into Marie’s kitchen to defend Oren’s protein needs. I believe her exact words were: ‘I don’t care if he’s the First Son’s claim—nobody tells me how to run my kitchen.’”
“Is he intact?”
“Mostly. He was sulking in the entertainment room, trouncing Oren at Mario Kart while Lander provided commentary.”
Adam felt that dangerous warmth bloom in his chest again. His beautiful hunter, defending vampires from their own cook.
“Perhaps I should warn him about Marie’s victory over the Boston Pack Alpha.”
“Oh, let him discover that on his own,” Gaspard said, rising with a grin. “It’s more entertaining that way.”
After Gaspard left, Adam pulled up Emilia’s contact, ready to set Leo’s plan in motion. As evening painted the sky in watercolor bruises, he prepared to meet Maja, hoping she was ready to speak—and that he was ready to listen.
The afternoon brought Emilia’s familiar face to his screen, her silver-streaked curls a crown around features that held both power and pragmatism. Her eyes glittered with interest as Leo’s proposal unfolded, though a crease appeared between her brows.
“The ward network would need to be extensive,” she mused, her New Orleans drawl wrapping around each syllable like silk over steel.
“Innsbrook isn’t just land, sugar—it’s old power layered over older secrets.
The energy required to bind it all? Considerable.
” Her manicured nails tapped a slow rhythm on her desk, each click weighted with magical calculation.
“In exchange for that kind of commitment, the patrols can’t just be a gesture. We’d need real boots on the ground.”
“You’ll have them,” Adam promised.
Emilia’s smile turned knowing. “Your claim suggested this, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
“Interesting.” Something shifted behind her gaze, curiosity sharpening to something closer to fascination. “Tell me, sugar—did you do your research before you claimed him?”
“The claiming was…unexpected,” Adam admitted, though the tone of her question made unease flicker at the edge of his thoughts. “Oren performed a standard background check after the fact.”
“Mm-hmm.” Emilia’s mouth curved in that way he recognized—like she was about to drop a revelation and savor every second. “Well, I did a little research of my own. And what I found about young Leo is…fascinating.”
Adam’s instincts went very still. “What did you discover?”
“Leo von Rothenburg is the son of Sabine von Rothenburg, who was the daughter of Sophia von Rothenburg.” Emilia’s fingers stilled, her eyes fixed on him. “And Sophie, née Wagner, wasn’t just a socialite, sugar. She was a witch.”
The words hit like a physical blow. “What?”
“His grandmother was part of a European coven that cooperated with hunter families in the late 1600s,” Emilia went on, her voice deceptively mild.
“During the time the hunters called the Shifter Madness. The magical bloodline runs through the maternal line, though it’s been dormant for generations. ”
Adam stared, silent, as pieces clicked together with disconcerting clarity. Leo’s emerging ability to sense supernaturals…they’d attributed it to the Claim. But what if it wasn’t just that?
“Interesting,” he said finally, his voice low.
“Isn’t it just?” Emilia’s smile turned almost predatory. “Magic recognizes magic, Adam. And your claim? His magic is going to wake up.”
He dragged a hand down his face. “How much do you know about this bloodline?”
“Enough to be certain you’re not dealing with an ordinary human legacy,” Emilia said, her tone turning serious. “If his gifts emerge fully, you may find the Claim’s effects…unpredictable.”
“He’s already unpredictable.” The confession slipped out before he could temper it. He rubbed his forehead, tension tightening behind his eyes. “Do you have any idea what else might surface?”
Emilia hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t.
That line was nearly erased by a schism within their own coven.
Most of the records are gone.” She leaned closer to the camera.
“You’d best prepare your Court. If word gets out a hunter with witch blood has been claimed by the First Son, it won’t stay a local curiosity. It’ll become a global incident.”
Adam exhaled slowly, feeling the magnitude of it settle over him like a fresh weight. Leo, who had already upended every expectation, was about to do it again.
“Thank you, Emilia.”
“You’re welcome. And sugar?” She softened, just a fraction. “Don’t keep him in the dark. He deserves to know what he carries.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “He will.”
They ended the call. For a moment, he sat unmoving, the silence of the office pressing in. Leo’s quiet determination, his kindness, his fierce protectiveness—he’d already begun rewriting the shape of Adam’s world. Now he might rewrite it in ways no one could predict.
The evening was fast approaching, painting the windows in bruised purples and golds. Over/Under waited—and with it, a conversation he’d put off for too long. Maja deserved the truth, all of it, no matter how much it cost him to speak it.
His phone buzzed. Leo again.
“Good luck. Try not to let her terrify you too badly.”
A laugh escaped him, startled and helpless. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that little tether to something warm and human.
“Thank you, beauty. I’ll be home soon.”
He pocketed the phone, squared his shoulders, and left the office, feeling every one of his millennia settle in his bones.