Page 92 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

His half-bred half-brother locked his eyes on him, glaring from a hundred yards away. Christian hardened his scowl, his hands balling into fists. “This isn’t a good time.”

“When are you coming back to The Council?” Dane barked, not at all what Christian anticipated hearing.

“Why would that be any concern of yours?”

“You have a duty to The Order!”

His nostrils flared at his castigating tone. “You did not just march onto my property and make demands at me as if you have any sort of authority here.”

He reminded himself the boy was half mortal, and Christian could likely end him with a single blow. While he didn’t care for the half-breed, his mother seemed to have a soft spot for the orphan, so it was best not to kill him.

Dane flung his hands out as if he had nothing to lose. “Turns out, I fucking did. I’m sick of acting like your bullshit isn’t affecting other people. Shit’s getting out of hand, and you’ve been MIA for weeks!”

Racing off the porch Christian caught him by the front of the shirt, yanking him up to his toes. “Not one more word.”

“Or what?”

Christian took in his disheveled attire and haphazard hair. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. “What’s happened to you?”

“If you ever showed up for your job, you’d know—”

He abruptly released his grip with a shove and Dane stumbled back, falling to the ground. “I don’t need the theatrics.”

His jaw locked and he panted. “He touched her!”

“Who?”

“Isaiah!”

Christian frowned. “Who did he touch?”

“My fucking sister! She fed from him!”

“Isaiah is out of his cell?”

“No, there’s a hole in the wall separating their cells. He broke his hand to reach her, but by the looks of it, this wasn’t the first time.”

If Isaiah, an elder feeish vampire of great strength, was receiving blood from that abomination that was once Dane’s mortal sister, this could be catastrophic. “You’ve reported this?”

“Days ago. The elders can’t reach a decision. He needs to die.”

“Agreed.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, Dane stammered. “I…” Pent-up emotion contorted his face and tears flooded his tired eyes. “Thank you.”

It was the first time Christian saw him with any sort of empathy. As a bastard, he knew what it was to be an outcast in this place. He took pity on the boy. “You do realize she’s not your sister anymore.”

His sorrow instantly transformed to fury and he shoved to his feet. “She’ll always be my sister.”

“Dane…” It was the first time he used his name and it felt…odd. “When a transition takes place outside of God’s command, there will always be consequences.”

“She’s my blood. She could also be yours. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Her blood is diseased. We’ll never know her true lineage. Look at the secrets your parents kept from you. She might not even be—”

“She’s my sister,” he snapped. “I’ll never see her as anything less.”

He shook his head. There was no recourse aside from letting her go. In Christian’s opinion, none of those misfits belonged in those cells, and they should all be destroyed, the witch included.

“You’re living in a world of ideals. It’s time you faced the reality. Brother Cain broke the laws of nature when he interfered. He broke the laws of God.”

“Then why is she still alive? If your all-powerful God wanted her dead, she’d be dead. She’s meant to be here.”

“He’s your God too.” His thoughts strayed to his mate. More than once she called herself a captive. Was he being merciful where Delilah was concerned? Or was she just another victim in a cell? He believed in God’s greater plan, but his faith had been shaken over the last few days.

Out of comforting words, he simply said, “God works in mysterious ways.”

Dane’s face pinched as he turned his glare to the distant trees blocking the view of the Safe House. “I would rather see her put down than let that monster sink his teeth into her again,” he rasped.

Taken aback by his confession, Christian frowned. “But you love her.” He could feel the boy’s affection for the girl as much as he could read it in his mind.

“Exactly. I love her, and it’s my responsibility to protect her. I want Isaiah dead. If that brings her survival back into question, so be it. I can’t stand by and let him do that to her again.”

He picked through the boy’s chaotic memories, seeing how much he thought this through and how resolute he was in his belief that Isaiah deserved to die.

Isaiah was once Christian’s dear friend. It pained him to lose him again, and his return to the farm had been a lot for the elders to process. Old wounds reopened and difficult decisions rested on their shoulders once more.

“His crimes are beyond comprehension, I know. But like your sister, the Isaiah who existed decades ago is lost. Gone, I’m afraid. I’ve mourned him for nearly a hundred years, and yet my grief remains. And those that have died, I grieve them the same. For immortals, death is sometimes more agonizing because we hold onto the relentless pain of loss for eternity.”