Page 55 of Those That Are Lost (Hidden Vampires #2)

AURORA

“ I think this makes it three-nil.” I dance around the table, potting the final ball and raising the stick above my head in celebration. Antares shoots me a thoroughly pissed off look as he stares at most of his balls still decorating the pool table.

We’d been in the common room most days. And most evenings.

Adicious wasn’t keen on letting me know much about the business he got up to during the day.

From the guys, I’ve managed to discern that most of them worked some form of manual job and their money was controlled by Adicious.

What he did with all the income remained a mystery to me and was a source of tension in the pack.

From the state of the run-down house, it wasn’t like the money was being used to renovate. And it’s not like they had to buy food. Yes, there would be utilities and this place was rather large but there were several incomes to cover it and I’m sure there would be surplus.

“I’m not playing again,” Antares moans, leaning his pool queue against the table. I wasn’t a great player but turns out he’s even worse than me.

We’d been playing for a while, the common room had been empty until our last game when Mitch and a couple of the others had wandered in for some blood.

They’re sitting over on one of the beat up sofas on the other side of the room.

I lift my chin in their direction indicating to Antares that we should talk to the group.

We’d been trying our best to mingle as much as possible. Some of the males have taken to us both easier than others. All had shown surprise at my reappearance, and even more so at my companion.

There was a weird atmosphere whenever Adicious was in the room with us.

I saw several pack members shoot secret looks or purposefully not catch my eye contact.

Mitch had informed us that we’d caused quite a stir, particularly Antares’s flex of power on our arrival.

Adicious had laid out the law even harder and demonstrated his dominance by being even more physically dominating with the pack.

It made me sick with anger that some of these males had been subject to his fists because of me showing up.

To my face, Adicious had switched tactics.

He was being sickeningly charming and pretending that me not immediately bending to his leadership, and therefore his fangs, was all part of his intended plan.

And he made no secret of ensuring the pack knew it was me holding them up from becoming more powerful. The dick was a true class manipulator.

“How’s it going?” I address the three males as I take a seat amongst their group. They all immediately bow their heads and drop their eyes—it's unnerving. I want to prod Mitch, and tell him to cut it out, but I have to keep up the facade that we haven’t been together for the last week.

“We’re good, thank you,” the older looking male to Mitch’s left answers. His name is Bartosz but several call him Bartie. “Have you settled in well?”

“Getting used to it,” I say with a shrug.

Bartie is one we think might not enjoy Adicious’s rule.

Ty barely spoke to him but Atlas told me he’s always keeping his head down and doesn’t really join in.

He’s nearly five hundred years old and only joined the pack for protection at the end of the war when Adicious started collecting bonds.

“Do you want some blood?” Mitch offers me his glass. He’s already drunk some of it so I don’t think it’ll have been tampered with. Grateful, I nod and take the tumbler from him.

We chat for a while, Antares joining us and making the conversation flow easier. Considering how much time he spent getting into fights on the continent, he really can work a crowd and get them opening up when he’s trying.

The third male in the group, Jackson, doesn’t say much and keeps his gaze tilted down but seems sweet enough.

He’s sporting a deep purple eye on his pale skin and is quite lean in stature.

He tries joining in a few times but catches himself and shrinks back, like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing and so purposefully withdraws.

I move from my seat to perch on the coffee table next to him as Antares and Mitch enter a debate about some sports team I have zero interest in.

“How long have you been here?” I ask what I hope is a simple innocuous question.

“About seven years,” Jackson mumbles, and fiddles with the glass in his hands. I don’t like that he won’t even look at me. It doesn’t sit right that he’s clearly intimidated by me.

“What do you do?” I try again with another simple question.

“I… er…” He stumbles. I really feel for the guy. He’d been talking to the other males fine before we came over. I hate that I’m making him this nervous and want to put him at ease. “I work in a bar in town. The same one Mitch sometimes works at too. ”

“That’s cool. One I would know? I used to go out frequently as a student.” I take a sip of the blood in my hands and keep my voice easy.

“It’s a bit of a dive, not many students come to it. It’s more of a biker bar.”

“Is that how you got the black eye?”

“No,” he gives me a clipped answer.

Bartie overhears that bit. “No, that was the work of Cairn,” he says, with a level of anger in his voice which warms me to him even more.

“Why?” I press.

The older male looks at the younger one before sighing. “Because Jackson suggested that we ask Antares to join us for a drink the other night.”

Antares cuts off mid-sentence at the mention of his name, him and Mitch turning our way.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.” Jackson shrinks further back into the couch and waves a hand, trying to wave off the attention.

“It does matter, at least to me.” I slowly place my hand on his knee.

The gesture makes him look at me and I see the extent of his injury.

It's not just the dark bruising around his eye and up his brow, his eye is bloodshot too. My fangs descend and I have to zip my lips to ensure Jackson doesn’t think I’m angry with him.

“Well this looks cosy,” a voice that I already recognise for its grating tone booms across the space.

I immediately drop my hand and swing round on my seat to see the three males I detest striding into the lounge.

Ronan walks right up to us and stares down at where I’m sitting too close to Jackson for his liking. Tough shit.

“We’re just drinking and getting to know more of the pack,” Antares fires back. I can feel his hackles rise .

“Ooooo, he can understand us enough to answer in full sentences,” Cairn mocks, elbowing Tripp and laughing.

I reach for Antares as he stands but he slips my grasp and is in Cairn’s face in a blink. “What are you trying to say?”

Okay, I see how Antares gets into so many brawls. He’s quick to rise to their bait.

“He’s saying that you're a dumb Fae piece of shit and shouldn’t be here.” Tripp straightens. He’s a mountain of a male compared to Antares's slight frame. Although, apparently they’ve forgotten the power he’s capable of.

“Hey.” I stand, cutting off any further remarks.

Six pairs of eyes land on me. “You don’t decide any of that.

Antares has as much right to be here as you do.

And you’ll do well to show more respect to all other members of this pack if I were you.

” I don’t really have any authority yet but I’m supposed to be here to take up a leadership role.

Nothing like the present to try it out. And I’m still pissed after finding out it was these thugs that hit Jackson.

“You don’t make those decisions either.” Ronan squares up to me, a move I won’t tolerate. I show him my fangs.

“Maybe not yet, but I will soon. And maybe there are things that need to change around here.”

“You think Adicious will let you decide what happens in this pack because he’s to be your mate?” No, I absolutely don’t think Adicious would give a mate that privilege, but I’m playing a role here and need to de-escalate this situation right now.

“I might sit beneath his rule but I’ll outrank you, so do us a favour, shut the fuck up and leave us alone. Or shall I tell Adicious that you’ve been trying to upset his future mate?”

The vitriol is almost tangible as it rolls off Ronan. His want to either hit me or continue arguing is crystal clear but he backs off. He gestures to his friends and they grab some blood packets and leave.

“You should’ve let me give them a time-out from breathing,” Antares says as he slumps back onto the sofa and crosses his arms. I roll my eyes at his petulance.

“You can’t resort to your power all the time.” I offer him a grin so he knows I’m not admonishing him entirely. It does feel pretty good having put Ronan in his place, even if I have to use Adicious as a threat to do it.

“Why not? It’s so much fun seeing them squirm.”

“I’m proud of you for not using violence.” I pat him on the shoulder.

Mitch is wearing a full shit-eating grin and the other two look at me with a mix of trepidation and relief.

“I think you might be good for this pack,” Bartie remarks. I note Jackson nodding slightly too.

I add both of them to the list of those we will save when we take this pack down.

“Aurora, a word.”

My hope of a full day without running into the pack leader gets squashed as we leave the common room a little while later.

I suppose I should be trying to spend some time with Adicious, but as he’s already on the kill list—at the top of it—I’d rather get to know the others in the pack.

Time is limited and I want to save any of these males that have been trapped.

I give Antares a quick smile and turn around. “Of course.”

“In my office.” We both go to follow Adicious, but his lack of movement makes us pause. “Not you.” He gives a dismissive wave to my bodyguard .

“He’ll come or I won’t,” I inform him, leaving no room for discussion.