Page 133 of Vampire Kings Box Set

“True,” Chuck said, guardedly.

Lora had not felt this bad in many years. In as many years as it had been since William was born. She was not only lying to her husband. She was now actually gaslighting him too. She was a dishonest, terrible person, and nothing could change that.

11

“Why is it that I can rule over a million vampires with hardly an incident of concern, and yet the supernaturals I invite into my own home cause more trouble than the rest of the city put together?”

“Sounds more like a you problem than an us problem,” Lorien said, making himself immediately unpopular with that unerring instinct he had for making a bad thing worse.

Maddox stalked back and forth in front of Henry, Will, and Lorien who were all lined up in his office. Will and Lorien were more or less unscathed. The same could not be said for Henry.

“There is not one of you, not a single one of you who was obedient today. Henry, you allowed your personal agenda to supersede the task at hand. You put my boy in harm’s way, and you have very possibly destroyed one of my favorite agent’s marriages. To call your short tenure here a disaster would be to understate it.”

“Where is Ivan?” Henry was like a dog with a bone. A battered, bruised, beat up dog with a bone. Maddox had whipped his fucking ass out there in Candy’s backyard, swiftly and decisively, leaving no illusion of parity between them. Maddox was king, and all knew it.

“I don’t know,” Maddox growled. “Thanks to you, he had a chance to escape. He is gone. We’ve both lost him. And I can assure you that when he returns, he will be stronger than he was last night.”

With Henry told, Maddox moved on.

“You, boy, were told to stay home,” Maddox glowered at Will. “And you…” He transferred his glare to Lorien. “You didn’t do anything specifically bad this time, good work.”

Lorien smiled broadly, until Maddox’s expression continued to make it clear he was not supposed to be happy for being generally average.

“Get out of my sight,” Maddox said. “All of you.”

Henry and Will left the room. Lorien stayed, apparently determined to snatch trouble from the jaws of general fineness.

“Why are you still here?” Maddox sighed. To say that he was in a bad mood was a spectacular understatement.

“I think Henry should stay,” Lorien said. “I know you want him to leave, probably, but I don't think he should.”

“And why is that?”

“He is actually good for Will.”

“And you?”

“What do you mean?” Lorien had the nerve to look confused.

“I mean you’re hot for Will’s teacher,” Maddox said, sounding more like Will than himself. He must have been very close to snapping to have lost so much composure.

“Who said that?” Lorien put on a very convincing show of looking confused.

“We’re keeping him here regardless. If I turn him loose, he’s going to hunt Ivan, and I don’t want that. If you do pursue that absolutely ridiculous mis-match of a relationship, understand I will not tolerate another betrayal from you, Lorien. You will show me loyalty, or you will be cast out. Understand?”

“Of course.”

“Please, get out of my sight,” Maddox sighed. He was not in the mood for conversation. Having to beat Henry in Candy’s backyard had put him in a particularly foul temper. His usual lofty equanimity was beginning to desert him. He’d been in control, once. Now he was like a man riding a bicycle with the pedals slapping themselves against his feet. He was not determining the course of events. He was being driven by them, and that was unacceptable.

Lorien left the room. Not five minutes passed before a tap at the door announced Henry outside.

“Come in,” Maddox sighed.

Henry had showered and dressed himself in a white shirt and blue jeans, a look that almost passed for formal.

“I got carried away tonight. Feral wolves are a danger to us all. Ones like Ivan, they’ll get us discovered, one day. I couldn’t allow him to survive. I know you understand.”

Maddox came over the table in a single bound, his elegant suit moving perfectly with the aggressive motion of his powerful body. He gripped Henry by his tattooed throat, digging what could very swiftly become sharp claws up under his jaw and into his neck.