Page 64

The purpose of the family dinners may not have been vampire bonding, but that was beside the point. Eric needed friends. Wolfe would prefer for them to be people he already had full knowledge of. So Eric would be attending the next family dinner.

And Wolfe knew just who to ask for an invitation.

Wolfe eyed the portrait on the sitting room wall, all lush tones with a simple frame.

Refined but not ostentatious, like much of the furnishing in Veronique’s home.

Still, to the discerning eye, it was clear the expense she had gone to in decorating the place; money had gone into it.

An awful lot of money. In fact, among just the three of this heinous den’s leaders lay an exorbitant sum, enough to keep an entire community of vampires in comfort for many, many years.

Which was exactly why the leaders had to go.

It should be easy enough to orchestrate, better yet with some sort of catalyst to help him along.

Silas in particular had the look of one not long for the land of the sane—so much aggression there, even for one of their kind.

And granted, he seemed to naturally be quite a prick regardless, but there was just a touch of…

something there. He was a vampire on the road to a feral state, even if only on the first steps.

Maybe Wolfe would get lucky and Silas would tear into the other two without any prompting. Because Wolfe had done his research, over these past few years. Slowly, slyly, making sure not to create any waves. And with those three gone, it would all belong to—

“Wolfgang? You’re here early. Are you looking for Vee?”

Ah. Wolfe turned from his perusal to see the object of his musings in front of him.

Johann. The epitome of sweetness itself, even if his naturally sunny demeanor was somewhat dimmed by Vee’s emotionally careless handling.

He was carrying a tray with an assortment of fine crystal and two bottles of port, most likely for the guests after their feeding.

Veronique did so love the old-fashioned methods of entertaining, never mind that the world around them was immersed in modernity.

Take Johann’s proper little suit, fit for a young country lord half a century ago, his dark hair slicked back severely to match.

Wolfe aimed a calculated smile at the little vampire. “It’s really Veronique who’s looking for me. Or, better put, on my behalf.”

Johann cocked his head, wordlessly questioning, as he placed his tray on the mahogany of the bar area to the side of the room.

“She’s finding a book I’d like to borrow,” Wolfe explained.

“Which book?” Johann asked, apparently unable to help trying to be of service, even as he was in the middle of another task.

Wolfe wandered closer, attempting to make out the year of the port. “A collection of poems. One she claims she found transcendent. Tugs on the heartstrings, apparently.”

“Oh, I see.” Johann nodded as he removed the glassware from the tray, arranging it artfully. “But not yours.”

Wolfe paused. “Pardon?”

“Not yours,” Johann said again easily. “Your heartstrings aren’t easily tugged.”

Wolfe’s smile fell from his lips. “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, you know. It’s like you have this…mask on?

Around other people. Pretending to feel what they feel.

” Johann turned to gauge Wolfe’s reaction—perhaps realizing what he’d just said wouldn’t be considered polite by any stretch of the imagination—and, at Wolfe’s cocked brow, hastened to reassure him.

“It’s a really good mask though! Almost perfect. ”

“But you’re not fooled?” Wolfe prompted, taking control of himself and managing a small smile, aiming to put the little vampire at ease.

He had many reasons to keep Johann placated, but mostly he didn’t want to scare him off before he found out how Johann had come to this conclusion.

The majority of people simply assumed Wolfe was… reserved.

“Well,” Johann mused, turning back to his task now that he’d reassured himself Wolfe wasn’t upset with him. “I pretend a lot too. I think I just recognize it.”

Oh, little Johann. So much more observant than Veronique believed, or than any other den member gave him credit for. His maker would have such a perfect little spy in him, if she were only intelligent enough to use him properly rather than delegate him to the role of some sort of pet manservant.

“You find your own emotions…subdued?” Wolfe asked, thinking that aspect of it a bit hard to believe.

“Oh, I feel lots of things!” Johann reassured him. “But Vee says there’re right and wrong ways to express those things, and I usually do it wrong. So in polite company, I put on my polite face, and voilà!” He waved his hand with a little flourish.

Wolfe debated, for just a moment, pretending. It would be easy enough to lie and complain of a similar affliction. Too many emotions rather than too few.

But if Wolfe played his cards right, one day he and this odd little man were going to be allies. And shared secrets were one road to intimacy.

So he meandered just the slightest bit closer, a false expression of chagrin on his face. “I’m afraid my situation is a bit different.”

Johann poured an appropriate amount of port into each glass. “Oh?”

“Have you heard of psychopathy?”

“Like a serial killer?” Johann didn’t sound remarkably concerned that the answer might be yes.

“Not quite. Serial killers are more often than not psychopaths, but the majority of psychopaths aren’t serial killers. Does that make sense?”

Johann nodded, setting the port bottle back down. “It does. I guess I’m a little undereducated on the subject. But that’s why you pretend?”

“That’s why I pretend.”

Johann cocked his head, considering. “I don’t think they’d mind though. The other den members. They’re all vampires. And they’re mean.”

Wolfe let his smile grow. “They are mean, aren’t they?

But people also like to think those they consort with admire them.

Are fond of them. Like if not love them, even.

Those things are difficult for me. And I do so much want to fit in.

” He allowed his shoulders to sag just a touch, trying not to overplay it.

Johann was apparently not easily fooled. “You see?”

Johann nodded thoughtfully. “I do see.” He grinned at Wolfe. “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“Thank you for your discretion.” Wolfe had a moment of uncertainty, wondering if he’d come to regret this precedence of honesty with one so close to the key players in his personal game of chess.

But Johann clapped his hands together in excitement, more exuberant than Wolfe had ever seen him in the presence of the others. “I’ll do some reading on the subject. Then next time we’re alone together, I’ll have appropriate questions for you!”

The laugh Wolfe let out wasn’t entirely false. “How thoughtful of you, Johann.”

The little vampire flushed happily, turning to attend to the arrangements of his tray.

No, Wolfe didn’t think he’d regret it at all. He felt even a minute lessening of some constantly held tension, sharing a truth with someone like this. There was surely a delightful art to lies, to manipulation, to fitting in without genuinely caring for the people around him.

But perhaps some value also lay in being seen for who he was.

Perhaps he’d even found a friend.