Page 37 of Siege of Blood and Betrayal

This executive office suite is designed in the Vasari’s black, silver, and oxblood. The familiar palette has a Pavlovian effect on me, and my nerves settle.

When he finishes his call, he takes off his headset and scrubs his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about that. How are you feeling this morning?”

How am I feeling?“I just had a coronary moment because I woke up in a strange place with sunlight flooding my world.”

“I’m sorry for the disorientation and the stress on your heart. How are you other than that?”

By the cautious smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, he’s not talking about my disorientation.

The bastard is asking about my knife wound and likely thinking about how he healed me last night. About the exquisite pleasure of his mouth on my flesh and the magical pull he has on my blood.

OMG… and that orgasm.

My nipples peak, and I close my eyes. No. I’m not doing this again. Dragging up all the hurt and humiliation, I lock down my reaction to him and cut off the arousal.

“Why aren’t we in the safe house where I took us last night?”

“We’re in one of my father’s secure retreat homes.” He frowns and swallows. “I suppose it ismyhome now. I moved ushere because I didn’t want to be trapped in a row house with the sun blazing and no escape routes.”

I glare at the windows as if they might turn on Zane at any moment and set him ablaze. “And yet the sun is blazing and you’re safe?”

“The windows were treated and then spelled by a New Orleans witch Dad had flown in when he remodeled the office tower. His increased dealings with human businessmen demanded he meet with people during the day. He had several floors of the Richmond building and a couple properties around the city done to make them vampire friendly.”

The white and pale gray marble floor is one glossy sheet of stone stretching from where I entered the room to Zane’s desk, almost thirty feet away. “It’s impressive.”

Zane smiles. “The things my father had a hand in always are—or were.”

That’s true.Francesco had old-world class and a classic taste that set him apart from the modern chrome and glass crowd.

“That’swherewe are. My next question is, why here?”

Zane sits back in his seat, looking every bit the part of a corporate mogul. “I need to conduct business and be seen by the seethe. They need to know I am handling things and am in charge.”

“What if someone recognizes where you are and word spreads? Then we’ll be right back to you being a target.”

He pegs me with a droll stare. “To run the Toronto businesses, I need to be present. The trick isn’t being invisible, it’s being invulnerable.”

“And how do you propose we do that when we don’t know who the enemy is or who else is involved in the coup?”

“I’m working on that. For right now, I need to show those who watching that it’s business as usual.”

“At least until we’re overrun and die.”

He has the nerve to look amused. “I promise you, Scots, if anyone comes at us?—”

“—whenthey come.”

He holds up his hands. “This home is a fortress. It has all the state-of-the-art security features as well as blood wards and witch magic. And if, by some crazy fluke, we trust the wrong person and they get inside, there are four different routes of escape.”

“What if it’s the middle of the day?”

“There’s an SUV in the garage with a sealed compartment in the back for you to drive, or a private tunnel down to the abandoned Lower Bay subway station—which my father took possession of and revamped into a fallback home for the seethe if ever necessary.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s part of your plan?”

“Because our compound is overrun and without knowing who infiltrated and how many they’ve got backing them, the Vasari family needs a safe place to regroup.”

“So, you’re just going to say, ‘Come on over, guys’? How does that make sense? The compound was compromised because someone turned the loyalties of the people in the seethe. Inviting them somewhere to have access to you defeats the whole point of protection.”

---