Page 49 of Born Free

“I was thinking about that trip to Switzerland,” I start rambling quickly as Orlando goes straight for the second elevator and presses the button. He curses something under his breath about the buildings in this city being too damn tall. “I’ve never been to Europe. Does it really look like the pictures you see online?”

The doors open, and Orlando steps inside, and, not knowing what else to do, I step right in after him.

“You’re not very good at this,” Orlando says without looking at me. He stares straight ahead at his own reflection. “Hiding when something more serious is going on.”

“Oh, there’s always something bad going on in my world,” I say, trying not to let the panic set in. “It’s kind of just the norm when your mother gets murdered within hours of your birth. Things kept getting progressively worse from there.”

That gets his attention, and he looks over at me with furrowed brows.

But we don’t have that far until the ground level, and the elevator dings and slides open.

Orlando doesn’t wait to hear the rest of my story. He strides straight out, following after Roman’s retreating form out the front doors.

“Three years,” Roman says as soon as he walks outside. He’s facing a man being held between two of Roman’s best security team members. The man has long hair that falls into his face in dirty, tangled locks. And the look in his eyes… There’s something absolutely chilling in them. I glance at Roman, and there’s a look of utter hatred and disgust on his face. Roman takes a step forward. “Five women. Three children. And the call to the newspaper…” Roman shakes his head.

The man, Norman, someone called him, spits in Roman’s direction, yanking hard against his captors, but he gains no room. “You act so noble, De Luca. The number of bodies you have dropped shadows my count tenfold.”

A sound deadly and angry resonates in the base of Roman’s throat. “But the hands of your victims were clean. Mine were not.”

What did this Norman do to cause this level of disgust from Roman? Women. Children. A call to the newspaper.

Exposure is one of our greatest threats.

“Was it arrogance or stupidity that brought you back to my city?” Roman asks darkly as he stops in front of Norman, their noses only six inches apart.

“This city doesn’t belong to you,” Norman growls. “Quit pretending you’re King. Let us vampires be vampires.”

He sucks in a wet gasp. Roman’s hand plunges into the man’s chest, more than wrist deep. I’ll never forget the sound of tissue tearing as Roman pulls his fist back. Norman’s eyes are wide, getting just half a second to take a look at his own heart in Roman’s clenched hand. And then the light dies in his eyes. His body goes slack. Roman’s guards let him fall to the ground, landing on his face.

The slow clapping coming from beside me makes my blood go cold. Orlando takes a step forward, toward his brother. He smiles, something wicked and utterly pleased in his eyes. “Bien hecho, hermano. Well done.”

Slowly, Roman looks back at Orlando. His fingers squeeze harder on the flesh he holds, and his jaw flexes and tightens just once.

“An old enemy of yours, I presume?” Orlando asks as he walks forward before stopping right next to the body. He stares down at Norman’s corpse, observant, curious.

“The man was a menace,” Roman says, dropping the removed organ on Norman’s back. “Killed innocent people. Made a scene. Thought he’d get away with talking to a journalist.”

Orlando looks up at Roman, his eyebrows slightly raised, satisfied surprise in his expression. “It’s in your blood. I think I have an idea, brother.”

I really don’t like Orlando’s ideas.

Roman squats beside Norman and grabs hold of the hem of his jacket. He uses the fabric to wipe the blood from his hand.

When Roman does not respond, Orlando dives right in.

“You may not want to return home to the House of Badillo,” he says. “But you were obviously born to do this. You’ve been doing the job of a Royal without even remembering you are one.” Roman stands, facing the brother who looks so much like him. Orlando folds his arms over his chest. “Chicago is under the jurisdiction of the House of Allaway, but every vampire who has ever met them knows they’re incapable idiots. With time and proven effort, I know the King to be a reasonable man.”

My skin feels cold the moment the King is mentioned. My palms feel practically numb.

“You are more than capable of ruling this area, brother,” Orlando continues, a grin slowly growing on his lips. “And governing it does need. You have the Royal blood. You have the skills. I think you treat this city you quizzically love so much as if it were your right to rule it. I propose you rule Chicago as the House of De Luca, and in time, we will get Cyrus to recognize it officially.”

Oh.

Oh.

This I never would have seen coming. A truce of sorts. Orlando gets to keep his throne. But he gets to keep his tie to Roman open. The honor and prestige are still there, even if Roman has no interest in returning to Spain.

“Deal,” Roman says, shocking the hell out of me. I see it in his eyes that he’s calculating every repercussion and outcome of this decision and deal. “You’ll back me with the King if the opportunity arises?”

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