Page 113 of Cruel Destinies

My tablet buzzed in my bag next to the bed, breaking the moment. I glanced at the clock and realized it would be my parents calling.

“I should take this,” I said, standing. “I need to make sure Mom got the plate I sent her.”

“Plate?” She scoffed. “You got your mom aplatefor Christmas?”

I frowned, then leaned in for one last kiss. “It’s gold-plated and hand-painted ceramic. She’s wanted it for a while. It’s a collector’s item.”

“Ah, like the zombie game,collector’s edition,” she whispered the last part in a mocking tone.

“Exactly! We Draculs are collectors.” I winked before exiting.

I managed to play secret agent, ducking through the hallways and making it to my room without being stopped. The call ended before I could get there, but I called back as soon as I was in the safety of my room.

Victoria answered, her thick auburn curls filling almost the entirety of the screen. I almost couldn’t tell what room she was in.

“Merry Christmas, Tobias,” she sang. Her smile brightened the screen and my father’s office behind it.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I returned.

Her eyebrows twitched downward a fraction of an inch.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “Did you get the plate I sent?”

Her eyebrows returned to their rightful positions. “Yes, sweetheart! Thank you so much!” She clutched a hand to her chest.

I smiled and ducked my head in a semi-nod.

“Tobias.” Arthur’s face filled the screen.

“Hello, Father,” I said, donning the mask I’d worn around my father ever since I could remember. “Merry Christmas.”

Arthur nodded. “And to you as well, son. Your mother and I are coming to the Dome for the New Year’s Eve Ball. We have some business to discuss with Caesar and some others who will be there, and your mother would like to spend some time with you, since she didn’t get to see you today.”

I nodded, my brows furrowing as I contemplated just how I would juggle what I’d planned to be a night to remember for Arya at her first New Year’s Eve Ball and whatever my parents expected of me.

“Did the connection cut out?” Arthur asked.

“Hmm?” I asked, inwardly kicking myself for using a non-committal noise in front of Arthur. I was sure to get scolded like a three-year-old any minute.

“Tobias?” The video shook as if Arthur was tapping his screen. “Did you hear me?”

“What did you ask?” I felt partial relief that my father blamed my momentary daze on the quality of the video connection and rolled with it.

Arthur’s face smoothed. “How are things with the siren? Have you seen her? Any word if she’s been able to tap into her voice yet?”

The memory of her using it on me made my dick twitch inside my boxers, but I instantly forced bloody images from the Flesh Eaters 4 trailers into my mind, absolutely unwilling to be even remotely aroused in Arthur’s presence—even if it was only digitally.

“I hear she’s still struggling,” I lied. “I overheard Celeste talking to someone about it.”

“Has she said anything to you about it?”

“Nope,” I said with injected disinterest. “And anyway, I broke things off with her like you asked. I thought you were done with me staying close to her?”

Arthur’s frustrated face flashed across the screen, and he rubbed the skin between his eyebrows, mouth tight, jaw set.

“Did you want me tobefriendher again?” It could give me permission to stay near her at the ball.

“No. No, that’s not necessary,” Arthur said dismissively. “I want you to stay away from her. You were right to follow my instructions to break things off with her. You’ve done enough in that area. I’m proud of you, Tobias.”

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