Page 16 of Hound

Lace had insured they had all been disabled, so how was this possible?

Unless he lied.

No. Lace would never do that.

“You’re bluffing.” Me or him? I wasn’t sure as fear crawled up my spine and crushed my chest.

“Bluffing holds no place in my existence. The CEG, however, continues to poison it. With the proof I possess, I’ll be rid of one pest.”

His voice was grounded—his heartbeat as steady as a vampire’s could be. Of course he was telling the fucking truth.

“How do you expect me to find that fuck?” He’d vanished like a ghost after my visit. Lace confirmed it. But he was the only one who knew. Christopher could twist the truth and ruin Lace’s chances of getting what he had been working for his whole life, to erase how much guardians had been vouching for him.

I couldn’t have that.

He pulled out an envelope with a sheet of paper. “You’re the Hound, are you not?”

Silence densified the air. My answer was clear as day and the motherfucker knew it.

With a humorless sneer, he said, “You are to tell no one. We begin tomorrow,” and vanished.

Chapter 6

CHRISTOPHER SEPHTIS

Reading was a form of escapism that didn’t require travel nor structure. Outside the bounds of continuous studies, it was the break I longed for during gathering days, the only liberty I could afford under the shackles of my existence. A dream that warranted no sleep and didn’t feed the belief that drove our mother to her death: optimism.

Walnut bookshelves enveloped the first and second floor of the library, each possessing endless reams of aged, bounded literature, touched by perished family members we held no relation to outside of name; waded through by eyes that could no longer recount the words embedded in faded pages.

After our mother’s death, my brothers no longer explored the library, which I silently deemed my sanctuary. No one was to enter unless allowed through my permission. Each of us possessed one within this manor—a refuge outside our chambers and common spaces. When a space didn’t reserve the leisure I craved, I went to the other.

There were moments, though, where dusk and dawn strenuously muddled into each other, where neither my chamber nor the library could offer me solace. The more I required this form of escape, the least it appealed to me.

I settled into the grand chair before my antique, deep cherry desk, the wood glistening underneath the low lighting above. A force tugged my gaze onto the spiral staircase nestled in a shadowed corner, the dark metal railings pausing beneath the high ceiling. To the naked eye, it was supposed to be a route that led nowhere, that possessed nothing. But beyond the concealed access door rested the spirit of our mother, the one I’d known before the light in her eyes diminished.

That Man had led her to her demise with each child. Unlike humans, full term vampires came to be in twenty-seven weeks; however, recovery was fourteen weeks. Bearing vampires was known to be life-threatening and took a toll in all aspects—physically, mentally, spiritually, politically. It was the reason why our society bore polyamorous marriages, how every Regal Family had multiple heirs. That Man, on the other hand, only had our mother.

Sophia Sephtis was the first successful human-turned-vampire and had withstood more than any born-vampire in history.

In calculated accordance, after each birth, Ministry-sent attendants arrived to further the Sephtis lineage through artificial insemination. That Man had never visited the mansion or our mother after stepping into his role in the Ministry twenty-two years ago—as Premier a decade ago—and it was That Man who sealed away the faint remnants of our mother after she passed.

Dense regret tugged at my chest as fingers traced the frames that hung from my neck, resting against the key that granted me the little leverage in this cage. The very scripture that mother instructed me to risk my existence to keep. A piece never to be revisited unless life depended on it.

The History of Vampires.

A warning knock trembled against the library entrance and silent footsteps followed soon after, Sonia entering and swiftly bowing as the door closed behind her. Half-humans varied in harboring a strong footing, yet, in our Senior Guardian’s case, her footing was comparable to a vampire’s. Years under this manor played a role, however, her presence was one I’d always noted: she never held one.

Similar to Lorenzo.

I swallowed the thought away. “Anything to report?”

She slowly unraveled the device I’d given her and placed it on the desk. “I can note it’s a clicker not for human nor vampire ears to hear.” She didn’t concern herself with expanding her hanging statement.

“Then for who?”

Sonia was rather quiet, but never non-vocal when it came to matters I requested. She always had an answer to my questions. Never. . .silence.

“Is your answer classified information?” She nodded. “From the CEG, or you?”

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