Page 22 of Hound

Without responding, I followed my employer's command.

Chapter 8

CHRISTOPHER SEPHTIS

The Ambrogio sisters were notorious for their calculated appearances. It began sporadically after our mother’s passing, their mothers sending all seven daughters during a time meant for mourning, when the silence that now harbored the household’s walls arose. Their intention was as conspicuous as our involuntary correspondence in age, fully confirmed three years ago on Anabella’s twentieth—two weeks after I had also come of age.

Whispers of our marriage arrangement turned into persistent chatter, intensifying each year as a brother and sister followed in coming of age. Two weeks ago, before Kaleb’s disgraceful scheme deferred our discussion, it was meant to be the prime focus, yet it hadn’t.

We were to make a decision in less than two months, before the Christmas Ball, but their mothers were expecting a swift commitment as four prospects conveyed multiple avenues. But how could one proper pairing be chosen when our existences were more of placeholders than of that to duly rule our kind? When this matter should be one to ponder, yet I continue to let thoughts of Lorenzo consume me after our breaths married? Particularly when I’d sensed him through pure intuition.

My hand intuitively traveled to the pocket that housed the clicker I’d threatened Lorenzo with. His reaction flashed in my mind with clarity.

He’d flinched, a deliberate expression shadowing his hardened features when those godforsaken words escaped my lips. Then, his eyes went dark, as if a switch had flickered, and he responded like a conventional guardian.

A sunken sensation consumed my chest.

“Why do they continue to curse us with their presence?” Kaleb uttered through an exasperated exhale behind me. The household’s enveloping darkness shrouded the wrinkles lining his charcoal gray dress shirt and paired trousers as he descended the stairs to the last step, pausing before the foyer. Though they were minuscule, the insolence of his shabbiness grew egregious with each visit. Yet, one didn’t have to look at him to assume so.

It was evident in his suffocating ego, the very air around him intense enough to unsettle those in close proximity. Though I had no reaction to it as he settled in his accustomed place on the last step, the twins did as they silently trailed behind in similar indigo collared shirts. Habitual unkempt dirty blonde hair was styled into a quiff, the short tips peeking behind their ears.

Greetings from the second and third youngest were prompt, Jacob’s and Jacque’s gaze never meeting mine. When Kaleb’s head meandered to them, their presences peaked. Jacob’s distinctive self-possession knotted, and in contrast, Jacque’s overweening presence swelled. The twins were thought to share many qualities, one mind to a certain extent. It was far off the mark, and in truth, they possessed a singular affinity: their muscles stiffened whenever in Kaleb’s vicinity.

Air brushed my side as broad shoulders sped past, a body sliding off the banister and landing on carpeted floors in one swift motion. An oxford blue dress wrapped around Noah, thesecond oldest, and elongated his torso and slim hips as he claimed his fixed place between Kaleb and I.

“Oh, my Bethany. She can’t seem to be apart from me any longer. You know, she last took me?—”

“Do not,” Kaleb hissed, his fingers combing back his walnut brown waves, “finish that sentence. I’ve heard enough of those little adventures your dearest embarks you on.”

“But Christopher, nor the twins, have heard it!” Noah frowned as he leaned forward and glanced at the twins. “And you’d like to hear, would you not?”

With a stiff smile that struggled to meet his ears, Jacque said, “Yes.” Jacob, on the other hand, simply nodded.

Raven-black hair swayed along Noah’s shoulders as he turned to me and pouted, fangs shadowing his bottom lip as large cobalt blue eyes widened. “Will you let me share, Dear Eldest Brother?”

Evolution was the observation of species, the foundation of our biological basis. Vampires were rooted in such adaptation, the flowers of success in our assimilation to humanity and society. However, many disregarded the key factor to our kind's advancements: façades. Without the many masks to face the reality of the world, vampirism wouldn’t be what it was today. For some vampires, it was a disguise to conceal the truth they held dear; for others, it was deeply ingrained, bound to the individual.

What Kaleb nurtured was innate; for the twins, it was survival. However, for Noah, it was neither. And there, within the glint in his eyes, surfaced the shadow he tamed underneath this performance everyone believed to be true.

Screeching tires scratched the air as footsteps resounded outside the household. Light crept in as Sonia swiftly opened the towering doors, an outline following her. Raphael, the youngest of the Sephtis name, stepped away from behind her and brisklybowed to us without a proper greeting. Kaleb’s and Noah’s eyebrows rose, and before I could notice, mine did, too.

Raphael kept his head leveled to the floor and his steps calculated, jet-black curls concealing his eyes. However, his tightly entwined fingers against his abdomen raised prickly silent questions.

I glanced at Sonia, her impassive features furthering them. She had received notice of the fourth oldest feeding complications an hour ago. Yet, why had Raphael only arrived now from his feeding?

And where was Alek if he wasn’t with Raphael?

Noah widened his mouth, yet no words escaped him as the familiar engine ceased beyond the entrance. Presences drowned our surroundings as bodies entered the household, my abdomen intuitively twisting at the sight of all seven Ambrogio sisters.

They bore harmonious outfits, each sister donning an array of colorful dresses that emphasized their shared ice-blond hair and distinctive features. A silent indication thrummed in the air as each sister stood before their match, and synchronously, we bowed—except for one.

Davina, the fourth oldest of the Ambrogio name, stared at the vacant place between Jacque and Kaleb meant for Alek. Though her jaw hardened, she did not bring attention to herself; instead, all eyes fell at the body as he stepped through.

“My apologies,” Alek muttered swiftly, a scattered flush painting his pale flesh. At first glance, it appeared in the same manner it did to vampires of fair tones—like ourselves—who were underneath the sun’s rays for longer than ought to be. However, the spotted black veins that webbed around his eyes and temples told otherwise. They were eerily similar to Kaleb’s and Noah’s whenever altercations occurred.

He had fought.

“Let’s move over to the dining room, shall we?” At my words and direction, everyone followed suit, tension weighing between our bodies.

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