Page 65 of Ophelia's Vampire

I’m more than inclined to believe this might all be something Haverstad’s campaign cooked up to win cheap political points and fire the next shot in the tit-for-tat rivalry they’ve had going for years, but with Philippe, who knows?

And, with that in mind, I watch for any minute expression or tell to hint and where his mind’s gone.

I find none.

Instead, he turns his gaze to the group of tourists, moving on now to their next destination, and lets out a derisive little sigh.

“Why should we concern ourselves at all with the affairs of humans?”

“If you hadn’t heard, we live amongst them now. As we are. Seems enough of an excuse to concern ourselves at least a little.”

Philippe shakes his head. “Since when has that ever served us in the past?”

A flicker of memories momentarily steals across my vision.

From the darkness of waking in this life with no recollection of what came before it, to bloody wars fought on shadowed, secret battlefields for power and territory and influence, to the day I ripped my freedom from the midst of all that violence.

Philippe was there for all of it, as was Marcus, as was the vampire who made us and countless others. And it’s in the flat apathy on Philippe’s face that I find it, that same shadow of death and destruction and age-old cruelty.

Even long dead, Antonius’s spectre still has the power to haunt across oceans and centuries.

“We do not live in the past,” I say quietly, and Philippe’s scowl reappears.

“And that means it should be up to us to change? Let the rest of the world do as they will. We need not concern ourselves with any of it. We got along well enough before, and we will continue on just the same.”

“With that attitude, you’re more likely to be left behind. A relic to fade into obscurity.”

Philippe gives me a long, hard, inscrutable stare, expression utterly unreadable for a few heartbeats before it melts back into a cruel, indulgent smirk.

“I do not answer to you, Casimir.” He stands, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from his jacket. “I do not owe any answers or assistance to you and that human of yours. I might have, had you been bold enough to seize the power that was yours by right instead of leaving it for me. But as it stands, you do not command me.”

I’m on my feet in a flash, and the momentary satisfaction of seeing Philippe flinch is nearly lost in the haze of anger that steals over me.

“You speak of power as if you know what it means. As if you’d spent these centuries cultivating true power, instead of the fear and control you claim. Power built on influence and trust, rather than the intimidation and violence you and Marcus so aptly learned from Antonius.”

“And yet,” Philippe says, nothing but venom in his tone. “You come to me for help.”

“And you’re too much of a fool to offer it, to live in your past instead of the future that might be.”

Philippe takes a step back with a haughty jut of his chin and a quick tug on his lapel. Little tells I know all too well, masking the deeply insecure creature beneath the veneer he likes to wear.

“Have a good afternoon, brother. It was a pleasure speaking with you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turns and strides away.

I stay where I am, watching him go. A tall, dark figure against the bright fall day, a relic of eras past living in this modern world. I keep my eyes trained on him until he disappears on the other side of the Common, body tense and waiting for an attack I know won’t come.

As always, meeting with Philippe unnerves me like nothing else can.

Marcus is an annoyance, but Philippe? Philippe is a mirror.

Not in the sense that the two of us much resemble each other apart from the eyes, but I look at Philippe and see the creature I might have become had my path taken a different route these last few centuries.

I see the creature I once was.

Antonius may have used the two of us for different purposes and different ends, but we were alike in more ways than I care to admit or recall, even after all this time.

Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I’m about to start making my way back to my car when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and answer without looking to see who it is.

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