Page 33 of Blood Descendants
“It’s been a minute,” Ares says, his voice nearly monotone. He’s using so much control right now, I’m exhausted just watching this interaction. “Father, I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée, Lana Kincade.”
“Lana,” the man says as he releases Ares and turns to me. His gaze drops down the length of me, and my skin crawls. From what Ares has told me, this man sleeps around. A lot. All with the intent of creating more children who will one day be vampires, just like him. The man steps toward me, and I extenda hand before he can try to hug me. He smirks at my assertiveness but takes my hand, shaking it softly, which actually creeps me the fuck out. “Augustus Lonan. It’s lovely to meet you.”
It takes every ounce of my strength not to yank my hand away when he raises it and presses a kiss to the back of my knuckles. “You as well.”
Lies.
“Come,” Augustus says. He extends a hand to the door and walks out, turning down the hall. I cast one look at Ares, who looks about as ready to snap as I feel, but we make our way down the hall after the man who created him.
Augustus leads the way into a gorgeous living room. A massive fireplace dominates the space, a white marble mantle framing the fixture. Black walls stretch high above, and the millwork detail is impressive. There isn’t one chandelier, but four overhead. Soft leather couches frame the space, and a stupidly white rug is laid out in the middle.
It looks just like the lair of a rich mafia vampire.
“Forgive my curiosity,” Augustus says as he takes a seat on one of the couches. He spreads his arms over the back, taking up space. He crosses one ankle over the opposite knee. “But my son hasn’t given me any details about you. Simply a phone call that he was engaged and he wanted to have a meeting.”
“Ask away,” I say, feigning confidence as Ares and I sink onto the couch opposite him. Ares stretches a hand behind me, draped casually over my shoulders. I cross my legs, and he rests his free hand on my bare knee. I lace my fingers through his.
“I’ll preface this conversation by letting you know that I’ve looked into you,” Augustus says with no apologies. And my stomach drops for a moment. We’ve prepared for this, I silently remind myself. This is exactly why Ares and I have taken anentire week getting to know one another, briefing on what is to come.
“Can’t say I’m surprised,” I answer. “I’m dying to know if you’ve found anything interesting.”
Augustus raises an eyebrow at that, looking slightly impressed that I’m not freaking the fuck out. “You’re a surprise, Lana Kincade. Not like most of the women in this city. But you are exactly what I might have dared envision for my son.”
“I’ll take the compliment, but you haven’t really answered my question,” I state, raising my own eyebrow.
The man chuckles, and I can see how it wouldn’t be hard for him to convince a slew of women to sleep with him. His eyes dance when he smiles. With danger, but still. They dance. “Well, you were born here in Manhattan. Your parents had a decree of divorcement when you were five years old, just one year after your sister Emmie was born.”
Details. The man has details that even Ares doesn’t know yet. He barely knows my sister died. I haven’t told him her name yet.
“You’re nailing the basics so far,” I goad, knowing I probably shouldn’t. Yet I can’t help it. The man screams predator, and he is exactly the kind of reason why I took my focus into teaching self-defense to women.
The look in his eyes darkens as he recognizes the challenge. “Your grades through elementary and middle school were exceptional. And then your mother and sister were killed. The police report…” he shakes his head, and my grip on Ares’ hand tightens. I hear the faintest growl rumble in his chest. His entire body tightens around me, every motion protective. “Fucking brutal. Can’t imagine what finding that would do to a fifteen-year-old.”
More details I’ve yet to share with Ares. And his grip on my knee tightens.
“Fuck up her grades for the rest of high school,” I say coolly. I’m not letting Augustus get under my skin. He’s testing me right now, and I will not let him make me fail. “Bring on weekly therapy for three years. Give her some brutal nightmares. But you already knew this.”
Augustus looks at me, his eyes evaluating me and every word I say, every reaction I give. Finally, he nods. “I commend you for graduating high school, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy. And your father? He must have had quite the strength of character. Losing a daughter like that. I’m sorry you lost him as well.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” I say evenly, though, in reality, I’d like to give this man a quick punch to the throat, a ball-crushing kick to the junk, lay him out face down, and make him bleed all over his white rug.
A woman walks into the room holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres. She sets them on the coffee table in the center of the room. And then reality starts closing in, the literal fact of what these men in this room are. She walks straight to Augustus and offers him her arm.
“You’re a gem, Heather,” he says with a soft smile. He takes her hand, drawing her closer, and I get half a second view of his fangs lengthening and black veins sprouting from his suddenly glowing red eyes.
Those fangs disappear into her wrist. And Heather goes eerily still. The look in her eyes goes out of focus.
Exactly like I saw at that party where this all began.
Augustus takes eight long pulls, and then he licks over the spot where he bit her, sparing me from having to see any blood.
“Son?” Augustus offers, literally holding the woman’s arm in Ares’ direction.
“I’m good,” Ares says, his tone hard and cold.
“Thank you, Heather,” Augustus says, looking up at the woman as she slowly comes back to herself. “Would you send in some white wine, perhaps?”
“I don’t drink,” I pipe up because there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let my inhibitions be hindered around this man. “Health nut, remember? The benefits do not outweigh the cons for it to hold any interest for me.”
