Page 113 of A Bond Beyond Blood

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Elias

Had I not been such a patient man—centuriesof existence would do that to a person—the fact that it took the Council of Lords nearly a fortnight to respond to my request for a meeting would have driven me absolutely mad.

On the contrary, I was beside myself with excitement.

I hoped they’d schemed and planned while they made excuse after excuse to delay the inevitable, and today’s visit to the House of Lords would be nothing if not eventful and entertaining.

My mouth practically watered from the anticipation of it all.

I hadn’t had to persuade the gate guard to allow me entry today, an unexpected gift, and now, as I approached the House of Lords, the doors opened inward, a guard on either side, head held high and eyes narrowed as they watched me enter.

No fanfare this time, but a welcome as warm as could be expected nonetheless.

“Morning, boys,” I said with a wide smile.“Wonderful day for a coup, wouldn’t you say?”

“Shall we kneel?”one of them bit through clenched teeth.

I chuckled at the brazen stupidity, shaking my head as I passed.“I see we’ve learned nothing.”

When I reached the center of the foyer, I spun toward them and extended my arms dramatically.“Time to choose a side, kids.”I winked at the one on the right, whom I recognized from my last visit, an old vampire, who’d been turned at a young age, mid-twenties if I had to guess.BrightsideorBrightling...something like that.He had a look of eagerness in his eyes I found quite intriguing.

Holding my gaze, he gave me the slightest deferential nod, and my grin widened.That’s the spirit.By the time this was over, a line would be drawn, those who stood with me and those who stood against.

“Elias,” a familiar voice called.“Please join us.”

I turned toward the sound and Winston stood just a few yards away, down a dark corridor I hadn’t explored the last time I was here.That visit had been so brief, I’d barely had time to make my intentions known and end a few vampire guards who’d forgotten their place.

“You look well, Winnie,” I said as I strode past him into a massive, circular room.

In the middle of the room stood a raised dais, with a round table in the center and five chairs.The Council of Lords had already gathered and were positioned in each of those seats, which made for a grand entrance—something I’d long ago mastered.

My skin prickled with the presence of my throne, though a quick glance confirmed it was not in this room.As I walked toward the center, I scanned the walls for another door.My kind would not put themselves in a room with only one way in and out, but nothing in the walls indicated a second exit or passageway.

No matter, I did love a good game.

Dark, espresso-stained wood lined the walls, wainscotting from the cold cement floor to the dreadfully gauche domed ceiling which had been painted in shades of black and gray to mimic a dark cloudy sky.

Michelangelo this was not.

By the end of this meeting, I hoped it wasn’t splattered with crimson, but then, no one could be sure of today’s outcome.And frankly, a good blood bath could only help the monstrosity painted overhead.

Winston took his seat at the table, and though the way the chairs were positioned around the circular wood table did not indicate a particularheadof Council of Lords, it was clear in the set of his shoulders that Winnie was the leader of this merry band of misfits.

Of course he was.My dear friend was nothing if not ambitious.

Sadly, that ambition would cost him more than my benevolence.

“Gentlemen,” I called, tapping along the walls as I circled the room.“Allow me to reintroduce myself.”I scanned the men, noting three from my former guard–shame on them–and one man I’d heard of only in passing but had never had the pleasure.

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