Heir of Night by Emily Goodwin
Chapter 32
“How do you know it’s him?” I ask
“Ó Cléirigh,” Lucas answers. “It’s his last name.”
I shake my head, having a hard time jumping from the Horsemen knocking on my door to some vampire who’s older than Lucas inviting us to a fancy dinner that is no doubt a trap. “Okay, um…fuck. I don’t know where I was going with that.”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re not going to dinner, and Eamon can fuck off.”
“Why do I get the feeling this is personal?” I suck in a breath. “You knew who I was talking about by just a basic description. You guys have history, don’t you?”
“There aren’t many vampires my age,” Lucas tries, and I hold up my hand, winding a string of white light between my fingers.
“Don’t lie to me, Lucas.”
“I’m not lying, Callie. I don’t lie to you.”
“I know,” I relent. “Don’t withhold the truth for my sake. I’m going to find out one way or another.”
“Fine,” he growls and continues to rip the invitation up, striding into the living room so he can throw it in the fireplace. There’s no wood in there, and he looks at me, dark eyes flashing, and I know he wants me to ignite it with magic. “At one point in time, Eamon and I shared a mutual friend.”
Emotion plays on his face, and something Eliza told me clicks into place. “His brother,” I say, words tumbling out of my mouth. “He’s the one who was killed when Eliza’s father ordered the attack on the vampire nest. You’d already left, escaping death by sunlight.”
He looks at me, surprised, and then lets out another sigh. “Yes. Siobhan and I had spent the last century together raising hell. I hadn’t allowed myself to open up to or trust anyone, and Siobhan was the same. It was our kindred refusal to trust each other than led us to becoming friends.”
“I’m sorry he died,” I tell Lucas. Raising hell means they quite literally raised it, killing and torturing their way through wherever they were. I don’t agree with it, yet any sort of suffering on Lucas’s part hurts my heart. “More importantly, why is his brother dead set on getting vampires and witches to wage a war against humanity?”
“Eamon lost several siblings that day. His father was turned and then sired all six of his children into vampires. Only his sister and two brothers survived the attack. He never got over it.”
Thinking how a vampire feels when humans kill their family makes my head spin. Obviously, vampires can be good, like how Lucas is now. Though even when they’re bad—and I’m talking the worst of the worst—they still care about their family, and an actual family line strengthened through a bloodline is ultra-bonded.
“When you said immortal beings were patient, you really meant it.” I pick up a piece of the invitation and smooth it out, looking at the address. “You don’t want to hear what he has to say?”
“No,” Lucas answers. “Let’s put aside the fact I’m married to a witch for a moment. Engaging in a war with the humans doesn’t suit my best interest. You know me, Callie. I like money, and I like being left alone. Yes, I feel like I am better than most humans, but I don’t want to start a war against them.”
I give him a look.
“Fine. All humans. I know I’m superior. I know I’m better in all areas. And that’s enough for me. I don’t need others to tell me how I’m able to reign over them. I don’t need others to grovel at my feet. It makes no difference to me. I’m better regardless of if the humans acknowledge it or not.”
He doesn’t mean to be arrogant but is more so being honest. And really, he’s right. Physically, he’s stronger and faster. He doesn’t get sick, can withstand the cold and extreme heat. He’s lived long enough to have the wisdom of a hundred wise men and the knowledge of the entire Kama Sutra.
“And Eamon thinks you should flaunt all that. He told me he wants the witches to join him too.” I raise my eyebrows and shake my head. “He’s fucking nuts to think witches and vampires could work together.”
“Is he, though?” Lucas asks, face pained. “Humans haven’t treated either of our kinds well. They persecuted you. Hunted us. And they’d do the same if they found out werewolves existed as well. You can imagine the heads on walls from the wolf-hunts.”
“I get it,” I admit. “Really, I do. Humans fear what they don’t understand. Hell, look at my relatives on my dad’s side. Instead of getting to know me, they’d kill me so I don’t pose a threat.”
Lucas strides over, taking the torn pieces of paper from my hands. “We are not going to give Eamon and his dumb fucking cause a chance. Okay?” His stormy eyes meet mine.
“Okay.”
“We only have an hour until sunset.” He bends down, resting his forehead against mine. “We are going to get a dresser and that girly rocking chair you saw in Paradise Valley and not pay him a second thought.”
“Okay,” I say again. “I’ll try. Honestly, though, he’s kind of small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.”
Lucas snorts a laugh. “I’d fucking love to tell him that.”
“Wouldn’t that be a knee to the balls?” I shake my head. “Just when you plan your world takeover, the fucking Horsemen are here to one-up you.” I echo Lucas’s laughter. “Fuck. Things are just so fucking fucked up.”
“It won’t be forever.”
“Right.” I let my eyes fall shut, having a hard time believing him.
“Let’s cross one thing off your oh-shit list first, and then we can deal with fucking Eamon.”
“You remembered my list?”
“All too well.” He smooths my hair back. “Try not to worry too much, my love.”
“I’m trying,” I tell him and get annoyingly emotional. “I can’t wait until I’m not pregnant anymore.” I sniffle back tears, and Lucas runs his hands down my middle. He likes my full figure, and knowing he’s the reason I’m basically a beached whale at this point turns him on.
“Go back to your book. Read a few more chapters, and probably another one after that, and it’ll be sunset. We can go to Paradise Valley and buy what’s left to fill the nursery.” He kisses me. “A rocking chair for our bedroom isn’t a bad idea, either.”
“Good thinking. I need more sleep than you, so you might as well pick something out that you’re more than willing to sit in for hours, rocking our daughter back to sleep.”
Lucas puts both his hands on my stomach. “I want you to get a full night’s sleep as often as you can, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to the sleepless nights. I’ve walked this earth for nearly two thousand years. The two years we’ll face with a baby is nothing.”
“It’s going to go by fast, I know.” I stand on my toes and kiss him, feeling calmed again. “I’ll get my book and read in the living room. Not sure what you’re doing, but you’re welcome to sit by me and keep me company.”
“I have emails to reply to,” he tells me. “I’ll meet you there.” He moves his hands to my butt and gives my cheeks a squeeze. “I love you, Callie King.”
“And I love you, Lucas King.” I smile and give him a quick kiss before breaking apart. He speeds into the office, and I rest a hand on my stomach, going from the living room to the foyer and out the front door. My book is on the swing, and in my haste to greet Betty, I didn’t mark my page. I stand soaking in the remaining sunlight as I flip through my book, trying to find my page.
I’m still flipping through pages when the sound of hoofbeats comes from the gravel drive. I close my eyes in a long blink, telling myself to get it the fuck together, but the sound rebounds off the trees. Snapping my head up, there’s no mistaking the rider in front of me, who’s fully in this world and not half-hidden on the astral plane.
It’s War, and he brandishes his sword, dark eyes meeting mine for a heartbeat. And then he charges.