Vouclade drew an irritated breath, a sign his patience was diminishing. “I’m very serious, Kerestyan. Logan is intelligent, forthright, and has lived a life closer to that of a peasant than most modern humans ever will. And for the most part, aside from her addiction, she appears to have lived it successfully. She has no real aversion to our kind, has a survival instinct that would rival any young vampire’s, but also realizes sometimes survival means bending to outside forces. I believe she has at least a fifty percent chance of becoming our newest sibling.”

While Kerestyan struggled to digest the seriousness in Vouclade’s tone, Odin could barely choke the words out between hysterical bursts of laughter. “Dad’s not gonna turn her. Make her a Servio, maybe. But he’s not gonna put the bite on her.” He waved a flailing arm at Vouclade. “You’re crazy.”

The lethal set of Vouclade’s eyes said he didn’t appreciate Odin’s dismissal. “Serving a Nelek in blood is almost as dangerous as being a Nelek in blood. Need I call Alfred to explain why your laughter is completely uncalled for?”

Odin quickly sobered. “Hell no, he’ll kick my ass.”

“Thank you for illustrating my point.” Apparently finished with Odin, Vouclade turned to face Kerestyan. “Since you have no real intention of killing her, I suggest you start the process of purging her system immediately. Father will not look favorably upon her unless her blood is free of impurities.”

Kerestyan ground his teeth together. “I haven’t made up my mind as to whether this life suits her yet. She’s already detached from humanity. Suffering the dark urges of the beast in any capacity, be it as a servant or a full-fledged vampire, may only degrade her further.”

Vouclade’s gaunt frame flickered between solid and insubstantial, a clear sign his patience had reached its end. “Spare me your misplaced concern for her humanity,” he sneered. “You may have begun your association with her intending to take her life, but that ended the moment you brought her into your home. And if by chance it didn’t,” he raked Kerestyan with a knowing glare, “it certainly did the moment she stepped into the kitchen.” He moved through the table to stand in front of Kerestyan. “As it stands, above all else, Logan is a breach of the Veil. She knows we exist and she shouldn’t. That fact doesn’t change simply because she’s in your home. Her presence here only assures she can’t run to the media or human authorities.”

Kerestyan straightened to his full height and met his brother’s intimidating stare. “I’m well aware of what bringing her into my home does and does not mean. I am the Lord of New York, Vouclade.”

“Then start acting like it,” he growled. “It’s clear you have some sort of interest in her, and due to her extensive exposure to vampires her mind cannot be fixed without risk of major damage. You’re left with one option, whether you like it or not. Clean her up, explain to her how much more dangerous her situation has become, and then take her to the real Lord Nelek. If we’re lucky and she passes his tests, he’ll accept her as a Nelek Child or Servio.”

Kerestyan steadied himself as the beast in his stomach unfurled and crimson danced at the edges of his vision. While he believed Logan to be an exception to the modern human rule, that didn’t mean his Father would. “You’re only giving her a fifty percent chance. What if she doesn’t pass his tests?”

“Then she dies, Kerestyan. But the blame for her death, should it come to that, lies at both of your feet. She allowed the degradation of this city, the breakdown of society combined with the vice available on every pathetic corner, to affect her. However, you alone bear the burden of allowing ignorance to flourish among the Fledglings you allow to exist.” He jammed a ghostly finger into Kerestyan’s chest. “You are just as responsible for Logan’s situation as she is.”

“You think every Fledgling is ignorant, Vouclade,” Kerestyan snapped as he knocked his brother’s hand away. “You also never, in any time period, approved of this city. Your opinion is biased by old, stagnant views, which is exactly why I took a city full of Fledglings. I may be partly responsible for Logan’s misfortune, but I’m not going to slaughter droves of young vampires who have nothing to do with this situation, simply for existing.”

Vouclade’s eyes snapped with grey fire. “You are just as ignorant as your Fledglings.”

“Hey Mr. Mad Scientist, why don’t you fuck off and leave my brother…” Odin didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, mainly because Vouclade snapped out a boney hand and severed his tongue.

Vouclade used Odin’s tongue to punctuate his own words. “The next time you address me as such, you childish waste of blood, I’ll remove your nervous system while you watch.” He turned back to Kerestyan. “I’ll be advising Father of Logan’s situation. If I were you, I’d prepare to hear from him.” Having spit his last bit of venom, Vouclade disappeared in a cold gust of wind.

Kerestyan stared down at the empty space in front of him. Sometimes the second eldest of the Nelek Children caused more trouble than he was worth. However, much to Kerestyan’s dismay, there was little he could do to change the views of someone as old as Vouclade.

Forcing the thought from his mind, he pulled a towel from the rack by the sink and held it out for Odin. “How many times has he done that to you?”

Odin grabbed the towel and grinned as small rivulets of blood dribbled from his lips. “Aouw unce ah eek or en ousan eers.”

“About once a week for ten thousand years?” When he nodded, Kerestyan shook his head. Only Odin would have such an extended learning curve. “Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?”

He dabbed at his mouth then tipped his head back and laughed. “O.”

In an attempt to calm his nerves, Kerestyan seized the opportunity to laugh with his brother. But what the familiar action couldn’t wash away was the realization that, as much as it burned him, Vouclade was right about some of the accusations he’d made.

He felt more than just a temporary curiosity for Logan. There was something about her blatant honesty he respected, something about not being able to anticipate what she’d do or say next that excited his weary blood.

Unfortunately, neither of those qualities would assist her when it came to his Father.

Kerestyan leaned back against the counter and considered the silvered track lights cutting across the white ceiling. By now, Vouclade had returned to the castle and was no doubt ranting about the state of New York and Logan’s situation. And if Vouclade was persuasive enough, which he often was, Kerestyan would be lucky if his Father didn’t appear and judge Logan on the spot.

He rubbed a hand down his face. How was he going to explain to her that she had to relinquish yet another facet of her life? While he didn’t approve of her drug use, he respected her choice and despised merely the thought of taking that choice away.

Then give her a choice…

He lowered his head when he felt a heavy hand squeeze his shoulder, only to find Odin’s smiling black eyes staring back at him. “Ont wuhwee, bo. Sill be awite.”

Kerestyan did his best to return the reassuring gesture. For once, he just hoped his brother was right.

Chapter 5

Logan slipped through her cracked bedroom door and crept down the hall towards the kitchen. She had no idea what was so damn funny that she could hear the chorus of hearty laughter through the walls, but she had every intention of finding out.

When she reached the end of the hallway, she flattened herself against the wall and peeked around the corner. Odin, with a rag stuffed in his mouth, made all manner of odd noises while Kerestyan, eyes twinkling under the gentle track lighting, twisted a black wine bottle setting in one of the odd appliances she didn’t recognize.

Reminiscent of a fancy silver bowl, instead of tapering near the bottom the machine belled out into black rubber feet. The digital panel centered on the front read 88.2, but the glowing red numbers quickly changed. When the contraption emitted a loud beep as the number reached 99.0, Kerestyan pulled the bottle out, popped the cork then handed it to Odin.

“Warmed to your distinguished preference, Sir,” Kerestyan laughed, with a bad English accent.

Odin pulled the towel from his mouth, grabbed the bottle and wrapped his lips around it like a hooker who’d just been paid five thousand dollars to suck off a professional athlete.

Logan mulled the scene over for a minute. This was what they were doing? She’d been herded back to her room for a time-out so they could laugh like idiots and drink themselves into a wine induced stupor?

At least it’s not whiskey. She shivered as an icy chill slipped down her spine in response to the errant thought. At thirteen, she may not have known how to properly express how she felt to her father. Now thirty, her prowess for self expression was quite the opposite.

She pushed around the corner and locked eyes with Kerestyan. “This is why you sent me to my room? So you and your brother could get wasted in the kitchen?”

Every ounce of humor drained from his face. “It’s not what it looks like, Logan.”