Page 73 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Three

I dare to look over my shoulder and catch sight of Julian taking a seat two tiers up. But he’s noticeably alone.

My stomach drops.

Carl rubs his hands together again. “Now, I know many of you are familiar with the Pledge Code, and this part will bore you to death, but my boss makes me do it. Of course, my boss is the law.” He laughs to himself. There is a weak chorus of laughter behind us.

“As soon as we get through this part, we can move on to the fun stuff!” Carl opens a book in front of him and starts reading from one of the passages. He’s not lying—the Pledge Code is boring and dry and if I wasn’t so keyed up, I would be sleeping by now.

Bran gives me another squeeze. I lean into him and whisper into his ear. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Mouse.”

Carl flips a page and continues.

I catch sight of Bianca on the other side of Bran, her big, wide eyes searching as much of the room as she can from her vantage point in the front.

Beside me, Damien is still as water, but I sense an underlying tension in his body.

Finally, Carl reads the last of the code from his book—blah blah a Pledge agrees to show his or her house the utmost respect and be a stand-up representative of his or her chosen House.

When he shuts the book with a thud, I have a hard time taking in a full breath.

This is happening.

It’s really happening.

“Now!” Carl booms. “We’ll start with House bids and will conduct opening bids in alphabetical order.” He steps back where the wall has been divided into twelve sections, each with a button and an old-fashioned light bulb above it with the House name in bold, block letters.

“Abernathy,” Carl calls. Witches. There is silence in the room for a beat and then Carl goes to the next house. “Bowen.” Silence again.

We make it through several more houses before finally reaching Duval House and when Carl calls out the name, both Damien and Bran stand up.

“We would like to formally bid on Jessie MacMahon to be a member of our house,” Damien says.

“Excellent!” Carl taps at the button for Duval House. The old-fashioned light bulb glows bright gold before Carl calls out the next name. “Locke House.”

Fuck.

Behind us, Julian stands up and I hear the shuffle of papers. “Before I formally make my bid,” Julian says, “I’d like to submit to the court a promissory note from her mother.”

“What?” I shout.

Bran grabs my hand and holds me in my seat.

Carl frowns and makes his way up two tiers to retrieve this supposed promissory note. He squints as he reads. “Interesting. Did you have this authenticated?”

“I did. I had it authenticated by both the human court and by the Renshaw witches.” Julian hands over a second piece of paper.

I lurch from my seat. Bran reaches out for me, but for once, I’m able to dodge him. “Fuck you, Julian,” I yell.

The crowd takes in a collective breath.

“That’s probably a lie just like my sister’s blood license. Or did you compel my mother too? Make her your puppet?” Anger and frustration and fear are pounding through my veins. I don’t know what else to do other than to lash out. “I’m not Pledging to your house. Fuck you and fuck the Lockes, and you can fuck off!”

The scandal of it all races through the room. People are snickering and openly gaping.

If they wanted a show, they’re about to get one.

Julian’s teeth grind together. There is a tell-tale twitch at the corner of his mouth and glowing ire in his blue eyes.

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