Page 60 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five

I know he’s right.

“If I do that,” I start, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach, “will you come with me?”

He opens his mouth to answer but then quickly clamps it shut again as his gaze darts up to the door. He lurches out of the booth. I spin around on the bench, following his alertness and find Arion walking up to the diner.

Oh shit.

I hurry out of the booth wanting to be on my feet. Bran steps in front of me, shielding me from my brother as he pulls the door open, the bell chiming to ring out his entrance.

Stanley is suddenly beside me, a plate in hand, a crispy grilled cheese steaming beside a pile of fresh fries. “Not here,” he warns Arion.

Arion, Lord of the Summer Court, looks down at Stanley. “I have no intention of fighting.”

“Then what is your intention?” Bran asks.

Arion takes one step to the left so he can look at me over the broad line of Bran’s shoulder. He swallows hard, tension showing in the fine lines around his eyes right before he sinks to one knee on the grimy black and white checkered floor of The Greasy Spoon.

He bows his head and I think I might cry at this display of deference. “I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you, my sister, heir apparent to the Winter Court.”

There’s an audible gasp from the crowd that has formed behind us.

My heart is racing in my chest.

Arion looks up, new fire in his eyes. “On one condition.”

I lick my lips, take a deep breath. “What is it?”

“When it comes to the Summer Queen, it will be me and my blade that kills her.”

Episode Ninety-Two

A FAIR AND HONEST QUEEN

I thought Arion wanted redemption, but now, looking down on him bending one knee to me in The Greasy Spoon, I see only the sharp want of revenge.

Maybe there’s space for both for him. Maybe, in his position, there is not one without the other.

“You want to kill the Summer Queen?” I ask him. I want to be sure I’m not mishearing. Misunderstanding. I want to be extra clear that what he wants is also what I want so we can move forward.

“Yes.” He gives me a curt nod to emphasize the answer.

“What changed your mind?”

The rest of the customers at The Greasy Spoon are watching, completely riveted. I can hear something bubbling in the fryer in back, but the air is taking on the scent of burning potatoes. Stanley is beside me, plate in hand, the white ceramic overwhelmed by a thick grilled cheese and a giant pile of fresh fries.

“You gave me compelling evidence,” Arion answers. His nostrils flare, shoulders leveling in a tense straight line. “And if I’m completely honest, I always had my suspicions about Maven. The fact that the queen circumvented the truth about his lineage in order to skip me in the royal line of ascension is—” his teeth clench “—unforgivable.”

“I agree,” Bran says.

Arion’s gaze shifts to Bran standing beside me. I don’t think my brother likes Bran much, but there is a softening in the hard lines around his eyes.

“Get up,” I say. “There’s no need for you to be on the floor when we’re both destined for thrones.”

Making this bold statement sends butterflies skittering through my stomach.

Sometimes it still catches me off guard. All of it really. That I have a brother. That he’s fae. That I’m supposed to inherit a fae throne of my own.

I can almost see it, he and I coming together in the fae realm, restoring the balance. Becoming friends even.

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