Page 110 of The Blood Witch

“I didn’t want her to come,” Alastair answered. “I don’t want her involved in this. This isn’t her world.”

Oh. It hurt to see his brother here, alone. Hurt more to know that he wanted to share so little of his life with his family.

Callum liked Fey. He had wanted her to be here tonight, to share in their mourning. To help bridge the gap their father had made between Alastair and the rest of the family.

As always, Alastair was drawing a line in the sand, with his family on one side and himself on the other.

But that would have to end, eventually.

“We need to talk, Alastair,” Callum started, in a calm voice. “About what happens next.”

Alastair didn’t look up when he answered.

“No.”

You can’t ever make things easy, can you, brother?Callum thought with a frustrated sigh. “You can’t just say no, brother.”

“Okay,” his brother said, voice flat. “Then how about fuck no?”

Callum’s temper flared. “Stop it. Stop this foolishness right now. We’re at his funeral, for Goddess’s sake. You can’t hide anymore, Alastair. The deSanguine title will pass on to you whether you like it or not. You’re going to have to step up and lead this family, brother. You can’t just keep pretending it won’t happen. We need you.”

I need you. Callum thought. He swallowed the words down.

Alastair smirked, still staring down at the body of their father, and for a moment Callum wondered if this was how their father had looked when he was young. So cold and so angry.

“It already has passed, Callum,” Alastair said, interrupting his thoughts. “It passed the moment he died. It always does. You’re the only one stupid enough to not have noticed, you know that?”

Callum frowned. No, no, that couldn’t be right. If the title had passed, he would be feeling it right now. But, standing here, directly next to his brother, he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t feel that pull, that drawhis father had commanded, coming from Alastair. That whirlpool of power. Alastair felt… just like Alastair, like he always had, to Callum. Which meant he was wrong. The title hadn’t passed.

“I don’t understand,” Callum said, suspicious.

“Who did the other families call first, when his body was found?” Alastair asked.

Callum’s breath caught.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he told Alastair, refusing to even contemplate it. “Everyone knows how you felt about him.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Alastair conceded. “But that’s not why they called you first. Not why they looked to you to arrange his funeral. And you know it.”

No. Callum shook his head. There was no way Alastair was right in what he was suggesting… no possible way…

“No,” Callum insisted. “You’re his heir. Father knew that. Hell, everyone knows that. The title follows power. Father, Delilah, you. You are the next head of this family, Alastair. You are the next deSanguine.”

“Look around you, brother,” Alastair said, almost gently.

He did. Callum looked around the grounds, where the most powerful Vampires in their family were gathered. The most powerful Vampires in the realm, representatives from all the Vampire families. They were all looking at him, all gathered here, under the stars and the sky that refused to weep, so they could seehim… not his father.

Not Alastair.

“I kept telling you that you would be stronger than me,” Alastair was saying as Callum looked around at the faces of the crowd. Looked at how they had positioned themselves to face him, to watch him. As though the universe itself held him at its center. “I told you over and over, but you never really believed it, did you?”

No. He hadn’t. It was impossible to even consider he could be stronger than Alastair. No one was stronger than Alastair.

And yet…

“Congratulations, Callum Salvatore deSanguine,” his brother said, putting a hand on his shoulder. And smiling at him. “Don’t fuck it up.”

Chapter 50