Page 41 of Roaring Flames

I shift my attention towards Matthew, the only other person in the room.

The twins’ father crosses his arms over his chest and sighs heavily. Today, his orange hair clashes comically with his yellow suspenders and vomit-green shirt. He looks like he just graduated from clown school.

“I told you. Grayson Grey wasn’t involved in the murders,” he says.

“And how do you know that?” My father stands abruptly, his knees banging against the desk.

The picture frame topples.

I just barely capture it before it can shatter. I see my mother’s face for a fraction of a second—those green eyes that have haunted me for years now—before Father brutally yanks it out of my hands and settles it back on his desk, straightening it so it’s facing him once more.

For a man who likes to pretend his fated mate doesn’t exist, he’s awfully sentimental.

“Grayson agreed to help me with an…investigationI started,” Matthew says carefully.

Too carefully. For once, his jovial smile is nowhere to be seen.

“An investigation,” my father parrots, frowning. “He’s a human. AHunter.”

I can see how tightly he’s holding on to his control. Any second now, he’s going to detonate, and I’m not sure any of us will survive the blast.

“He’s neither.” Matthew shakes his head once, the movement causing his floppy red hair to bounce across his forehead.

For the first time since we started this meeting, I speak up. “What do you mean?”

An uneasy feeling blossoms in my stomach.

“He’s a vampire.” Matthew says those words calmly. Nonchalantly.

As if he didn’t just throw a bomb in my lap and watch it explode.

Grayson Grey…is a vampire?

A vampire has been hanging around my mate?

Not my mate. At least, not in the possessive sense. She’s not “my” anything. I made that quite clear to both her, myself, and my packmates.

So why does the thought of a vampire lurking around her fill me with such dread?

I know very little about the creatures that go bump in the night, but what Idoknow fills me with a distinct sense of unease. They’re said to be killers. Murderers. Torturers. They don’t just drink blood to survive—they do it for the thrill of it. Of course, all of that could be some urban legend passed down from generation to generation.

But still…

If there’s even a hint of truth in that…

A vampire.

A fucking vampire.

I tighten my grip around the armrests of the chair.

“How is that possible?” My father’s tone is imbued with more anger than I can remember him having in months. For once, his unflappable mask has faltered, revealing the spiteful man underneath. “We would’ve noticed?—”

“Not if he starved himself to pass as human,” Matthew counters.

Father’s jaw clenches, and he reaches for the phone on his desk. Even after all of these years, he still insists on keeping a landline. I’m not even sure if the old bastard knows what a cell phone is.

“We need to get in contact with the Elders. Now. They’re up to something.” Father’s gaze slides to me for a moment before immediately flitting away.

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