Page 53 of The Baritone's Rival

The road stretched out in front of him as Trent sank into the cushy leather seat. He glanced over at the muscular red headed coven master in the driver’s seat. The vampire hadn’t said a word since they got on the highway. Trent looked down at his phone. Hopefully, there would be service soon, so he wouldn’t have to stare awkwardly out the window, thinking about how intimidating Freddie Grosvenor was.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“What will happen to Justin?” Trent asked.

The powerful vampire raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. He replied in his deep, British-accented voice.

“He will be dealt with.”

Trent shook his head. Vampires. Why did everything have to be dramatic? And end in death?

“What does that mean?” he asked, figuring that the coven master would tell him to shut up if he didn’t want to talk.

“We’ll speak with him. We’ll determine the severity of the offense and follow our laws. Betraying a fellow vampire and his mate is no small misdemeanor.” Freddie spoke matter-of-factly, as if this were a typical day of business. Maybe it was for him.

“His aunt was taken hostage,” Trent said. “That has to be a mitigating circumstance.”

Freddie glanced over at Trent. He felt naked under the gaze of Freddie’s piercing green eyes. “Perhaps. Do you wish to advocate for Justin? His actions almost led to your death.”

“I just know what it’s like,” Trent said, picking away at his pant leg with his fingers as he spoke. “To face an impossible choice.”

“And…?”

“Justin and Oscar have a history. I’m already depriving Oscar of his mate. I wouldn’t want him to lose his friend as well.”

“Ah.”

They sat in silence as Trent stared at the evergreen boughs flying by on the side of the highway. At one point, they passed a small family of turkeys waddling around in the ditch parallel to the freeway. Their clumsy, round bodies made him chuckle.

It had been many years since Trent lived anywhere but a city. He hadn’t missed the countryside, but there was a part of him that yearned for the peace of nature.

“Has Oscar told you about his time in the old Azarian coven?”

The question jolted Trent into the present. He thought back to things Oscar had said.

“Some. I know that the younger vampires were starved. That he kept the sickest of them safe when the coven fell apart.”

“When Anthony, Lillian, and I found Oscar, he had set traps for us.”

“What?” Oscar was smart, but this seemed completely out of character for the flirty, flighty singer. Even if he’d recently discovered there were more layers to Oscar than Trent had initially thought, that sounded like some spy movie shit.

“Well, not specifically for us, I suppose. He kept the other vampires safe by booby-trapping the entrance to the floor of the covenhouse they were holed up in. A homemade aerosol torch,spring-loaded knives…it was fairly impressive. When we went in, he set himself as a shield between us and the rest of them.”

“Alone?” Trent asked.

“By then, they’d been so starved that Oscar was the only one conscious.” A pained expression crossed the stoic coven master’s face. “He had kept them alive by feeding them small amounts of his own blood. The others were all in comas. By force of will, somehow Oscar was still standing.” Freddie’s voice hummed with a low undercurrent of grief and anger. “It…it was horrific.”

“Oh.” Trent didn’t know what to say. “Why…why are you telling me this?”

“Because I thought you should know who he is. The party boy facade is a new development. It’s a reaction to the trauma of what happened, a way to hold the world at arm’s length. When I first met him, he was starving and trying to keep his covenmates alive. He was intelligent and resourceful. And terrified. For the first six months after we found him, he woke up screaming every night. He cares a great deal.”

Trent crossed his arms, squeezing them hard against himself. He hated how raw everything had felt recently. Before now, he’d used his hyperfocus as a shield, keeping any problems at bay. But since Oscar, he was one man-sized exposed nerve.

“I’m starting to see that. I just worry…I can’t give him what he needs.”

“I know about the Madison coven,” Freddie said.

Trent flinched at Freddie’s words. “Why? What do you mean?” He didn’t like to think about his “home” coven.

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