Page 82 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Tomas

Good News: The Marchese Gulfstream G650 is on its way here.

Bad News: We may need it sooner than you’d think. DuFour has summoned us. We’re required at the palace to swear fealty by tomorrow at midnight.

Worse News: Intel from Vegas—TX plans to marry LA. He wants X back.

A slow breath escapes me, smoke curling from my lips as my fangs slip from their sheaths. Anger rolls through me, dark and unrelenting. This is the last thing we need. The Councilbreathing down our necks. Roxana plotting her next move. And now DuFour demanding we kneel.

I refuse to imagine my Little Cat anywhere near Winston Cavanaugh.

DuFour’s demand is a power play, a maneuver I can’t afford to ignore. If Texas aligns with Louisiana, it’s not just about Xavier—it’s a consolidation of power that leaves us all vulnerable, the Prescotts included.

This is bad.Next-level bad.

I may need to take control of the Louisiana Territories just to protect us all. Texas thinks my aversion to leadership will hold, but he doesn’t understand.

For once, I’mallin.

I almost text Rurik, just to see if he’d drop by for another coup. I’m sure he’ll use any excuse to see his Little Sun.

Fuck.

I lob my phone across the room. I need to get out of here. Twenty-seven minutes until sunset. This is absurd.

The door’s locked until sundown. I understand why—there are children running about now—but it makes me feel like I’m right back in Roxana’s cage, trapped and powerless. I push off the couch, pacing the length of the room. To pass the time, I slip into my bondspace.

Sunday’s presence is bubbly and bright nearby, but not right upstairs—she’s probably with her brother. Xavier feels like they’re playing, maybe with Mishka or Ben.

I reach for Vivien’s bond. Still dead. As she should be. The conclusion is inescapable—whatever magic in Sunday’s blood wakes me early and shields me from the sun, Colton’s blood lacks it.

So much for hoping Vivien might rise early.

My fingers move across the screen. A quick message to the group chat:

Gray

Is anyone up there?

The silence stretches, my temper simmering hotter with each second. I’m an ancient vampire of the strongest bloodline, and I can’t even leave this damned room.

A vibration snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance down.

Sunday

Someone’s an early bird. I’m in the car. We’ll be there soon, I promise. Just hang tight, okay?

I let out a slow breath, leaning back against the wall, trying to let the tension go. Sunday’s voice—even in text—has a way of cutting through the fog, pulling me back from the edge. I can almost hear her: that soft, teasing lilt that makes it feel like everything’s going to be fine.

But the rage doesn’t entirely subside. It simmers beneath my skin, a restless heat I can’t extinguish. The longer I wait, the more it gnaws at me—anger at being trapped, at the world moving on without me, and at the thoughts I can’t shake about Tomas.

My phone buzzes again. A new text pops up, and it takes me a moment to focus on the screen—a sure sign my eyes are turning red.

Little Cat

Whoa, WTF RU doing to Smoky??

I blink. Their unexpected levity cuts through the haze, and for a moment, I feel something almost like amusement.Almost.

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