Page 71 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

Arcadia only made it about an hour before she disappeared into the woods. She still smells like apple blossoms, and I feel validated every time I catch her scent. Wade, Sue, and Val left with the kids a little after midnight—and yes, there were tears.

It’s left the rest of us catching up around the large wooden table, surrounded by the remnants of Sue’s welcome home feast—empty glasses and plates scattered across it.

We’re all enjoying the Colton show, and he’s in the middle of one of his stories, his voice animated as he spins yet another tale that seems to involve him and Vivien touring every bar and tavern in Dae.

Colt’s grin is infectious, his eyes twinkling as he gestures broadly. “… and then the owner came out, pointing at ‘The no deals after sundown’ sign, acting like he’d never seen a vampire before…”

Vivien, sitting just across from him, doesn’t miss a beat as she interjects dryly, “Again, he hadn’t.”

Colt lets out a laugh, raising his eyebrows at her, but it’s obvious he’s enjoying the challenge. “Don’t be jealous, Crackerjack. It ain’t my fault the demons liked me better.”

Vivien rolls her eyes, leaning back, her voice laced with mock exasperation. “Sure, sure, Colton. Keep telling yourself that.”

The banter between them is easy, almost flirtatious, and it draws laughs from the rest of the group—except Grayson. Did I say we were all enjoying Colt’s stories? Because Grayson definitely isn’t. He sits a little removed, his expression growing darker with each tale of his chyld’s debauchery.

I’ve tried. Sunday has, too. We’ve all fucking tried to shake him out of his mood, to get him to concentrate on the fact his chyld is home, safe, and, at least according to Ben, seeming happier than usual. But he’s stubborn, and he wants to drag her away and keep her to himself. Maybe it’s a Maker/chyld thing. Thank the moon Goddess Sunday and I can both feel there’s nothing remotely sexual about it. It’s all dark possession.

Suddenly, Grayson stands, his movements sharp, and announces, “We need to take our leave if we expect to be back at the house before sunrise.”

Vivien and Colt exchange a glance, and Vivien’s gaze flicks downward before she speaks. “I think I’m going to stay here tonight.”

Grayson’s response is immediate and absolute. “No, you absolutely are not. Let’s go. Say goodbye to your pet and gather your things.” Dias, why is he being such a cerote?

Sunday’s eyes flash, her voice sharp with anger. “What the hell, Gray? How dare you speak that way to her or about my brother? Am I your pet, too?”

Grayson turns to Sunday, his expression hardening, his voice dismissive. “Oh, come on.” His sarcasm is mean and belittling.“They aren’t serious, they aren’t like us. Take umbrage if you must, but Vivien is coming back to our home.”Umbrage? Shit’s getting serious.

Vivien stands up abruptly, grabbing Grayson by the arm, surprisingly strong as she pushes him ahead of her, guiding him through the kitchen and out the door.

“We’ll be back in a moment,” she calls over her shoulder. “Please, talk amongst yourselves.” She gives the rest of us a tight, controlled smile. The door slams shut behind them.

Ah. So that’s why Grayson picked her. She’d have to be able to stand up to him, or he would’ve grown bored of her centuries ago. Sunday is frowning.

“Colt, what have you done?”

“Me? Nothin’. Just made the best of a bad situation.”

They’re gone long enough that Tomas glances at the door, his brows furrowing as he wonders aloud if he should intervene. But before he can move, the door swings open, and they return.

Grayson is shaking with anger, smoke curling down his arms, leaving faint smoky footprints behind him as he stalks across the floor.

Sunday, meanwhile, has taken to cleaning up the remnants of the meal, her nervous energy driving her to stress-clean. Plates are already stacked, and the table’s mostly cleared. She glances up, her gaze flicking between Vivien and Grayson, then presses her lips together, a frown creasing her forehead.

Tomas steps forward, his voice carefully level. “Maybe it’s best if we head out now. We can drive over to the farm. The vampire suite is ready and we can be there is under ten minutes.”

Grayson pauses, turning towards Tomas, his brows knitting in confusion, then back to Vivien. “Fine. But we will be returning right after dusk tomorrow.” He starts for the door then hesitates. “Wait, what farm?”

Chapter Twenty Nine

The Emperor has no Clothes

— Grayson —

Frustration hums beneath my skin, a mosquito-whine I can’t escape. It sharpens the hollow ache gnawing at my core, an emptiness that grows deeper with every passing moment. Vivien would say I’m hangry—but she’d have to be here to say it.And she most certainly fucking isn’t.

She’s here, yes. I feel her bond pulsing with satisfaction, but she’s not with me. It’s like she’s holding a piece of herself back, just far enough that I can only ache for it. After everything, after the endless time apart, the thought of going to my day death without her lilac scent wrapping around me, without her head resting on my chest—it twists something ugly and raw inside me.

It makes my monster want to tear free, to rip her redneck distraction to pieces. It wants Viv to submit, to acknowledge her place as my chyld. To remember who we are.

---