Page 38 of Because the Night

Benedict says nothing, but his gaze jumps to Lucas.

“She was killed, unfortunately.” Henry winces. “It’s a sad story. Let’s talk about it another time.”

Lucas says nothing, but his frown game is strong. He stretches an arm out along the back of the couch and starts playing with a lock of my hair. Again. He winds it around one of his fingers and tugs—just a little. It’s like I’m his fidget toy or something.

“Do all vampire families work this way?” I ask.

“Not all of them,” says Benedict. “Not every vampire wants or needs community. There are loners and nomads out there. The sire bond can be broken.”

“There are vampires who just want to vibe.” Henry crosses his legs and swings his foot back and forth. “Live and learn and experience things. Not get caught up in all of the politics andwars. What we have is a more traditional model of a family. But it’s still common enough. The major families around the world all operate similarly.”

“Okay.”

“A lot of families break apart due to infighting. Or due to the sire being an overbearing wanker,” says Henry. “But Father doesn’t tend to impose his will on us in assholish ways. And we actually all quite like each other.”

“Yes.” Benedict nods. “Mostly.”

Henry throws a silk cushion in his face. Of course, Benedict catches it and sets it aside. He rises and heads into the hallway. “I need weapons. They make such a fuss at LAX when I bring them with me.”

Henry jumps up to follow. “I’ll be interested to hear what you think of the new additions I made to the armory. The man-portable missile, in particular, looks to be an absolute hoot.”

“We’re in the middle of a city,” says Lucas. “You’re not firing any missiles, Henry.”

“I am just going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Henry,” growls Lucas.

The man sighs heartily. “Yes, Father. Fine. No missiles.”

Benedict reaches above the frame of one of the doors in the hallway. With an old key now in hand, he unlocks the door and walks inside.

“The keys were sitting above the doors the entire damn time?” I ask in a not-so-nice tone of voice.

“Yes,” says Lucas. “Everyone needs access. This is, after all, a family home.”

I have nothing. Absolutely nothing. Also, I am an idiot.

“What’s that thing on Father’s face?” asks Benedict in his low rumble of a voice.

“I believe it’s his attempt at a smile.” Henry wanders into a room that can only be described as an armory, and we all follow along behind him. “Terrifying, isn’t it?”

It’s another large room with stone walls. But these walls are covered in neat racks of killing devices. Daggers, swords, spears, bows and arrows, and so on. There are also shields and various types of armor. In the center of the room are heavy wooden chairs and a large table with brushes and cloths to clean the weapons lined up neatly. Inside a display case is a silver axe with runes etched into the metal. And there are also guns…lots of guns.

Benedict waves a hand at them and says, “But they’re so loud and messy and modern.”

“I’ve seen you in a crowd wielding a broadsword, big brother. Now that was loud and messy.”

“That was all just a misunderstanding. We laughed about it later.”

“The people who still had all of their limbs attached,” says Henry. “Sure.”

Benedict just sniffs in disdain.

Vampires are violent by nature. I get that. We’re less removed from our food source than most humans. And then there’s all of the politics and infighting to consider. But this room is a lot. “There are enough weapons in here to start a war.”

“Or to end one.” Lucas stares at the axe in its case. “But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

I wake up in Lucas’s bed again. He’s lying on his back with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. No idea what deep thoughts he might be thinking. I must have fallen asleep in the living room, listening to Henry and Benedict telling stories about the past. Despite my repeated requests for a room of my own, Lucas apparently carried me into his. Guess he still doesn’t trust me not to run amok. Which is ridiculous. Henry did delight in telling me that the vase I almost broke last night was a first-edition Wedgewood from 1793 worth approximately half a million. But I wouldn’t have almost broken it if Lucas hadn’t been chasing me in the first place, so there.

---