Page 125 of Blood and Buttercups

“Piper,now,” the super old vampire commands in a no-nonsense tone that has me hopping.

“Okay, coming.” I step into the room.

Max and Carlos deposit Ethan on the chair and then leave, closing the door behind them. It shuts with an ominous echo that makes me want to run even though I’m not the one in trouble here.

Ethan half-sits, half-lies on the chair, slumped down, about to slither right out of the hard metal seat and onto the harder stone floor. “You’re going to pay for this,” he slurs.

Cassian steps forward, looking formidable. I think I’m finally going to see the scary side I knew was lurking under his pretty exterior. “How are you feeling? Snapping out of it?”

Ethan swears a few times, his eyes flashing, and pushes himself back onto the seat.

Cassian extends his hand. “We need to have a chat, so if you could pull yourself together?—”

“You son of a…”

I blink, startled by the combination of words coming out of Ethan’s mouth. He’s usually so mild-mannered.

Cassian listens, his expression impassive, as Ethan tells him what he can do with himself—and frankly, his suggestions aren’t very nice.

I glance at Noah and find him resting against the wall, one foot pressed against the stone. His expression is grim, and he holds a stake.

“Are you finished?” Cassian asks when Ethan runs out of four-letter words. “You’re looking a bit worse for wear. Do you need coffee?”

“Can you drink coffee?” I ask Cassian, surprised.

“In moderation, yes,” he answers. “It’s mostly water.”

“Oh, right—zero calories. There’s not much actual plant in there, I guess?”

“Exactly. Teas are the same.”

“What about wine?” I gesture toward our angry captive. “I’ve seen Ethan drink it twice.”

“If the product is fermented, we can generally?—”

“Can we discuss this later?” Noah asks dryly.

“Sure.” Cassian chuckles, turning back to Ethan. “How are you feeling, champ?”

There’s something about Cassian saying “champ” in his muddled European accent that makes me snort.

Ethan turns his eyes on me, his face contorted with hurt. The genuine emotion startles me. Clearing my throat, I join Noah next to the wall.

“I think you’re feeling well enough we can begin,” Cassian says, his tone becoming businesslike. “My name is Cassian Chevalier: Prince of the Chevalier line.”

“He’sreallya prince?” I whisper to Noah.

Rolling his eyes, Noah nods.

Ignoring us, Cassian continues, “You were infected through my bloodline, and therefore, you are my problem. I am your judge and your jury. But because I’m feeling benevolent, and Piper and Olivia have returned to us unscathed, I’m going to give you two options. The first: you can give us a detailed list of your crimes, tell me who infected you, and admit who’s your contact at NIHA.”

Ethan laughs, shaking his head like he thinks this whole thing is ridiculous.

“Or I can execute you right here, as is my right, to ensure the integrity of my line.”

Ethan pales a little, but he doesn’t answer.

Cassian gestures to the corners of the room, at cameras I didn’t even notice. “Which will it be? Shall we begin recording your confession or end this now?”

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