Page 2 of Isaiah and Jameson
1
“It doesn’t look good, Isaiah. You have to choose someone.” Aunt Bedelia was getting her banshee on, wasn’t she? “You’re the head of the family. Of the whole band. You cannot be solitary. There’s already talk of you being weak.”
The temptation to squawk about being gay was huge, but the simple fact was that wasn’t an issue. One of his brothers and two of his sisters had been queer. He was never—NEVER—supposed to rule. He was the seventh son, the baby. The worthless one who would have gone to the sun back in the Dark Ages.
But one plane crash in the Rockies had taken Mother and Father, along with his sisters and two of his brothers. His other two brothers had been shattered, had literally walked out into samesaid New Mexico sun with a group of their clan and it was all over.
Now he was the last one, with a handful of frightened, angry older family that needed him to make everything better.
Fuck his life.
He forced himself to snarl, to stand over Bedelia and stare her down. “Let me remind you who survived. I will not stand anyone questioning my place.”
Because goddess knew he didn’t know what to do if he was overthrown and tossed out. He’d never even bitten a real human. Live feeding was a completely foreign idea.
She lowered her gaze, her long neck bending gracefully. “Of course. But—”
“No.” Isaiah had this handled. His… new companion would arrive tomorrow and the family would be pleased with his supposed choice. “No more.”
He’d made an arrangement with his good friend, Harve the Angel, and someone was coming who could be exactly what he needed.
A beard.
He grinned. That was so the perfect answer. An actor. Someone who would be on his payroll. No one needed to know that he wasn’t a typical dominant asshole vampire clan leader.
So long as the beard was kind and willing to put on a show, they should get along like a house afire.
“Are you ready for the board meeting, then?” she asked.
“Auntie, I have this.” And what he didn’t have, his dearest friend Jo did. She lived for business. She would whip the board into any shape he wished to see them in. Maybe a dove. Or a shark.
“All right then.” Her lips quivered before stilling. “I only want to help.”
“I know.” He did, because he was her last chance to stay in with the ruling clan. If he failed, she would fall from grace completely.
“Thank you for listening.” She turned to glide into the boardroom.
“Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s get this done.”
His new paramour would be here soon and things would improve. They had to.
They could hardly get any worse.
