Page 13 of The Maestro's Mates
“My mother is a good leader, maybe a great one even, but she is a mediocre mom. It’s not unusual. Being Eldest of a Circle is an all-consuming job, one in which the interests of any individual witch can and should be sacrificed to the care of the group. My mother extended that expedient approach even to raising her own children.”
Sebastian sighed. That was enough, wasn’t it? They didn’t need more. He glanced over at Justin. Sebastian caught a glimpse of compassion in his expression. His chest warmed a little at the sight.
“I don’t need to get into the specifics,” Sebastian said, “but suffice it to say my sister Veronica did not appreciate being used as a pawn and a bargaining chip. She left the Circle six years ago, going far enough away that Mother could no longer trace her. But two years ago, she returned.”
Freddie, Anthony, and Justin were all leaning forward now, their eyes alight with interest.
“At first, we hoped she had matured. My mother, in spite of her flaws, loves Veronica and had hoped she could be welcomed into the Circle once again. But Veronica has made it clear she is only back to unseat my mother and take over as Eldest.”
Justin shook his head in confusion. “How can your sister be Eldest? She can’t be that much older than you. And you’re so young and attractive!”
Justin’s hands went to his mouth in shock at what he’d said. Sebastian chuckled and winked, which made Justin’s face take on a pink hue.
“Eldest doesn’t denote age. It’s the title of the leader of the Circle. Often the Eldest is the oldest person in the Circle, but it’s not required.” Sebastian couldn’t resist adding, “And I think you’re attractive as well.”
The pink deepened to a beet red as Justin’s eyes darted toward the nearby door. Not wanting to let Justin run away, Sebastian sat back down on the sofa next to him, leaning into him. The vamp was strung as tight as a guitar string.
Sebastian leaned over and whispered into Justin’s ear. “Breathe, darling. You’re going to pass out.”
Justin took in a loud, deep breath, which turned into a fit of coughing. Sebastian patted his back. “You’re okay.”
“I, uh, sorry, um, may I be excused?”
Freddie opened his mouth to respond, but Anthony cut him off, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “I’d love for you to stay, Justin.”
Justin nodded and looked down at his hands, folded in his lap.
“What do you expect of us?” Freddie asked, the corners of his lips curling up slightly at Justin’s embarrassment. “And what do we get in return?”
Sebastian wrenched his attention away from his wayward mate. Time for the sales pitch.
“The Circle can be a powerful ally. We can provide information. Our spirits bring us word of many things. We can erect wards that will prevent vampires who are not of yourcoven from using their powers in the covenhouse, or keep everyone but the coven members out.”
“Mmm.” Freddie’s eyes were two bright searchlights peering into Sebastian’s soul. Few things intimidated him, but this coven master managed to be both welcoming and terrifying at the same time.
“And what do you need from us?” Freddie asked.
“We’d love for you to share information as well.” Sebastian was tempted to downplay the biggest point, but if the Grosvenor Coven was to be their ally, honesty was the best policy. “But most of all, we need your strength if we are attacked. Witches have many ways to protect themselves, but many of us are limited in direct combat.”
“And will you guarantee the same?” Anthony asked. It was the first time that evening the coven master’s mate had asked a question about the agreement. It made sense. Those in Anthony’s position were known to be fiercely protective of their vampires.
“As much as we may.” Sebastian pressed his lips together. “Few witches have affinities that are useful in a fight. But if your coven is attacked, we will use whatever is available to us to help.”
Freddie stood, and for the first time, Sebastian saw how tall he was. The vampire was a giant, well over six feet tall. Was he looming on purpose?
“Very well.”
No one spoke for a moment. Finally, Justin found his voice. “What does that mean? Do you have to go to Bayonne?”
“No,” Freddie answered. “I don’t go. Not yet.”
“I don’t understand.” Justin turned back to Sebastian, brows furrowed in confusion.
“I have served as envoy to your coven tonight. The old ways dictate the coven must send an envoy back. Then a final meeting can be arranged.”
“Oh.”
Freddie strode over to a nearby cedar hutch, uncorking a bottle of blood-red wine and filling up a stemmed glass. Or was it actually blood? Sebastian wasn’t sure.
