Page 21 of Claim of Blood
Leo choked on a sob. “Thirty-second.”
“Unit.”
Leo’s body convulsed with the final surrender. “Three-two-two-eight.”
The moment the words left him, Leo collapsed fully, breath tearing ragged from his lungs. His forehead met the carpet, arms limp at his sides. The weight of the command, the bond, the shame—all of it pressed him down like gravity had turned hostile.
Around the chamber, Council members moved with speed and purpose. Phones were drawn, tablets activated, fingers flying across glass as orders were dispatched and protocols engaged. The Montclair was no longer a hiding place. It was a target.
Adam remained where he was. Still. Staring down at Leo.
He wanted to kneel beside him. Wanted to brush the sweat from his brow, to pull him upright, to take back what he’d done.
But he couldn’t.
The Court was watching.
Leo stayed hunched, trembling, breath stuttering in and out like a dying engine. His fingers twitched against the floor. His body reeked of fear and exertion and something close to grief.
Adam stepped back. Slowly. Carefully. Then turned, his spine rigid, and walked the long curve of the table back to his seat.
By the time he lowered himself into the chair, he no longer felt like a king.
He felt like a man who had broken something he wasn’t sure he could fix.
“Who sent you?” Ilona demanded. “The Vatican?”
Leo didn’t lift his head. His voice was hoarse but steady. “No. The main branch. In Germany.”
“The von Rothenburgs still answer to them?” Gaspard asked, one eyebrow arching.
“We are the main branch,” Leo said. “Or part of it. My uncle takes orders directly.”
“Orders to do what?” Maja asked.
Leo hesitated. His eyes flicked up, just once, to Adam.
“They identified Adam as being... one of the oldest. A direct creation.” He swallowed hard. “They wanted confirmation.”
“Confirmation for what purpose?” Oren’s voice was quiet, but it dropped into the chamber like a stone into deep water.
Leo closed his eyes. “Death,” he said. “They consider him a threat to humanity. Too powerful. Too old. They don’t believe vampires like him should exist.”
Adam didn’t react outwardly, but inside, something went cold. He’d been hunted before. He’d been feared. But this wasn’t retribution. This was extermination.
“And your role?” Maja pressed, her voice tight.
“Surveillance. Just that. I was assigned to track his movements. Confirm his identity. Establish routines—when he left, when he fed, who he saw. Nothing else. I reviewed my observations with my uncle, who sent daily reports back to the main branch.”
“And you were told nothing more?” Gaspard asked.
“Not at my level,” Leo said, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t senior enough. They wanted to confirm he was Amenemhat. That was all I knew.”
The boy wasn’t lying. Every beat of Leo’s heart said truth.
“When?” Oren asked. One word. Heavy with intent.
Leo’s body tensed. “I heard them mention the Summer Solstice,” he breathed. “They were frustrated. Said they couldn’t find the celebration site.”
