Page 73 of Claim of Blood
The words punched the air from Leo’s lungs. Equal in Court matters. The realization crept through him.
“I’m sorry—what?” His voice came out higher than he intended. “But I’m not even a vampire. I was a hunter two weeks ago, and now you’re telling me I outrank beings who’ve been alive for centuries?”
“The servants,” Leo said suddenly, another piece clicking into place. “The way they look at me—some with curiosity, others with...” He paused, recalling the disdainful expressions. “They think I don’t deserve it.”
“Some will,” Oren confirmed with blunt honesty. “Others will accept it. Your actions will decide which camp grows larger.”
Leo raked a hand through his hair, feeling the enormity of it press against his chest. “I don’t know anything about vampire law, or Court traditions, or basic protocol. How am I supposed to be anyone’s equal when I don’t even understand the rules?”
“You learn,” Lander said simply. “And you rely on advisors who do.” His expression grew more serious. “But Leo—this isn’t just about rank. Adam’s claim doesn’t just make you his equal. It makes you his potential successor. If something happened to him...”
The implication hung in the air. Leo felt the blood drain from his face. “I would what, inherit the Court?”
“The Court would likely fracture,” Oren said matter-of-factly. “But yes, you’d have the strongest claim to leadership. That’s why your suggestions matter. The Court needs to see you can think beyond immediate problems.”
Leo sank back against the desk, the responsibility settling over him like lead. A week ago, his biggest worry had been avoiding Adam’s attention. Now he was apparently second-in-command of a supernatural powerhouse with global reach.
“This is insane,” he muttered. He looked up at both vampires. “You’re serious? I’m actually expected to help run this place?”
“You already are,” Lander said gently. “The ward suggestion, the tactical analysis—you’re not just offering advice, Leo. You’re providing counsel that could save lives.”
Underneath the panic, something else stirred. Purpose. For the first time, his knowledge was valued for protecting supernatural creatures rather than destroying them.
“I should probably start learning, then,” he said finally, his voice steadier than he felt.
“Among other things,” Oren agreed. “But you have time. And teachers.” His lips quirked in what might have been a smile. “Adam chose well.”
“Chose,” Leo muttered under his breath. “More like compulsion, really.”
If either vampire heard him, they didn’t comment, though Lander’s mouth twitched as he turned toward the door.
Lander dipped his head in farewell to Oren, then guided Leo out. “No music,” he noted as they walked. “A good sign. Perhaps we’ve caught him before he fully committed to brooding.”
They were halfway up the sweeping staircase when the cat shifter from earlier passed them, his arms laden with fresh linens. The simple act of his passing triggered that same strange awareness in Leo—the absolute certainty of what the man was beneath his human appearance.
“Lander,” Leo began, pausing on the steps, “earlier, when Cory came into Oren’s office... I knew what he was. Not just that he was a shifter—specifically, a cat shifter. I could feel it somehow.” He frowned, trying to explain. “Like recognizing someone’s voice without seeing their face.”
Lander’s steps slowed, his expression thoughtful. “Interesting. That’s usually a trait of older vampires—something that comes with centuries of life, regardless of generation. It’s believed to be blood-sense, though no one’s researched it much.”
“But I’m not a vampire,” Leo pointed out, resuming their climb.
“No,” Lander agreed, a smile playing at his lips, “but Adam is. And claims share gifts, particularly strong ones. It seems you’re not just gaining his immortality—but some of his other abilities as well.”
The implications settled over Leo like a weighted blanket. “What else might I gain?”
“That,” Lander said as they reached the second-floor landing, “is an excellent question. I’m afraid I don’t know.”
They approached Adam’s office, where the sound of his voice carried through the partially open door. He was deep in conversation about financial reports and inflation adjustments, but the moment Leo stepped inside, Adam’s eyes lifted to find him.
Something electric passed between them—immediate and undeniable. Not just recognition, but a pull that thrummed under Leo’s skin, hot and unsettling. It was as if Adam had reached out and closed a hand around something inside him.
Leo’s heart beat a little faster. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of losing himself to that connection, or of how badly he already wanted to.
As he sank into the cushions, he tried to tell himself this was only about the bond. That the way Adam’s gaze made him feel—seen, claimed, known—wasn’t changing him into something he no longer recognized.
He wasn’t sure he believed it.
Chapter Seventeen
