Page 82 of Blood

Balor squints at me, a crease materializing between his brows. “Why do you look like you’re up to no good?”

Fuck.

Play it cool, Violet.

Play it cool.

“Whatever do you mean, you strapping, fine sir?” I ask in an over-the-top British accent that’s probably just a tad offensive.

Balor’s eyes narrow even farther, but Athena cuts off whatever he’s about to say with a negligent wave of her hand. “There’s a lot I want to say, Violet, and most of them have to do with your leadership capabilities.” She hefts up her chin imperiously, her gray eyes appearing almost metallic in the artificial lighting. “You’re supposed to be the queen—our queen—yet you can’t take control of a simple meeting. Do not let any of us walk all over you, child.” Abruptly, her face creases, confusion eclipsing the domineering look from only seconds before. “Why did I say that out loud?”

A cold, satisfied smile erupts on Frankie’s face. “Because I placed a truth potion in all of your glasses.”

“You did what?” Ra’s face twists with rage as he jumps to his feet.

My guys explode into movement almost instantly. Hux ventures a few steps closer to where I still sit, attempting to appear unruffled, despite the way my heart slams in my chest and goose bumps pop up all over my skin. Cal and Barret both circle the perimeter of the room, their eyes tracking the Fomorians with all the ruthlessness of predators preparing to pounce on their unsuspecting prey. Vin palms the hilt of one of his daggers, dark mist encircles Alex’s wrists like iron bands, and Frankie straightens almost imperceptibly, his eyes thin slits.

“Settle, Ra.” Athena waves a hand at the other Fomorian, though she never takes her eyes off me. Confusion and disbelief, warring with something that looks oddly like respect, cloud her vision. “Explain.”

“We need to know your intentions,” Frankie answers for me, his voice sharp and succinct. He uses his middle finger to push his glasses farther up his nose. “We need to know if we can trust you.”

“And you didn’t believe me before?” Amusement colors Athena’s face.

“Excuse me for not being confident that you’re not a traitorous, murderous bitch,” Vin drawls sardonically.

Balor whips his head in the vampire hunter’s direction, his teeth bared and his eyes glimmering with an incandescent rage. “Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that—”

“You’re smart,” Athena interrupts, her eyes still locked on mine. “I’ll admit that, if I were in your shoes, I would do the same thing. How does that saying go? Keep your friends close but your enemies closer?”

“Is that what you are?” My heart flips over in my chest as nerves assail me. A part of me fears the answer to my question just as desperately as I know I need it. “An enemy?”

Athena tsks her tongue. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Violet. But if you want the truth from me...no, I don’t have any intentions of betraying you. I meant what I said before. I believe you’re what the world needs if we’re ever going to move forward. You may not be a ruler yet, but you will be. As long as you allow my people to do their sacred duty, then we won’t have a problem. We’re called the Wild Hunt for a reason. We don’t bow to anyone. Is that something you can accept?”

The knot in my heart loosens at her words. A part of me is still cautious—understandably so—but hearing that she has no intentions of betraying me washes away some of the tension locking up my shoulders.

“There has to be more to the story,” Frankie continues in that cool, detached tone he uses with everyone but me.

“I’ll admit that my son has a part to play in all of this,” Athena confesses, shifting her gaze toward the man sitting beside her.

Balor’s mouth drops open in shock. “What?” he barks.

“You care about these monsters, even if you don’t want to admit it,” Athena coos, licking her thumb and reaching forward to wipe at Balor’s cheek.

Balor pushes her away with a scowl. “I want to kill them all.”

“You’ve come to consider Jack and Hux brothers,” Athena continues. She seems utterly oblivious to the way Balor’s face flushes crimson. Or maybe she just doesn’t care. “And I know you have a soft spot for the little demoness.”

“I dream about stabbing her,” Balor deadpans.

“So, to answer your question, Violet Dracula, my reasons for helping you are not purely selfless. I want freedom for my people, and I believe you’re the only one who can grant me that. I also wish to make my son happy—”

“I’ll only be happy if she’s buried alive without any of her organs,” Balor interjects.

“But I’m going to tell you right now...” Her mercury silver eyes, so bright they almost blind me, harden. They sear my very soul, burning with the flames of Hell itself. “If you ever spell me or mine again, I will cut you up and end your life. Do I make myself clear?”

Her threat doesn’t scare me, mainly because I know it’s not necessary. I got what I needed out of her, so the only way I’ll ever use magic on her or the Fomorians is if they choose to rebel. As of now, we’re at a stalemate, both sides frozen on their halves of the chessboard.

That’s what being a leader means, after all—understanding the game and manipulating it to fit your needs. It’s nothing but a lightning-swift business decision. Buy or sell? Invest or pass? Open or close? It’s my duty to survey all my options and articulate an informed decision based on the knowledge I have.

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