She gave me a little wave as though she’d heard me and came to stand behind Constantine, her fingers lightly teasing his shoulders. “Will you be needing anything else?” she asked him.
“No, darling. You’ve been perfect, thank you.” He leaned over to kiss her wrist, dismissing her as he did most women.
Zephyrus’s jaw clenched, his palm having gone to Aflora’s thigh.
Because yeah, Dakota being here meant Constantine knew everything. No wonder she’d been so obsessed with my intentions for the Blood Gala. She was hoping to provoke an incident that the Elite Bloods could squander in some grand display. But all I’d intended to do was show Aflora the truth.
That plan hadn’t exactly backfired. She was about to learn some hard truths very quickly. However, this wasn’t how I’d intended to show her.
“Where’s Kols?” Zephyrus asked calmly.
Constantine shrugged. “Otherwise detained.”
Because he knew about Kolstov’s ties to Aflora. Brilliant. Honestly, I almost wanted to applaud Dakota for her trickery. “So what was the plan?” I asked, reaching for my wine to swirl it in my glass. “Was Dakota supposed to seduce me like she did with Kolstov and Zephyrus?” Because yeah, I knew all about that incident. “Was she supposed to gain access to the source through me? Then report back to you?”
“Something like that,” Constantine admitted. “But your lack of interest made that difficult.”
“Yeah, power-hungry cunts aren’t really my thing,” I drawled, glancing at Zephyrus. “No offense.”
He didn’t reply or acknowledge the statement, his attention on the new wave of Warrior Bloods who had approached the table. We were up to twenty now. A reasonable number. But Constantine severely underestimated my skill if he thought that would intimidate me.
“So what now, Nacht?” I asked, setting my glass down again without drinking it. Given they knew I was coming, it was probably spiked with something. Even if it wasn’t, I would never accept their alcoholic handouts. “Are you hoping for a show? Some grand finale to appease your admirers?”
“Oh, we’re all in for quite a show,” he said, sounding amused. “And I’ll be providing you and your pretty little abomination with front-row seats.”
“While I appreciate the intriguing offer, I think we’re going to have to pass.” I fussed with my tie, then smiled at the ancient asshole beside me. “So unless you want a rather violent prequel to your main event, I suggest you let us leave.”
“And I insist you stay,” he replied.
A laugh clawed at my throat, his arrogance astounding. As if I—
Aflora released a whimper beside me, her arms beginning to shake. “Kai…” My name left her lips on a tremble of sound. “I… I don’t…” She clutched her chest, her body convulsing violently beneath some sort of invisible shock, her eyes rolling back into her head.
Zephyrus reached for her, only a similar quiver worked its way through his limbs, and he grabbed his chest a moment later, his lips parting in shock as he looked at Constantine. “No.”
“It had to be done,” Constantine replied, rolling his neck. “He’s tainted the Nacht name. So I’ll do what I do best and restore it.” He flexed his fingers as power whirled through the room, the source screaming in agony inside my head.
I dove in to figure out what the fuck was happening, only to be hit with a bolt of energy that knocked me out of my chair.
“Let the show begin,” Constantine announced.
Several Minutes Earlier
IF EMELYN JYN could breathe fire, I imagined she would be doing that right about now. She’d refused to acknowledge me since arriving, her anger palpable and, frankly, exhausting.
I had no patience for it.
If she unleashed WarFire on me again, I’d return the gift in the form of an inferno. I didn’t want to be here anymore than she did. And I’d tried all week to convince my father to allow us to go separately. Alas, he’d refused.
I searched for him, wondering if what I felt earlier had been a fluke. But he was nowhere to be found.
Another oddity.
My father was never late. And neither was my mother.
“Have you seen Mum today, Tray?” I asked softly, taking in the modernly decorated space. Our mother had chosen all the fixtures for this meeting room—one that our family rarely used. It was meant for Council business that couldn’t take place at the main compound. And once a year, we all gathered here prior to the Blood Gala while we waited for our cue to enter the grand ballroom.
Untouched flutes of blood-infused champagne sat along a serving bench at the back wall. A few were also placed on the oak table, but all sixteen chairs were vacant, everyone choosing to stand instead.