But that’s where it stops being easy.
I stare at the drawing, searching it for anything I’ve missed. It’s as detailed as I can remember, with a few edits from Grace. “The biggest issue is my father’s power.”
“Yeah. About that.” Wolf’s pale blue gaze goes contemplative. “He has to speak to use it, right?”
“Yes. He can glamour and the like without speaking, I think. But to use his commands, he has to speak them.” I turn to him. “But how do you keep him from speaking?”
Rylan drums his fingers on the table. “Injury would be the easiest way. It won’t stick long, not with how old and powerful he is, but even he would take a few seconds to heal a crushed larynx. Maybe up to a minute if someone tears out his throat.”
I know my father is powerful, of course. I was raised under his thumb, and I’ve seen what he does to those less powerful than him. In that compound,everyoneis less powerful than he is. Still, it feels particularly worrisome to havethesevampires admit he’s a formidable foe. It’s not new information, but it still sends a shiver down my spine. “We still have to get close to him to do either of those things.”
“Maybe.” Malachi sits back, his chair groaning beneath him. “When’s the last time you did a ranged attack, Wolf?”
Wolf shrugs, but it’s nowhere near the careless body language he normally has. Tension bleeds from him through the bond, winding tighter and tighter. “I haven’t had reason to. I’m out of practice.”
Malachi hesitates, glances at me, and then sighs. “We should call in your sister.” He holds up a hand when Wolf tenses. “I know it’s not an ideal situation, but you can’t diagnose issues with your blood the way she can. And she’s a better ranged attacker than you are by a long shot.”
“My sisterpoisonsblood.” Something almost fearful edges into Wolf’s voice. “You’re out of your damn mind, Mal. She’s as likely to kill Mina as she is to help with anything. There’s a reason I haven’t seen her in fifty years.” He glances at me. “You think I’m a loose cannon? My sister is worse.”
He said something to the same effect last night. I’d felt something akin to pity then, but now I don’t know what to think. I look between them, taking in their very serious expressions. “It seems like a long shot with greater risk than rewards.”
“Mal’s right,” Rylan says reluctantly. “Lizzie could shoot Cornelius from a mile away and he’d never see the attack coming. It would give us the opportunity to take him out while he can’t speak. He’s still going to be able to fight, but at least he won’t be able to compel.”
Wolf’s distress flares so brightly, I reach over and cover his hand with mine. He’s shaking, just a little, fine tremors that send a surge of fierce protectiveness through me. I look at the other two men. “We’re not doing it if Wolf isn’t okay with it. It’s easy for you to say things will work out and this won’t backfire, but it’s his family.” His family that makes this mad vampire look well-adjusted. I don’t know what to think of that. All I know is that I don’t want any of my men harmed.
What are the chances of all of us making it out alive?
I don’t have an answer for that question.
No one at the table does.
45
In the end, the truth is we have no options. Unless we nullify my father’s ability to compel, any plan we make is dead in the water. Even dropping a bomb on the compound—if any of us were willing to do it—wouldn’t guarantee my father’s death. He’s too old, too savvy. He’d find a way to survive even that, and then we’d have mass casualties on our head.
My life was a living hell in that compound, and my father wasn’t the only one responsible for that. But not everyone was a monster. Not everyone chose cruelty when they could offer kindness instead. I won’t say those who showed me kindness as a child were the majority, but they existed. Even if they hadn’t, I’m not willing to sanction the murder of every adult and child in the compound. It’s too high a cost.
So Wolf phones his sister, Lizzie.
He makes the call in the other room, but even I can hear his side of the conversation, so no doubt Rylan and Malachi can hear both sides. Sure enough, they exchange a long glance. Malachi sighs. “Lizzie is going to be a problem, but we won’t let her hurt you.”
“Maybe you can fuck her, too, and then the seraph bond will take care of that.”
I stare at Rylan. Of all the things to suggest… “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Mostly.” He grimaces. “Itwouldsimplify matters, but we’d have to make sure Lizzie didn’t kill you during the bonding process, and that’s more difficult than you can imagine. She’s too unpredictable.”
There it is again.
The evidence that they have such a deep history that extends many of my lifetimes in the past. Malachi was in that house for a hundred years, but before that he was friends and lovers with Rylan and Wolf and others. Maybe even Lizzie. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Not jealous, exactly. Just…strange.
“If you want to know, you can ask.”
I jump, startled out of my thoughts by Malachi’s low voice. There’s no mistaking what question he’s talking about. I force myself to meet his gaze. “Were you lovers? Either of you?”
“Not me.” Rylan doesn’t exactly shudder, but it’s there in his voice. “I prefer my throat intact.”
“I was, briefly.” Malachi holds my gaze. “Does that bother you?”