A Vampire for Christmas(13)
For the millionth time, he wondered if he’d made a mistake when he wiped her memories last Christmas. Would she have accepted him as a vampire after witnessing what she had? Sebastian could be a sadistic bastard sometimes, and although Trace hadn’t been present when Charlotte had walked in on him feeding from a human host, it had to have been graphic. The shock on her face had said it all.
He sat down heavily on the bed again.
Had Trace’s father been alive last Christmas, he’d have been furious at what happened, but he’d died a few months earlier. In his gruff tone, he’d have told Sebastian to be more discreet in his feeding habits, and to Trace he’d have said to quit screwing around with that human woman and act like a Councilperson. He would’ve chastised both of them into doing the right thing for the Westfalen family. Although technically Sebastian was from the Taft side of the family tree.
Staring at the blank phone screen now, he knew that he didn’t have a choice. Not then and certainly not now. It was his duty to take over his father’s position on the Council, and at some point, mate with a vampire female. He’d been preparing for this all his life. If he were lucky, the union would produce a child. Given that vampire fertility rates weren’t nearly what humans’ were, many of the old families had not been able to produce heirs over the years and their lines had died off. His father was adamant that this not happen to their branch of the family.
A sour taste formed in his mouth. After being with Charlotte last night, he couldn’t imagine having sex with another female for the purposes of starting a family. Somehow, it didn’t seem…right.
Just as he was getting up, the door banged open. Jackson Foss sauntered into the room wearing black sweats, flip-flops and a graphic T-shirt with the name of some gym plastered across his chest. The Guardian had changed the streaks in his hair to crimson since the last time Trace had seen him.
You look confused.” Jackson gestured at Trace’s phone with the sandwich he held. “Trying to decide if you’re going to click some naked pictures on the internet or what?”
Don’t you knock?”
Jackson ignored the question, took a bite and continued talking. “Oh, wait. I forgot. You’re on the Council now. Gotta behave yourself.”
It’s not official yet,” Trace said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “The elders are voting on it next month, right after the first of the year.”
Yeah, but that’s just a formality.”
I don’t know about that,” Trace admitted. He wouldn’t have said this to just anyone, but he counted Jackson as a friend. “I’m starting to think something more is going on behind the scenes, like someone doesn’t want me to take over. Maybe the incident that happened with my great-uncle is to blame. Our name isn’t exactly untarnished.”
George Westfalen had been found to be keeping a blood slave on his property to feed his Sweet habit, an act forbidden by Council law. Although the old man had been manipulated by an unscrupulous business manager who got him addicted to the rare human blood in order to gain control over his vast finances, the fallout had reflected poorly on the whole family.
Any word on how the guy’s doing?” Trace asked. “The…ah…blood slave. You keeping tabs on him?”
Most of the field offices kept a list of known sweet-bloods in the area—people who usually came to their attention as the result of an attack. When time permitted, they did drive-by status checks of these humans most vulnerable to unscrupulous vampires. In accordance with Council law, their memories had to be wiped, but the Agency felt it was their duty to watch over them as best they could.
The sweetblood guy? Finn? He’s cool. Doing work for the field office as a helicopter pilot. And he’s got something pretty serious going on with one of our medics, Brenna Stewart. Don’t know if she was here when you were, but she’s working at one of the clinics now.”
How interesting. Most of the field offices did have a few humans working within their midst who knew about the existence of the vampire race, but a sweetblood? He recalled that Dom’s wife had been a sweetblood before becoming a changeling. Maybe that had something to do with it. “Her name does sound familiar.”
Jackson stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. “Since you’re on your best behavior, I take it, no hanging at the Pink Salon for you? A couple of us are heading there later.”
The downtown club had always been one of Jackson’s favorite places to pick up women. Actually, he did more than just pick them up there. An entire relationship consummation occurred. “They name one of the private rooms in the back after you yet?”