“Got it, darling.”
“Perfect, we’re back to the sickly sweet pet names I hated.”
She pressed her lips to mine before releasing me all at once. The smile was still there, so I knew she didn’t actually hate the pet names, though she had been furious at them when I’d first met her.
“You call me killer, which is accurate while also being condescending, so I have free reign to call you love and darling,” I said.
“Whatever, killer. Let’s get this over with. I want to wash my hands of Kylan.” She glanced down at her fingers, black smeared in the lines of her skin. “Literally.”
I didn’t feel ready to face my brother, but I wasn’t sure I ever would. With a sigh, I grabbed the jar I’d stolen from the sellsword tavern and picked up a jarful of my cousin. There were some bony and fleshy bits left with the ash, and it still smelled like him. It would be proof enough I’d killed him.
“Where am I portalling us to?” Freya asked.
“He has a mansion on the East Coast on Earth,” I said.
Forming a picture of it in my head, I did my best to push it at her through our mental link. She continued drawing her runes after a second of contemplation, so I assumed it had worked. A brief glance down at the mark on my forearm confirmed it hadn’t faded at all, the twin scars marking me as hers. The bond didn’t feel like it was fading either, but it had only been a few days. There was plenty of time for it to vanish, but I was no longer worried about her not wanting to mark me again.
When the portal swirled in front of me, Freya gestured me through. A couple of the sellswords watched in curiosity, though most had been freed to hurry along to their next job. I stepped through the portal, doing my best to ignore the wave of nausea. Zemterran creatures weren’t meant to portal. It was always a tad unpleasant.
I landed in the living room filled with plush couches, realizing belatedly I was wearing bloody clothes and muddy shoes, everything covered with hints of ash.
This was also a horrible time to learn my brother was in the middle of hosting a party.
A family party.
All eyes turned to me, widening when Freya passed through the portal to land beside me.
“I’m here to see Wynn.”
It was a struggle to keep my voice level in the face of thirty people who’d ignored and neglected me for the formative years of my life. I spotted my parents in a far corner, shocked beyond belief, but didn’t settle on them for long.
“What makes you think you’re welcome in a house owned by the Jitara family?”
The man who’d spoken stood from the couch. It was Kylan’s father. I forced a smirk onto my face, holding up the jar and not letting my hands shake. Freya reached for me through the bond, sensing my distress at having to face all these people I hadn’t been ready to face.
“I’m the leader of the vampire mafia now,” I declared.
Kylan’s father’s face went white, then red. “Liar.”
I twisted open the lid and reached in, pulling out a white piece of bone. Tossing it toward the man, he caught it and inhaled the scent. His jaw dropped.
“You’re not strong enough to kill my son. Who did you hire to do this?” he spat.
Freya laughed, drawing all eyes to her. Before, she’d been a minor curiosity. An employed witch and an Omega. As she wound her arm through mine, people gasped.
“My mate and I killed him together,” I said, accepting the show of strength she was offering.
“That’s an Omega. She can’t be your mate and she can’t have killed anyone.”
“Would you like me to prove it?” Freya asked innocently.
Her fingers flicked out and Kylan’s father froze in place. He’d never been as strong as his son, and apparently he was perfectly susceptible to Freya’s magic. She looked up at me.
“Can I kill him?”she asked through our bond.
I gave her the tiniest nod. From her belt she grabbed a sword and threw it, piercing the man directly through the heart. Releasing her magic, he fell with a thump. None of my other family members seemed to know what to do about this.
“Nolan?” Wynn’s voice came from behind me, the sound only vaguely familiar after so many years.
